Page 17 of Operation Prom Date

Page List

Font Size:

“What about…kissing?”

Every ounce of my restraint went to keeping myself from looking at her lips, and I quickly shut down all thoughts of sparkly lip gloss and driving my hand through her hair to satisfy my curiosity about how it’d feel between my fingers. “I don’t think that’ll be necessary. Maybe on the cheek? Like when I whisper it’s time to go? And you’ll act like you’re…”Into it.That was what I meant, but I worried it’d come out wrong and only make her more nervous—not to mention rev me up more—so I softened it. “Like you think that sounds like a great idea.”

She nodded again and again, like she did when her nervousness reached the next level.

I took her hand and slipped my fingers between hers. “We don’t have to do this.”

She looked at me, blinking the green eyes that looked even bigger and brighter thanks to the makeup she’d put on. “No, I want to.”

Could’ve fooled me.“Okay. I’m going to open the truck door and pull you out with me.”

I wrapped my fingers around the plastic handle.

“Wait,” she said before I tugged.

I turned back to her. “You’re doing this for your crazy mission thing, and as you like to remind me, you’re on a tight deadline. It’ll work. But first we have to go inside that party and pull off step one.”

“I think this is step two.” Her eyes met mine. “And call it by its name.”

“Why?”

“Because it’ll make me feel better.” She sunk her teeth into her bottom lip. “Please?” How could I possibly say no to her sweet features and that pleading look that said she really needed this.

I sighed, drawing it out, because I might be the sucker in this situation, but it didn’t mean I’d completely own it. “Operation Prom Date is officially go for launch. Once this mission is complete, we’ll report to home base for further instructions.”

A smile spread across her face and she tightened her grip on my hand. “Okay. Now I’m ready.”

Chapter Eleven

Kate

By now, Cooper most likely considered me certifiable, but he went along with it. I’m not sure why it was more reassuring to hear “Operation Prom Date” coming from his lips. Probably because he had a nice voice, deep and a bit husky. Plus, “crazy mission thing”mademe feel crazy, which hampered the confidence I would need to play the role offriend who imbibed in ambiguous levels of benefits with one of her guy friends.

In fact, in the past week, Cooper had somehow become my closest friend. Maybe that was sad, but sad seemed like the wrong word to use when it came to spending time with Cooper.A good jump-start to trying to make friends once I hit college, maybe?

As if he knew I needed it, Cooper gave my hand an extra squeeze as we walked into the party.

But then he dropped it.

Holding hands was too possessive, apparently. Still, I missed the lifeline immediately, my nerves replacing the calm I’d possessed for a whole minute or so.

“Hey, Coop,” someone said, and Cooper reached out and fist bumped him.

The noise of the party overwhelmed me, so many conversations going on at once. Music blared through the room, too, the bass line vibrating the frames on the wall and working its way under my skin, until my heart beat in time with it.

Within minutes, it was clear that Cooper knew everyone.

And that everyone didn’t know me. I received a lot of blank looks with a few occasional finger points as they worked to remember my name or why I looked familiar.

“This is Kate,” Cooper said, draping his arm over my shoulders.

“Oh yeah,” Kevin Miller said. “We had Spanish class together last semester, right?”

Wrong.But saying so seemed rude—not to mention on the uptight side of the scale—so I gave a noncommittal shrug.

Gradually we made our way through the party, room by room. There were lots of familiar faces, but honestly, I didn’t remember how I knew them or all of their names, so I told myself it was fine they didn’t know who I was.

“I’m guessing this is my replacement?” a guy from our left asked, his brown eyes on me. He had tawny skin, dark hair that looked like it might be curly if he’d let it grow out, and an open and warm grin. I noticed the splinted wrist and put two and two together—because math was my thing.