Page 19 of A Little Tempting
The knowing gleam in her eyes makes me purse my lips. “I already told you I did.”
“Then I say we try to figure out who it was, even if we have to ask every guy on campus point-blank.”
My body fights to curl in on itself, but I stand strong. Pushing away from the wall with a deep breath, I attempt to remember how ridiculous this entire conversation really is. “Finley, it was just a kiss.”
“For ninety-nine percent of the people at the party, sure. But for my cute little doe?” She steps closer. “I think not.”
She’s right. I might not want to admit it out loud, but it’s true. I’m not…I’m not a casual kisser. I’ve tried to be, and it didn’t take. So much so we have a rule with Truth or Dare or any other game involving a bet. For me? Kissing is off the table, simple as that.
“We should drop it now instead of making this into something it isn’t,” I decide.
“Admit it, you’re basically living out Cinderella.”
“Yeah, if I was the prince,” I mock, rolling my eyes as the realization hits full force. Seriously. This is ridiculous.
“Oh, come on,” she argues. “They've made loads of different versions.”
“So, what? He’s my Cinderell-o?”
“Noooo,” she drags out. “Obviously, he’s your Cinderfella.”
I snort. “Pretty sure that’s even worse.”
“Look, the name isn’t the point, even though I think Cinderfella is pretty adorable.” Her chest puffs out with pride as if she’s the most clever person alive. “The point is, you’re officially in a fairytale, and I’m the one who got you there, so you’re welcome.”
“I wouldn’t celebrate quite yet,” I mutter. “Besides, the guy called me by my first name, so it’s not like he doesn’t know who I am, and since he clearly wanted to hide his identity from me, I’m pretty sure tracking him down is a bad idea.”
“Aw, come on,” she begs. “It’ll be fun.”
“Potentially being turned down by a cute guy all because I’m stalking him? Yeah, sounds like a real hoot.”
“Wait, how do you know he’s cute if you didn’t see his face?”
Looking down at my feet, I shift from one foot to the other as my cheeks flood from the memory of the kiss. “Trust me, I could just…tell.”
“How?”
“You know how it is,” I hedge.
“Spell it out for me, babe.”
With a sigh, I look up at her again. “With the kind of confidence this guy was sporting, he’s…definitely comfortable in his own skin. We’ll have to leave it at that.”
“Mm-hmm. Okay. Totally get it.” She nods as if collecting data and storing it for later. “If we're gonna track this guy down, I need every detail you can remember.”
“Or, we can drop this whole thing, go home, and watch a movie,” I suggest.
“Or you can give me all the details, and I’ll make a mental note of every person at this party who fits the description, and?—”
“Finley,” I beg.
“Andthen,” she emphasizes, “we go home, watch a movie, and I give my detective skills a rest until tomorrow.” She nudges her shoulder with mine. “Deal?”
“On one condition,” I decide. “You can’t flat out ask any guys if they kissed me tonight. It would be…weird.”
“Not even Everett?”
“Especiallynot Everett.”