“Good to know.” He ordered their shakes, then motioned for her to get out of the car. “You ready?”
She took a deep breath and tossed her hair. I’m Laurey. I’m strong, and I can do anything. “Yep.”
They climbed out of the car at the same time and Kyle walked with measured steps around the hood to her side. Violet shot him a quick thumbs-up and vanished. He didn’t seem to notice. His eyes were glued on Faith, looking her over slowly. Only a quick tilt of his chin indicated he was asking her, one more time, if she wanted to do this.
In answer, she smiled, grabbed hold of the belt loops of his jeans, and pulled him against her. He let out a surprised gasp when her mouth met his. They melted together, and Faith forgot all about the dozens of students watching, Cameron and Holly, and the carhops. Not even Violet’s pleased, and very, very evil cackle made her want to stop.
Kyle’s hand ran up her back. He pulled away to kiss her temple. “I’m saying something witty. Laugh.”
Faith, drawing on her acting chops, let out a peal of laughter. Vi’s delighted grin told her it was pretty convincing.
Then Kyle’s mouth was back on hers. The shocked silence at the diner broke, and chatter slowly rose all around them. A few whistles. A few grumbles.
And best of all? Tristan yelling, “God damn it, Sawyer! I hate it when you’re right.”
Faith had no idea what that meant, but Kyle’s mouth popped off hers. He turned a cheerful smile on the gaggle of baseball players across the patio and flipped off Tristan. They hooted and hollered. Tristan gave them a slow clap.
If she’d cared about her reputation at all right now, she would’ve blushed to the roots of her hair and dug a hole nine feet deep to hide in. Instead, she put her hands on Kyle’s cheeks, turning him to face her again, and planted another kiss firmly on his lips.
This time Kyle let out a slightly frustrated growl. Yeah, maybe they were taking this a little too far for public.
But what if they were alone? Would she stop? Would she be able to hold out and ask herself if he was the right guy?
That was a very good question.
She pulled back and whispered so only he’d hear. “Looks like our ice cream is on the way out. We can probably quit showing off.” Her lips brushed his ear. “Or not. It’s up to you.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Kyle
Faith’s cheeks were flushed, and from the way the hushed words tumbled from her mouth, this had nothing to do with being at Dolly’s.
His palms went slick on her back, and his entire body went rigid. He really liked this girl, but he’d told so many lies. What would she think of him if she realized she’d just publicly made out with the only eighteen-year-old player virgin in all of Suttonville?
So much for destroying her reputation.
His lies had dug him into a trench he wasn’t sure he could climb out of, no matter how much he wanted this girl. This sweet, kind, graceful girl, who watched him with shining eyes—she didn’t deserve this. Not even a little.
“Kyle?” Faith tilted her head to get a better look at him. “You okay? Did I say something wrong?”
“Hey! Asshole!”
All his breath whooshed out in a gust. Irony was a bitch—he’d just been saved by Cameron. He couldn’t handle the guilt of pulling a fast one on Faith, but anger? Anger he could handle.
In fact, he was furious. With himself, to be honest, but Cameron would be an acceptable substitute. He was stomping their direction, flanked by five football players. Holly Masterson sat on the hood of Cameron’s truck, looking hurt and scared.
Faith, on the other hand, was pushing to move around Kyle like she wanted to fight this fight. Not going to happen. He needed to hit something. Cameron’s jaw, preferably. He couldn’t be suspended for a fight outside of school, and this moment had been a long, long time in coming. He wasn’t that eighth grader Cameron had punched in the face for standing up to him after one too many taunts. He could swing a bat and send a ball four hundred yards. Beating the hell out of Cameron would take less effort than that.
Kyle turned and held an arm out to keep Faith behind him. “Hey, Cam. How’s it going?”
Cameron stood toe-to-toe with him. He was an inch shorter and twenty-five pounds lighter, at least, but like all bulldogs, he thought physics didn’t matter. He poked Kyle in the chest. “What are you doing with my girl?”
“Your girl?” Kyle asked calmly, even though his fists were aching to pound this douche canoe. “I was under the impression that you cheated on her, and you two broke up. I didn’t even meet her until the day after that, which means you aren’t in the picture.”