Better Than the Movies (Better than the Movies, #1)

by Lynn Painter

Your normal cologne is kind of, like, piney, but tonight you smell more… I don’t know… spicy.” The image of him shirtless and putting on deodorant popped into my head, and I cleared my throat, sending it away.

“You smell like ass.” That made him slide into a full-on laugh. “Spicy, piney ass, you mean.” “Hilarious.” I turned on his radio in hopes of a subject change.

“I can’t believe you’re actually wearing the clothes.” He turned on his blinker and slowed for the corner. “I fully expected to see you in a grandma dress when I showed up.” “I spent money on them—of course I’m going to wear them.” He glanced over and looked directly at my outfit before returning his gaze to the road.

I toyed with one of the threads on my shredded jeans and wondered what he thought. Not that I was thirsty for a compliment from Wes Bennett—because I so wasn’t—but you couldn’t look directly at so...

“Paradise”

Wes (me): Awesome, dude. I glanced over at Wes, then added: Btw, I love your hair. You have to tell me what product you use in it. I bit my lip to hold in the smile. Michael: You’re joking, right? I glanced at Wes again before quickly adding: Dead serious. You’re my hair hero. See you in a few.

“God, no. You’re on your own, emotionally speaking. I’m just in this for the Forever Spot.”

He tousled my hair like I was a little kid—the

I-don’t-know-these-people nerves slithered through me.

No matter what I told my brain, my eyeballs continually searched him out and took a stroll all over his handsome face.

Me with Oren during lessons 🤭🤭

Wes was totally onto me, and when he made eye contact, he shook his head. Which made me stick out my tongue.

Smirky Face tilted his head—totally saw the tongue—but Wes saved me by saying,...

“You really look a lot like your mom now.” Was it possible to feel your own heart stop? Probably not, but there was a catch in my chest as I pictured my mother’s face and had the realization that Michael still remembered her face too. He could still picture her. I had to blink fast to keep it together, because in the whole of my entire life, that was the most important compliment I’d ever received.

Agreed. I’d jump in front of a bus for my mom

“You were right about the whole thunder-stealing thing, though. I am actually invisible now.” He gave me a No-you’re-not look,

Because you’re not invisible to him. Cuz the boys IN LOVE with you

Wes said, “Mind if I read over your shoulder? I’m bored.” I gave him side-eye. “You wouldn’t like this. Trust me.” “Will you shut up so I can read?” My mouth wanted to smile but I cleared my throat and said, “Sorry.”

I tried getting back into the book, but now I was hyperaware that he was reading every paragraph of the flirty, sexy-sweet book as well. I kept scrolling, but the words were different now, cartwheeling over each other with new tumbling context as the main characters started having a mildly sexual conversation.

Heheheheeheh

He gave me a slow nod as his lips slid into a full smile. “It’s the bumpiness that made you stop reading.”

You’re missing his insinuation 💀 the bumpiness that he wants to do with you

Before I hit play, I paused to offer Wes an end. He took it, and we listened in silence until we made the turn into the school parking lot.

turned to smile at Wes. But he wasn’t watching the court. He was looking at me—smirking, actually, in a way that made my stomach do a little stutter thing. I blinked, turning back to the court, hoping he didn’t notice whatever little blip that was. Then the buzzer went off, and thankfully jolted me back from whatever weird place that moment was all about.

Yeah, lying definitely makes it better. I didn’t know what I was doing anymore with all the lying, to be honest.

I’d always considered myself a pretty truthful person, but now I’d lied to Joss, to Helena, and to Michael. When was it going to stop?

Wes was the only one I hadn’t lied to lately, and that was because I wasn’t trying to please him or impress him. He knew the mess tha...

I always had at least three pairs on my person at any given time—before

That’s a mood

sat crisscross applesauce

Such a mood

Michael made some shots, but he was overshadowed by Wes, who seemed really, really good at basketball. This was going to be fun.

So-so-so-so listen up ’cause you can’t say nothin’ Michael passed the ball to Adam, who was fast and sprinted down to the corner, but Wes was already there with his hands up. Adam bounced it over to Michael, who dribbled underneath the basket and just put it in, like it was easy. Listen all y’all it’s a sabotage…

If life was a movie, this song was meant for this moment. Music made everything better.

