I snort, relieved. “Probably not.”
Like he’s frustrated with my lack of self-preservation or something, but he’s also trying to smile at me, his eyes—blue/green today—narrow in on me, and his mouth gets all smooshed. It’s adorable with all the scruff.
“How many other people are in this house right now?”
“Besides us? I have no idea.” I give him a fake gasp and pretend to defend myself with my fork. “But if they come in here, I’ll make sure to put up a good fight.”
“I hardly think a fork will save you.”
“You haven’t seen my skills.”
He sighs. “Kel . . . ”
“No one else is here, Moron. Chill out.”
“Could you please at least humor me?”
“I thought I was.”
“No, you’re teasing me.”
“That’s what we do.”
“But I’m being serious. Will you turn on the system?” He pouts, and clasps his hands together. I’m surprised he’s not on his knees. “Please?”
I sigh and roll off the bed, making sure my bottoms aren’t too low that I’m accidentally mooning him. It’s been so long since I set this thing, I’m surprised I know the code still. But after making a show of covering the keypad so he can’t see it from all the way over there, we hear a little beep, and BOOM! We’re nice and safe . . . as long as we don’t leave my room and trigger the invisible sensors.
“Happy now, Mr. Paranoid?”
“Yes.”
I sashay back to my bed, but stop halfway. Should I sit next to him? My heart thump thump thumps at the idea alone. But what if he ends up on the bed with me? Yikes! I can’t handle that again. I’ll lose my mind and forget what this is all about. Kiss him, then he’ll disappear and I’ll get my sensible brain back.
The Twizzler packet crinkles in my hand as I pick it up, breaking the silence.
“You want some?”
He cracks a smile. “Bring some of those oranges too.”
I don’t mean to, but he probably thinks I do, when I go to sit down, I lean over him to put the bowl of orange slices on the table next to him, and yes, my boobs are right in his face. And here’s the real sad part, I kinda wish he’ll grab my waist and make me sit on top of him. When did this happen? This mushy gooey nasty gross twitterpated hormonal disease I suddenly have toward this guy . . . oy, this better stop soon.
“Uh, you gonna sit?” His voice cracks and when I look down to his eyes, they’re focused on the ceiling.
“Oh, yeah, sorry. I thought I-I . . . smelled something.”
Point one for Kelli on the loser scale. Smelled something? Wow, how brilliant of me.
He laughs, as I knew he would because I’m an idiot.
“Good to know it’s working.” His long finger taps my nose.
“Yeah.” Oh boy, I hope my face isn’t as red as it feels. “That was some nasty stuff. No wonder you didn’t call me after.”
And the foot in my mouth moves a few more inches down my throat.
He raises an eyebrow as he takes a licorice from the package in my hands. “Hey, I have a good reason.”
“What’s that?”
“Can’t tell you.”
Throwing my hands in the air, I say, “That explains everything! You’re off the hook.”
He nudges me, taking a bite of Twizzler. “Knew you’d understand.”
I give him the you-tell-me-or-you’ll-get-it look, and he laughs. “All right, I didn’t exactly have a voice.” He leans in. “Guess that nasty stuff was contagious.”
More idiot points for me. And selfish points too, because seriously, how did I not think of that? I basically used him as a tissue all night.
“Whoops.”
His arm grazes mine when he laughs. It sends sparks through my skin and goose bumps pop up on my neck. He smells like oranges, even though he hasn’t had any. I’ve got to get some of that body spray, just so I can spray it all over my stuff.
“Maybe you can make it up to me?” He leans in again, his arm now draped over my shoulders. Is he going for a kiss now? Because I think I’ll puke in his mouth from nerves. And also, I’m kinda stubborn. He shouldn’t know he’s winning this whole back and forth thing. Stay in control, Kelli!
“You come any closer and I’ll chop off a nut.”
“Talking about my balls again.” Stupid smirk . . . which is even more stupid now because I like it. “I was actually thinking of playing a game. You got any cards?”
“We’re not stripping.”
He laughs again, soaking my body in one hundred percent Moron smell, which is so yummy I almost throw out everything and smack one on him. I force myself to breathe through my mouth.
