Did that really just happen? Did Will Sinclair just kiss me?
Not just kissed her, either—but kissed her. The kind of kiss that made her want to collapse into a heap on the floor. The kind of kiss she felt in her toes. The kind of kiss that ruined her for all future kisses.
Am I. . .with Will Sinclair now?
Will Sinclair had kissed her. He said he thought about her. He said he’d call her. After all the horrible Christmases, all of the present-less mornings, the yelling and fighting, the pretending and hiding—maybe Christmas wasn’t so bad after all.
She woke late the next morning.
Will.
The sun was streaming through her window—but she was still living in the dark warmth of his room.
“I’ve always had a thing for you,” he had said. He said that. To me.
Lauren waited. She waited for him to call, to text, to stop by.
She waited.
Will didn’t call. Not that day. Not the next day.
Not the day after that, either.
After seven days—a full week since she’d driven him home—she overheard Spencer talking about a party he was going to with Will. She burned with hurt, and before she thought better, she got in her car and drove to the party.
She had to talk to Will.
Lauren walked into the crowded house, wall-to-wall people, and she pressed her way through the crowd of sweaty alcohol and red Solo cups. A player she recognized from Spencer’s baseball team turned suddenly and spilled his drink all over her shirt.
“Oh, man, I’m so sorry.” Clumsy started patting her chest with a napkin, and she pushed him, violated, hot tears stinging her eyes.
“Back off!” she shouted over the noise.
“Sorry.” He held up two hands in surrender, then righted the Santa hat on his head.
She stuck out her chin. “Have you seen Will Sinclair?”
“Nah,” Clumsy said, as a guy they called “Tank” walked by, overhearing.
“You looking for Will?” Tank asked.
She nodded. “Yeah, have you seen him?”
Tank laughed. “Check with her.” He pointed across the room at a thin blond cheerleader who’d graduated the year ahead of Lauren.
“Kaitlyn! This chick, sorry what’s your name again—？”
“Lauren.”
“—yeah, Lauren, right, she’s looking for Will,” Tank shouted over the din.
Lauren’s face heated as the girl looked her up and down, grimaced, then said, “Why?”
“Why are you looking for him? Are you like, his tutor or something?” Clumsy asked.
She’d never felt more out of place in her life.
Lauren’s face heated with irritation. “I just need to talk to him.” Lauren pushed her way past them, eyes scanning, but there was no Will. And thankfully, no Spencer either. Maybe they were together. Maybe they’d decided not to come to this stupid party at all. Maybe Will was telling Spencer how he really felt about her—making sure it was cool with her brother if the two of them were a couple.
She made her way around the whole house, decked out for Christmas, only a few days away now, but there was no sign, and then walked by the kitchen.
“Can you explain why that loser of a girl is looking for you?” The accusation stopped Lauren just outside the room. She stayed behind the doorjamb, hidden from sight but with a clear view into the kitchen. She listened over the noise of the party.
“I don’t even know who you’re talking about.”
Will.
“Well, she apparently knows you. Some girl named Lauren or something?”
“Wait. Spencer’s little sister?”
Lauren’s face flushed.
“I guess,” Kaitlyn cracked. “What is she doing here and why is she asking for you?”
Will scoffed. “I don’t know why she’s here—I didn’t invite her.”
Lauren’s muscles tensed—she was so thankful for the wall between them right now.
“Well, she’s here somewhere. For you. Care to explain?”
Will, you said that you always wondered about me. . . please just say that you want me and not her please. . .
A pause. “Kaitlyn, do you really think there’s something going on with me and Lauren Richmond?” Another pause. “I’ve known her my whole life—she’s like my little sister.”
No.
Kaitlyn cocked a hip, toeing one foot and draping an arm on Will’s neck. “You promise?”
“Are you worried?”
She leaned against the wall, heart racing. Will, PLEASE!