Page 73 of Fifty First Times (Sharing You 0.40)
“Except you did make it, albeit by accident. Which leads me to the second lie. I thought there was no boyfriend in the picture.”
“There’s not,” I hedge.
He studies my profile. “Didn’t look that way from where I was standing.”
“Come on,” I say, elbowing him. “Like you’ve never made out with a girl at a party.”
But Garrett doesn’t take the bait, and instead sits waiting for an explanation.
It’s weird—in the same way Zach seemed to know that I’m not the type of girl to kiss a guy in a game like spin the bottle, Garrett seems to know that I’m not the type of girl to kiss a random guy at a party just because.
The comparison between the two guys is a little unsettling, partially because I’d always subconsciously put Zach in the prince category, and Garrett in the . . . Well, I don’t know exactly what category I’d put Garrett in. I do know that that category seems to be changing tonight.
And that weirds me out more than anything.
I look away quickly. “Zach’s not my boyfriend,” I clarify.
“But you want him to be.”
I lift my shoulders.
He runs a hand over his mouth and gives a little laugh. “I so did not see this happening when I invited Zach to the party.”
My gaze flies back to him. “You invited Zach to the party?”
“Sure. We sit next to each other in econ. Help each other out with notes when the other person zones out. He’s a good guy, Annie.”
He says it begrudgingly, but that’s not what gets me. It’s his use of my first name. He always calls me Gilmore, or Anners, or a handful of less-flattering nicknames.
“I should have figured you’d be the one to tell him to bring hot girls,” I say, trying to lighten the mood.
“I certainly didn’t mean you,” he grumbles.
“Hey!” I say, a little offended, especially since it’s a soft spot of mine. “I can be hot.”
Garrett closes his eyes. “That’s not what I meant.”
“Then what did you mean?”
He opens his eyes then and turns his head slowly to face me, and suddenly I’m extra aware that it’s really dark in here and that I can feel his breath on my cheek.
I turn my face, just a little, and now I can feel his breath on my lips. And it feels really, really nice.
Too nice.
Because this is Garrett Reed, and . . .
“Gilmore,” he whispers, his face moving imperceptibly closer. My face tilts up. My eyes close.
For one horrible second I want Garrett to kiss me. Not a slow, sweet melding of mouths, but the hot, hard kind of kiss that quickly escalates to me peeling his shirt over his head, his hands unfastening my bra . . .
I want him to push me back against the pillows, and . . .
There’s a soft knock at the door, and we both spring back as the door slowly opens.
“Annie?” A voice whispers.
It’s Zach. Oh God, Zach. I spring to my feet.