Wes was doing some terrible dance move beside them, also laughing. There was something sweet in the way they moved from foes to friends, from athletic rivals to simple teenage boys, the minute that the metaphorical whistle blew the game over. “Whatcha smilin’ at?” I jumped and my hand flew up to my heart before yanking the buds from my ears.

I caught a glimpse of Wes in my peripheral vision. I made the mistake of turning my head in his direction, and he gave me a double thumbs-up with a cheesy smile and eyebrow waggle. Oh, for the love.

Lmaoooooo

I released, and watched my hard-core airball fail majorly. As in, the ball flew many, MANY feet short and to the side of the basket.

This is why I don’t do ball sports.

“I see all, young Michael.” He gave me an adorably playful look and said, “It’s actually ‘Michael Young.’ ” “Oh, yes,” I said, “That’s right.”

He’s got good qualities, but he is not good.” But as I said it, I didn’t quite feel it anymore. That was how I’d always thought of him, but it was becoming clear to me that either he’d changed or I’d been wrong all along.

“You really think so?” Wes said. “For sure.” Michael gave Wes a pat on the shoulder, flashed an adorable grin, and said, “You can be your own hair hero.” Uh-oh.

Wes pulled off his shirt, shoved it against my nose,

DUDE IF MICHAEL HAD BEEN IN LOVE WITH YOU HE WOULD HAVE DONE THAT. SO OBVIOUSLY WES IS IN LOVE WITH YOU

He’d dropped to the ground beside me after shoving his shirt against my face, and the smell of him, combined with his unexpected nurturing side, kept me calm.

Michael sounded like he was laughing and bouncing the basketball.

Not going to lie, it was kind of alarming how Michael was so loose and relaxed while I was practically bleeding out.

SIGN: HE IS NOT IN LOVE WITH YOU

I tried squinching it up, and it freaking killed. Shit. Wes’s face popped into my line of sight, something to look at besides the gym ceiling. “You okay?” He looked really concerned, and for some reason I felt compelled to reassure him. I blindly reached for his hand and gave it a squeeze.

HE. IS IN LOVE W YOU 💀

“She’s so much tougher than you, Bennett,” Adam said. “No shit.” Wes adjusted one side of the shirt so I could see a little better, and I felt his big, warm hand squeeze around mine. “I’d be bawling.”

I looked at Wes. He was perpetually tactless, and I knew he’d be honest with me. “What’s wrong?” I stared at him, waiting. He was shirtless, having donated his shirt to my bloody nose, and I got momentarily distracted by the sight of his chest. I mean, I wasn’t usually one to ogle anyone’s physique, but my neighbor was wicked defined. “Don’t take this the wrong way,” Adam said, answering before Wes and yanking me out of my pectoral revelry, “but your nose looks kind of like… Mrs. Potato Head’s nose.”

Michael didn’t even hide his laugh, but it was at least a warm, friendly laugh. “It does resemble a potato nose. And it’s bleeding again.”

Dudes not in love w you. Wes is not laughing 🫠

“No, it doesn’t; don’t listen to them.” Wes lifted my chin in his thumb and forefinger, and his eyes dropped down to my covered nose. “Your nose is just a tiny bit swollen.”

“Nope, no objections. I’m taking you to the ER, and you can call your parents on the way. Cool?”

Wes looked worried, which made me feel a little warm and fuzzy. Which meant I probably had a concussion.

But as we exited the gym, it occurred to me that Wes had donated his clothes to me twice now. Either I was on a hidden-camera show and Wes was pranking me, or he was seriously the nicest guy.

“You think you’re pretty funny, don’t you?” “I mean, yeah, I think I’m a fairly amusing person.” I grabbed the metal railing and wondered how I’d ended up alone with Wes at the end of this night, instead of making magic with Michael. I was a little surprised that I didn’t feel more disappointed, but perhaps that was just my body’s defense mechanism to keep me from dying of embarrassment.

follicle adoration.

“Why are you hurting me like this?” “Sorry.” I tried not to stare as we walked under a streetlight, but I realized as I looked at him that his face was always fun. He almost never looked pissed or like an asshole, and I couldn’t imagine him being legitimately angry. “I guess I’m projecting.” He glanced over at me and gave me a closed-mouth pity-frown. “How is the honker feeling?” “It doesn’t really hurt now. Except when I touch it.” “So don’t touch it.” “Really?” He shrugged and put his hands in his jacket pockets. “Seems logical.”

With every step I tried to figure out what was up with Wes’s sudden-onset niceness.