“Not stripping. Just a little wager.”
“And what’s that?” I ask, pushing him out of my bubble. Ah, that’s better. My mind can focus a bit more now.
“I win, and I get that kiss you’ve been dying to give me.”
I roll my eyes. He’s an arrogant jerk who’s right. Don’t know who I’m more upset with. Him or me.
“And if you win, well . . . I’ll leave you alone.”
My neck pops as I whip it around to look him in the face. “For real?”
He nods.
I suppose either way, I’ll win, because he’ll leave me alone once I kiss him. But as I think about it, is that what I want?
Wait . . . no thinking. Of course it’s what I want. No more of this crazy I-hate-you-even-though-you-make-me-gooey confusing stuff. Back to the norm.
“Sounds like a deal.” I lean over him again, but I’m careful not to shove the ladies in his face this time. Grabbing the deck of cards out of the drawer in the table, I move my butt to the floor and start shuffling. “What are we playing?”
“Poker.”
I shake my head. “Don’t know how to play that one.”
His eyebrows scrunch, as he moves to sit across from me, bringing the bowl of oranges with him. “Really? What about War?”
“Nope.”
“Crazy Eights?”
“Uhn-uh.”
He runs a hand over his short hair. “Please tell me you know Go Fish.”
“Yes, I know that one. But it’s been a while. How many cards do I give out?”
Sticking an orange slice in his mouth, he says, “Seven.”
I deal the cards and try to hide my shaking hands. Why am I so nervous? No one ever makes me nervous like this.
That’s it. I’m finding that voodoo doll.
He organizes his cards and already he’s got some matches down. “I hope you’re ready to pucker up.”
His voice sends a chill down my spine. Not like that bad nasty chill I’m used to either. Like, the good kind. The kind that makes my lips tingle as I look at his mouth. The kind that causes the hairs on my arm to shoot upward when his fingers brush mine as he offers the oranges. And the kind of chill that makes me do something really stupid.
I moan.
What the crap? Moaning? It’s like an involuntary spasm, and I can’t cover it up. My face fills with heat and I don’t look at him. Because I bet that cocky smirk is plastered all over his lips. The smirk that doesn’t piss me off anymore, but makes me want to run my fingers across it. Over his stubbly cheeks, around his neck, back to his short hair.
Wow, I better stop it or I’m going to moan again.
“Got any threes, Kel?”
Crap. He has to call me “Kel” and turn me into further mush. I gulp and say, “Mmmm.”
Gah! What’s with all the moaning?
He laughs. “Is that a yes?”
I quickly add a “Hmmm” so it sounds like I was saying yes. Only thing is, I don’t have any threes.
His hand stretches out between us, his blue-green eyes expectant.
Shaking my head, I try to find where the real Kelli Pinkins is, and why she left me here with this goo-goo-ga-ga replacement. “Whoops, I meant ‘Go Fish, Moron’.”
After a few more turns, I’m very
much aware I’m winning. I should be happy about that. I don’t have to kiss him. But I can’t stop thinking about losing. How it would just be part of the bet, not because I want him to kiss me. And that’s okay. I mean, deal’s a deal and all that. Still in control here.
Because I’m stupid if I think he’ll leave me alone without getting what he wants, yes?
Yes.
Maybe he’s a horrible kisser, and it’ll turn me off completely. He’ll be full of spit, and I know he’ll go for a tongue shot. Maybe the scruff on his face is really rough and itchy. That’s not attractive. That’s yucky. Yes, his kiss will be gross. He’ll cop a feel and do all that other nasty stuff I’m sure he does with other girls.
And I can finally get a move on with my life.
I start hiding my matches under my butt. And I’m making sure I’m not as discreet when I have to draw from the deck. Okay, okay, I’m being pretty darn obvious about it. He gets five matches in a row.
We’re down to the last couple cards, and he takes an orange slice from the bowl and brings it to his mouth. He makes this really loud slurping noise, which should be a total turnoff, but it’s not. The orange juice leaves this shiny and wet look on his lips and I want to kiss it off. Instead of wiping the juice with his hand, he licks it. Snakes his tongue right out there and runs it across his mouth. I hold back the moan going through my throat.
