The Kiss List

Six

He taps the top of my laptop screen again. "What are you working on?"

I come back to reality, mentally kicking myself. It was probably so obvious that I was checking him out. "History essay," I say quickly, forcing myself to look away from him and down at my word document.

"Hm. Sounds boring. Let's hang out instead." He runs a finger across the top of my screen. When I look back up at his face, I find that he's still staring at me, green eyes boring into mine. He raises an eyebrow at me, challenging me. Do it, my subconscious urges me, what if it leads somewhere interesting... like making out between the shelves...

I bite my lip. "And do what?"

His eyes drag down to my lips. "Not that," he jokes with a grin.

I'm slightly offended, but I have to admit that I'm enjoying the back and forth, so I play into it. "Well," I huff sarcastically, "then I'd rather work on my history essay."

"Naughty girl." He shakes his head, smiling. "Tell me about yourself, Rachel."

I lean back in my chair. "That might be a lot to get through... what do you want to know?"

"Hmm... is Yorkie the first poor soul you've destroyed?"

I run my hand through my hair and meet his gaze. "Yes, but let's not call it that. I feel like a bitch."

"I doubt that," he remarks. "And don't, I already told you that it was stupid. No one thinks you're a bitch."

"So there were people there?? When he called?" I try to keep the embarrassment out of my voice but fail miserably. I'm also way too loud, eliciting an annoyed shhh out of the woman working at the desk next to mine.

"Yeah, Rachel, shhh." Nathan wags a finger at me teasingly. "And yeah, we were hanging out, he said he wanted to ask you to be his girlfriend," he rolls his eyes as he says the word, "and we told him to do it right then, over the phone so we could hear the answer."

I gasp. "That's horrible! You guys are so mean."

He laughs. "Please, he could have said no. He gives in too easily. Plus, any idiot could see that you were barely interested."

I can't help but smile, despite feeling even worse for poor Yorkie than I already did.

"I did think I was making it pretty obvious," I mutter.

"Do tell..." he presses me, leaning closer.

"I can't tell you, I feel bad enough already, and you would make fun of him for it," I groan.

"I won't, I won't, I promise." He holds out his hand, pinky finger lifted.

I smirk. I feel oddly comfortable with him, even though I'm definitely attracted to him. I lean in close and link my pinky with his.

"Cross your heart and hope to die? Only two other people in the whole world know, and they've been sworn to secrecy," I whisper, "so if it gets out, I'll know it was you."

"Sure, cross my heart, hope to die, take it to the grave, you can punch me in the face and break my nose if I tell anyone," he whispers back. Our faces are so close that I can feel his breath on my face. He squeezes our pinky fingers together, and it sends a chill up my arm and through my whole body, which I try to ignore, keeping my eyes on his.

"Okay," I begin, keeping my voice low, "he told me that kissing was like eating a taco, in that you turn your face 90 degrees and open wide."

He laughs loudly and heartily, throwing his head back. The woman at the table next to ours shoots him a death glare, and he holds up his hand in apology. He buries his face in his arm, shaking with silent laughter. I can't help but giggle as well. It is pretty funny.