A Boy Like You (Like Us Book 1)(49)

"And I also like the things you have to search for-the bands nobody  knows and the movies with subtitles that are on late at night. I get  pissed though, because I don't speak French or Spanish, and I wish I  did. I like school, and I wish I was better at it. I think maybe if I  tried all along, I would be. I'm mad at myself for giving up in the  beginning. I'm also embarrassed that I don't know how to braid my own  hair. That's why I don't put ribbons in it like the other girls on our  team. I tried once, and I made a knot. Bows are stupid. But they're also  pretty. And-"

Before I get out another word, Wes's lips are on mine, his mouth fitting  against mine so perfectly, it's as if he's the exhale to my inhale, the  end of my every breath. I freeze under the power of his kiss, my hands  sliding to the back of his shirt, my fingers gripping to hold on as his  come up to hold my cheeks and chin, his thumbs tracing a slow circle  under each eye.         

     



 

"You don't belong in a box. That's what makes you so amazing. You … you're  a little bit of everything. And you're not ashamed to show any of it,"  he says.

"I don't know about that," I sigh. "I think I keep that shit in check," I  laugh, but I quit trying to make a joke out of my insecurities when I  meet his eyes again.

"I know about it, and I see it," he says, his thumb under my chin.

I breathe in deeply and let my head fall to the side.

"I always loved the way you looked at me," I say.

Wes's smile comes fast, and his strong arms swallow me whole. I embrace  him so tightly I'm sure I'm ruining the hair work of art Taryn tacked to  my head. I don't care, because when I'm with him, like this, no matter  how I look, I feel pretty.

"I saw you cry once … " he breathes, his voice a low hum at my ear, his  fingertips running circles over the bare skin along the top of my spine.  His touch is hypnotic.

"When?" I whisper.

"When you were young. At school, the day of the first race I went to  your house. I saw you cry. You didn't get picked for the solo in music  class. Taryn did. You pretended you didn't care, and then you asked for a  hall pass and hid around the corner from the bathroom to cry," he says.

He's right. I did. That memory has been buried under years of love for  my friend. I never held it against her. And I don't now-not even in my  memories. "I wanted Taryn to be happy. I felt selfish for being sad, so I  hid," I say. Wes tugs my chin up with his fingertips, and I look at  him, my cheek still resting on his chest.

"I know you did. That's what made it so amazing. You were this  unbelievable friend. And I wanted a friend like you in the worst way,"  he says.

His eyes sink into mine, and I picture them on that sad boy I once knew.

"You remember all of that? I thought … you didn't remember me until you  saw me?" I ask, still staring at his long lashes. His lip ticks up and  his head tilts to the side.

"I had the memory, but the face was fuzzy. When I saw you again, you filled in so many blanks," he says.

I wonder how many blank spaces I filled, just how many memories of his I  was starring in. I had millions of questions all battling to be the  next one from my lips now that my big question-who he really was-had  been answered. But they would have to wait. They'd wait because my other  half, Kyle, was standing alone in the dark corner wearing a suit. And  he looked sad.

"This is a really weird thing to ask my date, but can I dance with  someone else? Just … just for a song?" I ask, my lips forming a tight line  and my heart pounding in my stomach. I don't want him to get the wrong  impression about Kyle, but I also can't let Kyle stand there, alone.

Wes follows the motion of my eyes to Kyle, then breathes in slowly,  turning back into me, his hands sliding along my cheeks and his lips  following to my mouth. "Like I said, you were always an unbelievable  friend," he whispers against me before taking my bottom lip between both  of his, holding it there for a few seconds then letting go.

Wes steps away and nods toward the table near the dance floor where Levi  is sitting with his date. When he joins them, I turn to the right and  walk slowly to my sweet friend. His suit is pressed, and I'm sure he's  rented it-I've never seen one like this in his closet. The white shirt  underneath is beaming, and I have a feeling that's new as well. He's  painfully handsome, and in some other life, I would have been a fool not  to fall for him. But this life had other plans for me, and somehow,  Kyle has still decided to stay by my side-as my friend.

