Mr. Right

17 year old Nicole Michels decides to start fresh her senior year. New attitude new her! What happens when she gets a new history teacher and there "relationship" involves more then tutoring sessions?


8. Chapter 8

His hands tangled in my hair as he deepened the kiss. His tongue battling for dominance once again winning. He starts to kiss down my neck and it gives me a jolt of electricity that runs through my entire body.

"It's just she won't understand that I don't want to go!" Kyle's only response was a hum while he continued to kiss my neck.

"I mean who want's to get drunk at some party with a bunch of people you don't know?" He brings his lips back to mine and kisses me softly before pulling away and leaning back on the couch giving out a sigh.

"I'm sorry. It's just I don't know what to do." I look up into his eyes that are swimming with different emotions.

"Hey it's ok. I'm not dating you just to make out." He lets out a little chuckle which causes me to laugh.

"Oh you're not? Could have fooled me." This time I'm the one to laugh and he just rolls his eyes at me.

"So what should I do?" I want him to tell me what to do. See Taylor want's to go to a party after homecoming tomorrow but I really don't want to.

"Ok well why don't you just say that your parents won't let you go anywhere and then you come stay here." My eyes shoot up at him was he serious?

"You want me to stay the night at your apartment?"

"Well ya only if you want to." I answer him by crashing my lips to his.


"Just sit still!" Taylor has been scolding me for ten minutes while trying to do my makeup.

"You're going to poke my eye out!" I have never been good with letting other people do my makeup. But, since I can't do it right I guess I have to get used to it.

30 minutes and a lot of yelling later Taylor is all done.

"Here, look." She hands me a mirror and I look at my hair and makeup all done. Taylor curled my hair and then twisted it and pinned it back.

"Taylor, I look amazing. Thank you." She gives me a hug and we go off and put on our dresses.


It's an hour into the dance and we are having a blast. I've already danced with a couple guys but mostly just with my friends. I walk over to get a drink when someone taps me on the shoulder. I turn around to see Kyle standing their in a pair of jeans and a button down.

"Kyle, what are you doing here?" I whisper but loud enough for him to hear.

"Chaperoning." He gives me a breath taking smile and I have to repress the smile from my own lips.

"You should have told me you were coming!" He just rolls his eyes and continues to smile. I turn my back and walk back over to Taylor to see her grinding on some guy.

A slow song comes on and I see someone stand in front of me.

"Do you want to dance?" I look up to see Duncan Mitchell one of the more popular guys in my grade.

I look around spotting Kyle talking to my english teacher Ms. Mackensen.

"Sure." I take his hand and he leads me to the dance floor wrapping his arms around my waist. I wrap mine around his neck and lean my head on his shoulder as we sway to the music.

The song ends and Duncan leans down and kisses my cheek before walking back to his friends. I give him a smile and then look around for Kyle. I just catch his retreating back walking through the doors. I run to catch up to him getting there surprisingly fast considering I'm wearing heels.

"Where are you going?" He spins around practically running into me.

"Home." He says flatly and tries to leave but I catch his arm.

"Are you leaving because I danced with Duncan." He doesn't answer at first before he says "No." flatly.

"You're jealous. You're jealous of Duncan." He again just meets me with silence.

"Look we are just friends. If even that. We barely talk and he just asked to dance I wasn't going to be rude."

"What about the kiss on the cheek?" He said finally looking me in the eyes.

"Oh that? Beats me that even caught me off gaurd. Trust me if there's anyone that I'm going to kiss tonight it's you." And with that I brush my lips to his in a passionate yet short kiss.

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