The Rivals - Dylan Allen Page 0,161

door for me. No one’s ever done that before and those butterflies I’ve been trying to ignore since he sauntered into the bookstore are back.

God, my mother’s right. At least when it comes to this boy with his sexy smile and nice car.

“Hey,” I call as I approach. He’s all cleaned up in dark jeans and a white button down that is rolled up at the sleeves. He’s wearing loafers and looks good enough to eat. I look around to see if maybe someone’s lurking behind a bush with a camera, waiting to jump out and tell me this is all a joke. But there are only people milling around Rivers Wilde Main Street, like they always do.

“Hey yourself. You look great.” He puts a big hand in the small of my back and leans down to press a kiss on my cheek. “And you smell great, too.”

Those butterflies? I was wrong… they’re birds. Big ones that just took off in a mad flock of flutters in my stomach.

Oh my.

I’m so discomfited that I just stand there.

“Uh yeah, you too.” I say and look down at myself, my white t shirt and bright orange shorts, in confusion though. I’ve been wearing them all day.

“Hop in,” he says and waits until I’m seated before he closes the door and walks round to his side. I watch him and shake my head. He’s too good to be true. I’m asking for trouble letting myself get mixed up with him at all.

But…truth be told, I couldn’t stop if I tried. There’s something about him that just draws me in. He’s handsome, but it’s also that I can tell he gives a shit about the people around him. And that’s rare in my world.

“We’re going to be late,” he says as soon as he gets into the car.

“Just a few minutes,” I say trying to steady my hands enough to buckle my seat belt. I put newly discovered inner freak back in her cage and smile at him.

“A few minutes, five minutes, an hour—it doesn’t really matter. Once you’re late, you’re late.”

“Gosh, okay. I’ll keep that in mind.” I give him a wide eyed glance.

He smiles sheepishly. “Sorry, I’m anal about time.”

“So, you’re never late?”

“Nope,” he says quickly.

“Not even to school?”

“Especially not to school.”

“I bet you had perfect attendance, too.”

“What’s wrong with having perfect attendance?”

“Nothing, if you’re a square,” I tease him. He’s fun to tease because he’s so sensitive about his “coolness” and tries to pretend he’s not. He takes my bait and frowns at me, taking his eyes from the road for the first time.

“I’m the least square guy I know.”

“Sure.” I shrug as if I don’t believe him.

“Just because I don’t oversleep doesn’t make me a square. And I like school.”

“I didn’t say anything about oversleeping. I don’t know… you were never sick?”

“Nope.”

“Have a doctor’s appointment?”

“You can schedule those around classes.”

I lean back and eye him skeptically. “You never wanted to skip school so you could go to the rodeo during the week?”

“Nope. Never.”

“I highly recommend it. I got caught once, but it was worth it to not have to wait in line for my smoked turkey leg.”

“Yeah, that sounds like a great reason to miss class,” he says irritably.

“You’re just mad I called you a square.” I nudge his thigh with my fingers.

“I’m not mad. Since it’s completely untrue.”

“It’s very true. You’re a hot, athletic version of Carlton from Fresh Prince.”

He winces and puts a hand over his heart. “Damn. That hurt.”

I laugh and he eyes me and shoots me a sly smile deepening the ever-present dimples in his cheeks.

“If I’m Carlton, you’re Will. You know… the cousin from the hood?” He waggles his eyebrows and I know I should probably be offended, but I’m not.

“Okay, I deserve that.” We laugh, our eyes hold and there’s something in the way he’s looking at me that sets those flutters loose inside me again.

God, he smells so good. I glance over at him and put on my best I don’t care at all face, but inside the butterflies have multiplied.

He turns on the radio and I turn and pull out my notebook and open it to the spot where I stopped last night.

“I can’t even read in a moving car; how can you write?” His question comes when I’m only two sentences in. I give him a sidelong glance. He’s watching the road. His profile is a study in perfection and suddenly, I wish I could draw because I’d like to capture