“All right,” he says, pointing to all our matches. “It’s obvious I won.”
It’s true, all the cards on the floor say he’s won, but the pile under my butt says otherwise. I don’t care though.
I sigh, pretending to be pissed about the whole thing, when actually my lips are screaming at me to close the distance ASAP.
“Guess we better get this over with.” I wave him over, close my eyes, and pucker up. My heart bounces up and down like I have a trampoline in there.
His hands settle on my cheeks. They’re hot and a tiny bit sticky with orange juice, but it’s totally okay, because it smells heavenly. I bet his breath smells just the same.
Then the air from his mouth hits me and now I’m worried I’ll be the one who’s too slobbery during this. My mouth is so pooled from the scent, from him being so close, gah . . .
His forehead touches mine, and he lets out another orange-filled breath. Can’t think, can’t concentrate at all. So yummy, so incredibly yummy my head’s going all fuzzy and I picture myself dancing in a sea of orange juice which almost makes me laugh, but doesn’t because his lips are amazingly close to mine. And I like them there.
It’s a few seconds like that. Me sucking in his scent and him just sitting there. Part of me wonders what’s taking him so long. I mean, he kisses girls all the time, right? Just give it to me, already!
“Hmm . . . ” he says, and I open my eyes.
He meets my gaze and smiles, then pulls away. What?
“I can’t do it.”
He’s still smiling, but it’s not that smirk.
“Huh?”
“I can’t kiss you, Kel. Not yet.”
Now I am pissed. Did he do this on purpose? Get me all hot for him then reject me? Ooh! What a dick!
“Seriously, Chase?” I cross my arms. “You’ve been bugging me for how long? Now I’m giving you what you asked for and you say no? What the crap?”
“That’s it. I don’t want to kiss you, unless it’s what you want.” He smiles, but it’s not a full one. Totally fake. “And if that means I have to wait, then I will.”
So, maybe he’s not a jerk. I’ve been slowly figuring that out. And he doesn’t know that I do. I want him to kiss me so bad, I even cheated so he’d . . .
He stands and heads toward the balcony. My voice comes out rushed so he doesn’t leave.
“Wait, Chase.”
I let out a breath. This is going to cost me cool points, but I don’t care. I’ve pretty much lost all of those tonight anyway. “Get your butt back over here.” I stand and grab all the cards I stashed. Totally red-faced and shy, I show him my matches.
Understanding goes across his expression. He laughs, turns toward me, and closes the distance in about a nanosecond. His lips are on mine before either of us change our minds.
Chapter 20
I slam the pint on the Poulsen’s bar and slide it to Sades. She catches it pretty flawlessly and I pull my own pint out.
“Orange Sunset Delight,” she reads, then her baby doll eyes—if you can believe it—get wider. “No! Did . . . did you?”
I thrust a spoon out and plop down on the stool next to her.
She takes it, bouncing up and down. “Was it Chase? Please tell me it was Chase!”
The heat crawls through my cheeks as I nod.
More bouncing and squealing. “O. M. G.! Tell me everything! Spill, spill, SPILL!”
It’s crazy, but I’m grinning and blushing and doing all that other girly crap and I can’t help it. If I thought kissing Chase would make all the gushy feelings go away, man was I wrong.
“I don’t even know where to start.” I sigh and pop the lid off my own Orange Sunset Delight ice cream.
“Hmm . . . how about why you bought this kind.” Her smile is going to swallow her face whole, I swear.
“Well, it was sorta sunset . . . I think. I mean, I didn’t really notice the sky or anything, but I’m pretty sure my room was like a pinkish glow.”
“Your room?!” she squeals, making me drop my spoon. “What was he doing in your room?”
“He, um, climbed up my balcony.”
She throws her head back. “How Romeo and Juliet!”
I laugh. “It’s not the first time. So, it’s no big deal.”
“Kelli. It’s a HUGE deal.”
“Do you want to hear the deets or not?”
