From the Inside Flap
I could see Nix swallow beneath the collar of his t-shirt. For what seemed like the hundredth time, he rearranged stuff on his tray, and it seemed he had a hard time looking at me.
I'd pushed it too far. I was being way too forward with him, but I couldn't seem to stop myself. I was not practiced at flirting, and it seemed that I'd been reading his thoughts all wrong. In my state of distress from the car ride, I'd forgotten to take off my sweatshirt. Feeling like a fool for rubbing my foot so suggestively up his leg, I hopped off the table and walked over to the hook on the wall. Now I wanted to get this done and fast.
I unzipped my sweatshirt and slipped it off my shoulders. As I reached up to hang it on the hook, Nix's stool slid across the floor, and before I could lower my hands, his arms snaked around my waist, and he pulled my back against his hard chest.