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The woman prattled on about her theory on perfume, while Carson nodded, hanging onto every word. Meanwhile, the synapses in my brain were firing at warp speed. All I could think about was how this is what it would be like, to be Carson’s girl, for real.
It was strange how I could picture it so clearly. How easy and natural the image of us together felt in my head. We’d go out and laugh and joke. He’d make me forget all my problems like today—my parents, my college applications, the dance, all the things that sucked about going back home. And when his arms would wrap around me, I’d go weak. Everything else in my life would be a blur because the warmth of his arms, the cut of his smile were all that mattered.
“. . . so, you see, the best perfumes are meant to compliment the person. Why don’t you describe your girlfriend?” the saleswoman said, snapping me out of my thoughts. “Her personality, everything about her,” she added.
My insides clenched. “Oh, that won’t be necessary.”
“Nonsense,” the saleswoman said. “No one can accurately describe the way others see them. Who better to judge than your boyfriend?”
Oh, yes, who better?I could think of a few.
I trained my eyes on the floor, allowing my mortification to sink into my bones. With any luck, I could just disappear—poof!—into thin air.
Carson nudged me in the arm. “Yeah, Mia. Who better than your sexy and devastatingly handsome boyfriend?”
I chuckled, his joke allowing me to glance back at him and roll my eyes, play it off like my heart wasn’t threatening to beat out of my chest.
“How to describe Mia Randalls . . .” Carson’s voice trailed off, and I squeezed my eyes shut, fighting the urge to twist around in his arms and cover his mouth with my hands. I wanted to stop him. Because suddenly this didn’t seem like a joke anymore. It was personal, and I wasn’t sure I could bear to hear what he had to say—to see myself through his eyes.
“She’s smart, but it’s not just that she’s smart. She works harder than anyone I know, yet she’s too hard on herself. Everyone likes Mia. From the geeks to the jocks to the stoners, every single group of kids in our class has nothing but the good things to say about her. She’s not petty like other people. She doesn’t gossip, but instead, she gives people the benefit of the doubt and ignores the haters. I’ve seen her put others first, one too many times because she hates confrontation, even though she tries to act like she’s a badass.”
Carson’s voice grew soft as he turned me around in his arms to face him. “But she puts too much pressure on herself to be perfect. And I hate that. It eats away at me when I see it. I’m not sure anyone else really notices, but I do.”
My heart pounded like a drum in my chest until I thought it might burst. All I could do was stare up at him, my lashes fluttering as I blinked away my shock. Because he knew me better than anyone. Maybe even Ethan and Ella.
He reached up to my hair and raked a hand through my thick main, and for a moment, I wondered if he remembered we weren’t alone, that there was someone—a stranger—standing only feet away from us, but he just continued, dragging his fingers through the length of my locks as he said, “Her hair . . . it reminds me of the sunset—both orange, and fiery pink, and pale yellow at the same time. She’s a good friend—loyal to the core and trustworthy, the kind who will be on your side through anything. And her laugh . . . She has this laugh. The one where she doesn’t think someone’s funny, but she’s pretending anyway. That laugh doesn’t reach her eyes. But her real laugh, now that’s something to see because her whole face gets into it. It’s uncontrollable. It sounds like wind chimes, and she crinkles her nose and eyes.”
Reaching up, he touched the bridge of my nose, making me gasp. “And every time I hear it, I think, I want to be the one to make her laugh like that because it’s impossible to hear and not smile. It pulls you in, that laugh.”
Breathing became a struggle as he grew silent, staring down at me, his mouth a tight line as his eyes searched mine. I wanted to say something—anything—but the words were stuck in my throat. The things he said about me, they didn’t sound like observations of a boy who loathed me. Quite the contrary.
“Well,” the saleswoman breathed, “then we need something extraordinary. Hold on a moment.” She breezed past me, toward shelves at the back. But I barely noticed. I hardly registered anything except the boy in front of me.
And every time I hear it, I think, I want to be the one to make her laugh . . .His words were a sucker punch. They formed a lump in my throat and left me disoriented. I wasn’t entirely sure what just happened, but I could feel the floor shift underneath us. Something had changed.
“For someone who’s supposed to be my enemy, it sure sounds like you’ve been paying attention,” I murmured.
“I have.” Carson raked a hand through the side of my hair and leaned in to whisper. “Closeattention.”
My palms dampened and my heart skittered in my chest, but before I could say anything, the sales woman was back, holding out a small crystal-shaped bottle with an amber liquid inside. I watched dumbly as she took my arm and spritzed some on the insides of my wrist, and over my clavicle as Carson’s gaze tracked her movements like a lion watching his prey.
“Try this,” she murmured, then stepped back, giving Carson room.
Chapter 21
CARSON
Ilickedmylipsand stepped even closer to the girl currently sending my heart into a tailspin. Bending down, my face only inches from her neck, I was close enough to feel the heat of her skin on mine. My lower lip grazed the spot where her pulse pounded furiously underneath her jaw. And as I breathed her in, humming in response, it took everything inside me not to rake my teeth over her neck, to press my lips against the spot where her blood thundered in her veins.
Sadly, I pulled away. Partly because Perfume Lady was watching, but mostly because the last thing I wanted was to finally have Mia in my sights only to scare her away.
My eyes met hers, my breathing so heavy I should probably be embarrassed. But I wasn’t. And if her large, dark pupils were any indication, she felt every bit of the heat from our exchange as I did. “Yep. That’s definitely the one.”
“Well, okay, then.” Perfume Lady clapped her hands. “How about I bag that up?”
After we finished our purchases and headed to the car, I asked Mia if she wanted to stop at Luigi’s for pizza. When she said yes without much convincing, I took that as a win.
Silence filled my Jeep as we drove. Every so often, I caught Mia stealing glances at me, but every time I turned and my gaze met hers, she swiftly glanced away again, her cheeks burning a vibrant pink.
