Chapter Twenty-Three
Nina
“I don’t get it,” I griped to my mom and brother at dinner that night. “How can he not see this is a better option?”
“Maybe he’s annoyed that you’re working against him,” Jason said.
“I’m not working against him. This isn’t personal. And I have the moral high ground.” My mom gave me the look, which meant she didn’t quite agree with me.
“I need you to listen to me,” my mom said. “Libraries are wonderful, but recycling centers are good, too. He doesn’t want to bulldoze the building; he wants to convert it and give it another life.”
“I get that.” And really, I did. “But there are plenty of empty buildings that could be turned into a recycling center. Why close the library?”
“I don’t know. But you two seemed to be doing well before this happened. Ask yourself this, is it something worth fighting over?”
Ugh. This was so frustrating. “I wasn’t trying to start a fight; I just thought I was presenting him with a more logical option, and he won’t even consider it.”
“Maybe you need to respect his decision,” Jason said. “I know you love to argue, but sometimes it’s irritating.”
“You can agree to disagree,” my mom said. “Or if it’s a deal breaker, then it’s a deal breaker. You’re the only one who can figure that out.”
…
The next morning, I glanced out the picture window and spotted West sitting in his car, reading on his phone. I guess that meant he would give me a ride, if I still wanted one. Or maybe it meant he was reading a good book. This was going to be fabulously awkward.
My mom came up behind me and said, “Nothing ventured, nothing gained.”
“How does that apply to this situation?”
“I think you’re good for him, and I bet you could help him be a happier person.”
“So he’s a fixer-upper?” I asked.
“Most men are,” she said. “And unless he moves or his dad evicts us, you’re going to be spending time around him. See if you can get him to loosen up and live a little.”
“I guess I’ll give it a shot.” Bookworm versus Brooding Hottie who plots to close libraries, take two.
When I opened the car door, he glanced up at me. “I wasn’t sure if we were riding together today or not.”
Okay. Was he saying he didn’t want to give me a ride? “I’m not sure how to respond to that statement.”
“It’s simple,” he said. “You either get in the car, or you close the door and drive yourself.”
Okay then. At this point, I was leaning toward driving myself. Or maybe I should ride with him for spite. Then again, did I want to deal with him being crabby this morning? I might be responsible for part of his mood, but it couldn’t be all me.
“Just get in,” he said with great irritation, as if he had the authority to tell me what to do. Wrong.
“Nope. I’m out.” I slammed the door and walked up the driveway toward my car. Why should I put up with him being moody?
I heard his car door open and close, and then footsteps coming up behind me as I opened my car door.
“Nina, you’re being ridiculous.”
“Am I?” I turned to face him and crossed my arms over my chest. “I hate to break it to you, but the ratio of obnoxious to attractive is not working in your favor this morning.”
He scrunched his eyebrows together. “What does that mean?”
I glared at him. “It’s simple. The more obnoxious a person is, the less attractive he is. You wanting to close down the library, combined with not giving a crap whether I ride with you or not, has made you fairly unattractive.”
He tilted his head and studied me for a moment. I waited for him to say something, but he didn’t. The silence stretched out.
“Do you have a response?” I asked. “Are we done? Can I get in my car?”
He took a step toward me and then glanced back at his house. In a surprise move, he grabbed my arm. “Come with me.”
Okay. Now what?
I allowed him to lead me around to the back of the shed where we weren’t in view of anybody driving by on the street. He continued holding my arm, pulling me close so we were toe-to-toe.
My heart beat faster as he stared down at me and reached to brush my hair behind my ear. “So you’re not attracted to me anymore, is that what you’re saying?”
My brain said yes, but my hormones were too busy noticing that he smelled good, like clothes fresh from the dryer, combined with masculine shower gel.
Before I could answer, he leaned in and skimmed his mouth down the side of my neck. Heat shot through my body. My brain disengaged. “Oh…” was the most intelligent counterargument I could come up with.
He wrapped one arm around my waist. His lips skimmed across my earlobe. “You were saying.”
Blood pounded through my veins so loudly he could probably hear my heartbeat. And I could feel the smugness radiating off his body, or maybe that was hormonal heat. “You’re still wrong about closing the library,” I said, before turning to line my mouth up with his.
“How can you—” he started to argue.
I cut off his argument by kissing him. For a second, I was afraid he’d push me away, like this had all been a joke. Then he took a step toward me, pressing my back against the wall of the shed. Suddenly, nothing else seemed important.
His mouth moved away from mine. “So this is you not wanting me?”
My face burned. “Fine. You’re obnoxious and wrong about the library, but I still find you attractive.”
“Then, I win.” He grinned like he was quite proud of himself, and then he kissed me again, a slow, deep kiss that scrambled what was left of my brain. And then he left…just walked away from me and headed back toward the driveway and presumably toward his car. I heard the sound of his engine starting, followed by him driving away.
What. The. Hell? Had he just left me? I stalked around the shed to the driveway and stared at the spot where West’s car should have been. Where he should have been waiting to smirk at me, because obviously I was still attracted to him, but that was okay because he was just as obviously still attracted to me. Which in my brain meant we were actually dating, which meant he should be giving me a ride to school. Apparently, my brain and my body were both idiots. And West was a complete jackass.