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“No,” I challenged, narrowing the gap between us. This was the guy who sent me recordings of him singing so I could go to sleep when I was crampy and hurting and stuck here with bad meatloaf. This was the same guy who gave me my first real kiss. This wasIan. “I don’t know what you mean. What’s too fast?”
“You wanted to date,” he said slowly.
“I’m aware of what I wanted. I was there.”
A faint smile quirked his lips. “Fair. We all want to date you.”
Well, that was some improvement. “Except now you don’t.”
“No, I do,” he insisted. “Maybe more than is fair to you. There’s a reason I want to take you to Homecoming. To make it a great night for you. It’s why I wanted to ask you. To give you that memory, but also to treat youright.”
All right, now I was confused. “You want to date me, but you don’t want to date me. I’m confused, which is it?”
Confused.
Irritated.
Irked.
Annoyed.
Vexed.
Pissed off was right around the corner.
“You deserve to be treated better…to be precious. To be given the opportunity to get to know us as more than just the guys who want to get in your pants.”
“I didn’t meet you five minutes ago. I didn’t go out with Archie on day one and have sex with him. Holy shit, Ian—where is all of this coming from?” Because this didn’t make sense. “You got mad at Archie because we had sex.”
“I know. You asked me why I hit him, and I told you he understood why.”
“But you still haven’t told me. Is it because of this game you used to play? Are you still playing this game?”
“No.”
“And I was never part of the game?”
“No. Never.”
“You don’t want to date me, because you want to treat me better than the game and what Archie, Jake, and Coop are doing…”
“You’ve had sex with Coop?” He jerked a little.
“Not that it’s any of your business at the moment, but no—we made out. He kisses me…a lot.” Some of the tension bled out of my shoulders. “He’s…he’s Coop. Just like you’re Ian. No one kisses me like him. No one kisses me like any of you.” I really didn’t know how to make this clearer to him. “Did I ever picture myself dating all of you? No. I could barely imagine dating one of you. I never realized you guys had a thing for me. I wasn’t making that up.”
Some of the tautness in his expression eased, and he lifted a hand to cup my cheek. “I know you didn’t,” he promised. “I do know. The day you told us you wanted to date, that you were seeing Mathieu, and that you wanted those experiences—Frankie, that was a great day. Then you kissed me in the pool…and everything was so clear. You always got me. You got me on a level even the guys don’t always get me. You never forget my music.”
“I wouldn’t. That’s a part of you, and maybe I get you, but sometimes you confuse the hell out of me.” Like right now.
“Then I look at everything that’s happened since then…not just the guys, but the thing with Rachel and the flowers, the shit the girls are pulling, the secret notes, the fact that someone vandalized your car—and I won’t bring up your mom, but…”
“Yeah. You know a lot of that isn’t your fault.”
“Except I don’t think you’ve done anything to anyone to make them hate you like that. Even Sharon doesn’t hate you for anything other than I like you a hell of a lot more than I ever liked her.” He stroked his thumb over my cheekbone. The same one my mother had bruised. It had faded a lot, but it was still tender, or maybe the memory of it ached.
Leaning into the touch, I stepped forward. I still had my bikini fisted in my hand. “Ian…” I licked my lips. “What you guys did over the summer…how it affects the others, the girls you dated. I can’t control that. I can’t control their feelings. I can’t control anyone’s feelings except my own. Are things a little crazy right now? Yes. They are. But there aregoodthings, too.Reallygood things.”
Studying him, I looked for some sign. He said he wanted to date me but not. He liked me more than the other girls. Hot. Cold. Yes. No.