She pulls an invisible zipper over her lips and rests her chin in her hand.
“Well, I got the orange ice cream because we were eating them right before . . . you know, the act.” Okay, so I’m terrible at the after-kiss talk. I’m pretty sure I have perma-redface.
“And it was delightful!” she says, pointing to the word “Delight” on the carton.
I can’t help it. I moan. “Yeah, it was.”
“Oh, oh, oh, tell me more please, and I swear I’ll be quiet.”
Before I dive in, I take a bite of the delish sherbet ice cream, but it has nothing on how Chase tastes.
“Sades, it was the best kiss I’ve ever had.” Yes, I admit it. Chase Moroney can kiss. He better be able to after all the practice he’s had. “It was like, everything I expected and nothing I expected.”
“What do you mean?” she asks around a mouthful of ice cream.
How do I explain this? Hmm . . .
“Well, I thought for sure he was going to give me tongue.”
“And he didn’t?”
“Nope. Stayed in his territory. But that’s what I wanted. Like he kept reading my mind the whole time. Where his hands were, what he did with them, how he moved his lips . . . ” I sigh again, because I’m that gooey ga-ga.
“What do you mean, where his hands were?” She gives me a knowing grin and I smack her knee.
“Again, it was like unexpected. I was waiting for him to cop a feel. Go for the butt, up the shirt, something like that, right? But no. His hands moved where I wanted them to. Right when I’d think, I wish his hands were on my cheeks, BAM! There they were. And then I’d think, well, this is supersweet, but I want to wrap my arms around his neck, and he’d move his hands to my waist so I could.”
“Wow.”
We sigh together, then laugh.
“And he tasted like oranges?”
I nod, smiling. If I ever kiss another soul, I’m making them down that fruit beforehand. So yummy!
“How was his scruff? I’ve never kissed a guy with a beard. Was it weird?”
A goofy grin plasters itself across my face. “Not at all. It was, like, really sexy.”
She gasps. “Did my Kelli Pinkins just say the word ‘sexy’ when referenci
ng a boy? You’re all grown up!”
I flick a spoonful of ice cream at her.
She laughs, wiping the counter off with a napkin. “So, sexy stubble, yummy taste, perfect mind reading and no weird frenching. Sounds to me like an epic romance.”
Shaking my head, I use my spoon to get ice cream to my mouth this time, instead of shooting it at Sades. “Pretty sure that’s the last I’ll see of Moron.”
For the first time since I started talking, her smile fades. “What? Why?”
Seriously? Am I the only one who can see through his bull? “Because, Sades, he was only after that kiss, and he got it. So, no reason for him to stick around. He won, bye-bye.”
There’s a prickling that comes up behind my eyes and I can’t believe I’m about to cry over it. I guess it sounds more real after saying it out loud.
“Kel, I’ve watched you two together. Especially how he looks at you. I’ve talked with him about it.” She grabs my shoulders and swings me around so I’m looking at her. “Trust me, that guy is not sticking around because of a kiss. He wants a whole lot more.”
My eyes get wide and before I can spit out the “heck no” to him getting in the skirt, she cuts me off.
“I’m not talking about physically, Kelli. I’m talking about emotionally. He wants this.” She pokes my chest, right over my heart.
And that’s when my cheesy and mushy feelings get all hard and scary. Sades is usually right about everything. I won’t tell her that of course, but still . . . maybe she’s right about this too.
I mean, he did take care of me when I was sick. He didn’t want to tell me I got him sick too, for whatever reason he had, I’m sure it had something to do with not hurting my feelings. He stuck around after I got his butt waxed. He gave me a piggyback so I wouldn’t melt my feet. And last night, he said he wouldn’t kiss me unless it was what I wanted.
Oh crap, I’m falling toes to nose deep for Moron. Is he falling for me too? Because that can not happen. I do not get close or emotionally attached to anyone. Even if Chase isn’t a client.
“Hey!” Sades perks up and jolts me out of my lovey thoughts. “Does this mean you’re done with the alibi thing?”
Huh?
“Why do you think that?”
“Because . . . you have a boyfriend now.”