"Well don't you clean up nice, Kyle Marley," I say, stepping into the  shadow with him. He chuckles and looks down, his thumbs hanging onto his  pockets and his posture that of a boy ready to bolt.

"Thanks, Joss. You clean up pretty well yourself," he says, his head  tilted just enough that his eyes meet mine. His smile only makes it  across half his face, and his breath stops when he looks at me. His lips  close tightly as he shakes his head, glancing down to his feet. "Nah,  that's a lie. You don't clean up well. You're always beautiful. But  tonight, you are breathtaking."

My chest collapses a little, and my eyes sting with his compliment.

"Thanks," I say, swinging my hand into his. Our pinkies link with my  touch, and I let his hold on my hand linger for a few seconds before we  both let go. "Where's your date?"

His eyes flash up to mine, and even though it's dark, I can tell he's  blushing. He stretches his arms out before letting them fall to his  sides. "I don't have one. I'm … I'm not staying long. I just wanted to see  you. Taryn said Wes finally talked you into going, and I … I had to see  Josselyn Winters in a dress," he smiles.         

     



 

I squint at him, and he chuckles, shrugging with guilt.

"You shit! I rock this dress," I say, holding the skirt out a little on  each side. His laughter fades when I do, and he brings one hand up to  rub his chin.

"Yeah … you do," he says, his voice low as his eyes slide up to mine.

I suck in my bottom lip and look at his chest, not ready to take more praise from him so soon.

"Well since you're here … " I say, glancing up briefly.

"I'd love to have this dance," he says, pulling his hand from his pocket  again and holding it out for me. I take it and let him lead me to the  center of the dance floor, my eyes catching Wes's as Kyle pulls me in  close, but not too close. Wes only smiles and continues talking with his  brother. He understands, and I'm relieved he isn't jealous.

"I'm wearing my mom's boots," I say, stepping once to the side and  twisting each foot on the heel so he can admire them. Kyle smiles.

"They fit you-in so many ways," he says.

I step into his embrace slowly, my own smile a timid one. "Thanks," I  whisper. I both love and hate these boots. I hate that I love them. And I  hate that I miss my mom tonight.

"She'd be sorry, Joss," Kyle says, his chin now resting on my head.

"Hmmm?" I question.

"Your mom; if she knew you now. She'd be sorry she missed so much of  you. You're amazing, despite her. And she'd be sorry," he says. I  squeeze him tightly, and his hands close around me and squeeze back.

I hold him like this for the rest of the song, and when it ends, he  steps out of my arms and nods toward Wes. His eyes come back to me.

"I'm gonna go. There's a party at the river bottom. And I need to get  this suit back in my dad's closet," he smirks. I laugh, also relieved  that he didn't rent something special just for one dance.

"Thanks for the dance," I smile.

He shakes his head and shuts his eyes, opening them just as Wes reaches me and tugs my hand to his chest.

"It was my pleasure, Winters. Every single time," he says.

Wes shakes his hand, and without any words, Kyle leaves. Wes never asks  what we talked about, and even though I know it wouldn't be any big deal  to share, I keep it to myself. Kyle is still part of me, and I want to  hold onto those small things that are just ours-even if they're  transient and meaningless. And the fact that Wes lets me, makes my heart  swell even more.

I never leave the dance floor. For an hour and a half, I let Wes sway me  at the same tempo in a circle in a two-foot section of the gym floor.  My purse remains slung around my body, and my friends only see me when  they approach us. This stupid dance-it's the most amazing night of my  life.

The clock says nine-thirty when Wes finally leads me out the door and to  his truck. I don't ask where we're going, and I don't question the fact  that we're abandoning Levi. I just follow him.

He pulls the passenger door open for me, then tucks my dress in safely  before closing the door. The cab is dark when he climbs in, but the  moonlight reflects off his eyes, and I lose myself in them as we pull  away from campus. I let him drive me for several miles, until it dawns  on me where he's taking me.