Practice Makes Perfect (When in Rome, #2)(64)
Suddenly I realize my family is all staring at me like I have a horn sprouting from between my eyes. “What?” I ask, alarm running through my voice.
“He just said a cuss word. Why doesn’t he get a tally in the sacred notebook?” Emily asks.
“Oh. Well, because…” I turn my eyes to Will and contemplate it. The answer springs to my mind immediately, but I know I can’t say it out loud. Because I like it when he does. So instead, I smile. Not even meaning to, really. And Will smiles, too, like he can read my thoughts. Like he’s remembering our secret stolen moments together in the flower shop, in my truck, in my room—and that just maybe he knows me in different ways than my siblings do. “He gets one freebie.”
That seems to appease everyone enough for their attention to turn away from me.
“Speaking of freebies!” Amelia starts. “Guess what I brought y’all back from L.A.”
I tune out as Will leans in close to my ear. “Is it okay that I’m here? I figured it would be because everyone in the town thinks we’re dating now. But maybe I assumed wrong, and you want to keep our hangouts on the down-low?”
Hmm, is it okay that he’s here? That his warm breath is caressing the shell of my ear and making my head spin? That just the nearness of him has the blood in my veins pumping with fire? No. It’s not okay. And I think it’s only fair that he move far, far away because whether he means to or not, he’s slowly wrecking my plans.
“I’m glad you’re here,” I say with a quiet grin. “And my family knows we’re not really together now. They guessed it the other day, so there’s no pressure to act like it at the table.”
“Hmm,” he says making a deep noise in his throat. “That’s too bad.”
And something happens to me that I’ve never experienced before. The world around me falls away, and for once, I’m not worried what anyone is thinking of me. All I know is Will’s eyes are fixed on mine, and his mouth is curving softly and his hand is dropping to my leg where it splays out like it’s been in that same spot a hundred times before. And before I know it, I’m tipping forward. He meets me in the middle and our lips brush.
It’s not enough, though, and instinctively my hand raises to clutch the back of his neck, my body curving toward his as his hand contracts against my thigh. Our mouths move and press and it feels so right. So hot—his touch burns me from the inside out. I feel the subtle glide of his tongue across my mine and that’s when reality grabs me by the scruff of my neck. Oh my gosh, we’re making out at the table in front of my family. Me! Annie Walker is making out in a public setting. I rip my mouth away from Will’s and pat my lips with the back of my hand.
Everyone—and I do mean everyone in this bar—is wide-eyed, staring. They look like cartoons with jaws unhinged.
Emily speaks first as a laugh courses through her voice. “Well, I think Hot Bank Teller is wishing he’d asked you out right about now.”
“What?”
My eyes fly over Will’s shoulder, and sure enough, John is here, watching—looking just as shocked as everyone else. Of course my sisters don’t know that I actually went on that date with John and that it was a disaster, so they move on from Emily’s statement pretty quick. But because I did go out with him and he damaged my self-esteem by leaving mid date, a whole new layer gets added to that public make-out session with Will.
I didn’t do that to get John’s attention or prove anything to him—but knowing that he’s having to eat his words, that maybe I’m not as boring or awkward as he suspected, has a surge of joy rocketing through me. But would I have kissed him in public? Would I have felt safe enough with him to ever let him touch me the way I let Will? I don’t think so.
Will notices my triumphant expression and turns his face to see where my gaze is landing. And I can feel the moment all the dots connect for him. His body stiffens slightly, and when he looks back to me—his face is a little too void of emotion. “That was the guy, right?”
I don’t need for him to expound. “Yes.”
He nods a few times. “Nice. I think you successfully made him jealous,” he says in a low voice so the rest of the table can’t hear.
“No, Will, that’s—”
“It’s exactly what I would have done. Great job. All this practicing is paying off.” He gives me a smile that feels so fake I want to wipe it off his face. I hate that smile. That’s not his smile. That’s a shielded self-preservation smile. And it only serves to remind me that Will doesn’t want me to know him. He promised me from the beginning that this would never be anything more than practice, and he’s reestablishing those boundaries now.
I hate practice.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Will
It’s been a few days since the kiss in the bar that completely shook me. No, I’m not being dramatic, and no I’m not exaggerating. I don’t think I’ve ever thought about a kiss for longer than twenty minutes after the fact. But Annie’s kiss…that one soft, vulnerable kiss, has been playing through my head for three days now. It was perfect in a way that I can’t describe. I know that public attention is hard for her, so to have her initiate that kiss because she wanted it was too much.