Page 83 of Better Than the Movies
Was it warm in that house?
My eyes watched as a man on the television was murdered by a serial killer who jammed the man’s head into the propeller of a boat motor, but my mind was on Wes. Wes and the fact that if he and I were reclined a little more, like, resting back on our elbows, all he’d have to do was lean his body a little in my direction, so he was hovering over me, and we’d be perfectly aligned for him to kiss me.
He’d look down at my lips with those dark eyes and he would visibly swallow with that prominent Adam’s apple that for some reason always distracted me, and then—
“Buxbaum.”
“Huh?” I turned my head to the right and looked at him, a tiny bit gaspy and feeling like I’d been woken from a dream. What the hell was I doing?
My face was hot as he leaned a little closer, to where his shoulder nudged mine. He gave me a squinty-eyed smirk and whispered, “I’m a little uncomfortable with the level of attention you just gave to that slashing. I don’t think you blinked.”
I blinked then, my cheeks getting even hotter—if that was possible—as he whispered to me in the dark. My mouth curled up into a smile that I had no control over, and I whispered back, “Quit watching me, creeper.”
And then the moment just stopped.
Paused.
Held.
His smirk disappeared and his face turned intense. His jaw flexed and I could hardly breathe as I looked back at him, my heart pounding as I let myself be obvious and look at his mouth for the quickest of seconds.
His mouth that was just so incredibly close to mine.
When I brought my eyes back to his, I knew without a doubt that if we were anywhere else—alone—he would kiss me. He swallowed, and my eyes tracked down to his throat before slowly climbing back up by way of his strong chin, nose, and dark-as-night brown eyes.
He raised one eyebrow, an unspoken question, and I realized at that moment that I wanted it. I wanted Wes. Michael had been my endgame, but I couldn’t bring myself to care about that anymore.
I wouldn’t run through a train station for Michael. But I would do it for Wes.
Holy shit.
I raised my right shoulder in a shrug that nudged his shoulder, a touch of my cotton against his fleece.
“Scoot over.” Noah plopped down beside me and said, “I’m going deaf sitting between those screamers.”
Nooo!
I sat up and moved a hair closer toward Wes, careful not to look at him as I shifted over. The moment had been broken, and part of me was disappointed that we’d been interrupted, while the other part was embarrassed and utterly clueless about whether what Ithought had just happened had actually happened at all.
I stared blankly at the TV for what seemed like an eternity before I heard Wes whisper, “I’m going to get a drink. You want one?”
I took a deep breath—please don’t be mocking—and turned to face him. But instead of the smart-ass expression that was Wes’s default, he gave me a devastatingly hopeful smile as he waited for my response.
I swallowed and felt trembly as I smiled back at him. “That’d be great. Thanks.”
“Diet Coke, right?”
I nodded and had to concentrate on not sweating after he got up and left the room.
What in the actual the hell?
When I came back from the restroom, Wes still hadn’t returned to his spot on the floor. I glanced around the dark living room before noticing that he was out on the deck. At first, I couldn’t tell who he was talking to, but then I saw it was Alex.
Talk about a glass of cold water to the face.
He was out there with the pretty girl that he knew liked him, while I was feeling near-vomitous over the confusing things I was thinking about my next-door neighbor. Talk about a yawning chasm.
I gnawed on my lip and squinted, trying to see them better. He’d said he wasn’t interested in her, and I believed he’d meant it, but that didn’t mean it couldn’t change, right? And what if I’d been misreading every little thing between Wes and me to begin with?My little fairy godfather might only be interested in finding loveforme, not with me, right?
