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“Sure you did.” She pushes the button for our floor, tugging the hem of her shirt. My shirt.
Jess wrapped in my clothes gives me a full-body buzz. “Hauntedwas little out of my Robert-Ludlum-Vince-Flynn-Trevor-Gray wheelhouse.”
She tenses.
Does she think I’m criticizing her? I’m not. “I liked it.” I lean against the railing. “Want to know my favorite part? When Dante wrote that song to ask Sara to homecoming and the football team sang backup in the cafeteria.”
She meets my eyes in the mirrored doors. “You did read it.”
“Every word. It was a great story. Even though Dante needs a small kick in the man card.”
“Dante’s sweet.” There’s a challenge in her eyes I don’t think she even knows she’s giving.
Three short steps have my chest pressed to her back. Already breaking her no-touching rule, I round my fingers over her shoulders. “I can do sweet.” A shiver ripples over her and spills through me, begging me to break the no-kissing rule too. “Jess?” I tip my head to breathe in her ear.
“Hmm?” She drops my gaze in the mirror.
“Are you into a guy like Dante who asks before he kisses the girl?” My cheek hovers so close to hers I can feel the heat flushing her face. “Or a guy who leans in slow and assumes he has permission if the girl leans in too?”
“I...” That shiver rolls into the rest of her body.
I skim my hands down the soft skin of her bare arms. My lips graze her cheekbone. The corner of her eye. And slide back down.
Lips parting, she tips her head and—
The elevator doors slide open.
“WhenRunfinaled in the awards—” Donna stops mid-conversation and steps in with two conference-badged ladies, acknowledging Jess with a pasted-on smile, like there’s some unwritten elevator protocol that says she has to pretend to be polite.
The polite protocol doesn’t extend to her eyes. They trash talk Jess. Ten kinds of middle-age mean girl, Donna slides her gaze over my girl’s crimson blush, wild hair, and oversize T-shirt. “Does Vi know where you spent the night?” Her gaze slashes toward me. “Didn’t your mother teach you people will treat you the way you act? Great image you’re putting out there, Jess.”
Watching Jess clutch her sweatshirt and cram herself into the corner makes the impulsive part of my inner caveboy wants to flip Donna off. For Jess’s sake, I hold back.
One of the ladies takes up Donna’s judgmental stare. The other looks like she’s wishing she’d caught another elevator. I wish we had too. Donna’s verbal darts had spot-on aim. She knew exactly which ammo to fire—Jess’s mom and Jess’s reputation.
The elevator finally opens on our floor, and she sprints down the hall.
I run after her, wedging myself between her and her door before she can go inside and lock me out. “Hey.” I touch her long waves, wishing she was more like them—uninhibited and free. “Don’t buy into other people’s shitty misperceptions.” I don’t even try to touch on the mom thing.
“She thinks, Gretchen thinks, everyone thinks we...” She blinks too many times.
“Sadly, they’re all wrong.” I blow out a melodramatic sigh. “You haveno ideawhat you’re missing out on.” I do, and it’skilllllingme. I turn on my puppy dog eyes so she doesn’t slap me. Speaking of canines. “You know that thing where owners sometimes look like their dogs?” I tuck a few curls behind her ear, determined to make her smile. “What kind of dog do you think Donna has?”
“An Afghan?” A nano-smile tugs at her mouth as she leans her shoulder against the wall.
I mirror her move so we’re facing each other. “Right? The hair? The nose?”
Her smile turns into a small giggle that has me riveted to her mouth. “That’s mean.”
“She’s mean.” It’s getting harder and harder not to lean in and trace the curve of Jess’s lips with mine. But if I don’t want to blow this thing, I need to mellow the hell out.
I hold up my room key. “Maybe we could hang out? Match dog pics with their owners online?” I move to my door, swipe my key, and push it open. “Whatever you—”
“Gabe?” My sister’s curled up on top of my bed.
“Want.” And in one breath, I go from riding the crest of a wave to being sucked underneath it.
chapter 23
