A Kiss Like This (6 page)

I have some friends who go absolutely mental for a set of washboard abs, while others can’t resist straight white teeth and an infectious, toothy smile. Dimples. Then there are the girls who cannot get enough broad shoulders and rippling biceps. Or better yet, rippling biceps with tattoos.

I didn’t know, until this very moment, that I had a weakness of my own. Apparently, it’s gaps in a guy’s teeth.

Imperfectly
… perfect
.

Swoon
.

~ Caleb ~

She’s staring—staring
hard
.

At my mouth.

Shit
.

My cheeky grin falters, and without thinking, my tongue darts out of its own accord, running along the crude edges of the gap in my teeth that a hockey puck put there a few years ago. The exact moment and time I can’t recall, but I do remember this: it hurt like a motherfucker.

I watch her studying me, her face getting more flushed by the second. A bright pink rash appears from the inside collar of her pretty cream sweater, rising up her neck, past her cheeks, and all the way to her hairline.

Self-consciously, I pull my lips back down over my teeth, where they belong.

Abby slowly pulls her gaze from my mouth, our eyes meet, and for a few brief seconds, all we do is wordlessly continue to stare each other down.

Stare each other down fucking
hard
, until the cashier clears her throat.

“I-I should… I have to g-go,” Abby stutters, accidentally dropping her plastic shopping bag of tampons and gum on the ground, quickly bending to snatch it up and turning to flee, leaving a trail of muttered
Oh my gods
in her wake as she speed walks toward the exit doors.

The cashier’s eyebrows shoot up into her gray curly mop. “That didn’t go very well,” she chortles wryly, throat scratchy from too many cigarettes, as she scans my sandpaper and primer. “You better work on your flirting technique. Unless, of course, you
wanted
to scare the poor girl off.”

“Uh…”

“See there? Horrible technique. What is it with you young people? No courting anymore. It’s just wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am these days.” She shakes her head at me. “Your total is nineteen eleven.”

I pull out a twenty—careful not to pull out the gold ring mixed in with my loose change—hand it to the old bag, and stare off toward the automatic doors.

***

Abby:
What’s the most awkward thing I’ve ever done
?

Cecelia:
I’m going to need you to give me a minute. There are way too many choices
.

Abby:
Remember that time in middle school, at Kassie Bauer’s party, when I got caught on camera digging my wet swimsuit out of my crotch?

Cecelia:
So what you’re about to tell me is WORSE than pulling a suit out of your crotch AND climbing out a second story window????? I find this VERY hard to believe.

Abby:
Okay, okay, fine. Maybe not as bad as THOSE. But
picture this… Me + Wal-Mart + Caleb + One box of tampons

Cecelia: (
eyes huge
)
This is me hanging on your every word
!!!
Start talking, and don’t leave anything out. On second thought, I’m calling you. 5 minutes. ANSWER YOUR PHONE!!!!

CHAPTER 6

Abby

“…and I couldn’t even get a copy of the practice test. I mean, I was hardly ten minutes late.” Jenna, who’s sitting cross-legged next to me on our ratty old couch, finally stops talking. “Hey. Are you even listening?” She nudges me in the ribs.

“Huh?”

She rears back a little so she can look me in the face. “What’s your deal? You haven’t heard anything I’ve said in the last half hour.” She reaches over and snatches the bag of pretzels off the coffee table, grabbing a handful and chomping on one.

“Sorry, I’m just…”

But Jenna isn’t a fool, and even though I can tell she wants to say something, she stays quiet instead. It goes without saying that she’s totally addicted to those Crime Scene shows and has learned from watching them religiously that the most effective way to interrogate a perpetrator or suspect is
silence
.

Silence.

“I’m just… preoccupied.”

More silence.

“For your information, I was listening. For the most part.”

Again, she says nothing.

“Would you knock it off,” I grumble.

She cocks her head and gives me a patronizing, toothy grin with her pearly whites, the contrast against her deep burgundy lips creating a wide, Cheshire Cat-like visual as she mutely watches me.

Dang it. I fall for it every time.

“Remember that guy? The one I fell on top of when I climbed out of Tyler’s window?” I ask hesitantly.

“Oh. You mean the guy whose name you refuse to tell us?”

Undeterred and suddenly in the mood to discuss it, I ramble on. “I ran into him today at Wally World while I was buying tampons.” I shudder at this memory and then sigh when I continue. “That wasn’t the worst part. Oh, no. The worst part was when I couldn’t stop looking at him. Like, totally checking him out.” I cover my face with the palms of my hands in mortification. “My god, Jenna. I was so utterly embarrassed. He must think I’m an utter idiot.”

Utter?
Ugh
.

“Uh, Abby? Hasn’t anyone ever told you that guys
like
being checked out?” She gives me a
sometimes I wonder about you
look before chewing on another pretzel. “They totally love it. They think you’re undressing them in your mind. It’s a turn-on.”

“I was not undressing him in my mind, I swear. But I was studying him like a science fair project.”

“Jeez, you are so adorable when you get all flustered.” Jenna pats my leg.

“I’m five foot seven—that’s not adorable. Petite—
that’s
adorable.
You’re
adorable.
Puppies
are adorable. ”

“Aww, schucks, you think I’m adorable?” My roommate clutches her heart and bats her long false lashes. “You’re so sweet.”

I let out a long sigh. “So, here’s the thing; he has a
gap
in his teeth. A freaking gap. My new kryptonite.” I run my fingers through my long hair distractedly, and frown. “He seemed kind of insecure about it, but I couldn’t stop staring. Like really,
really
staring. Because it was so… endearing. But then
he
started blushing. And I was already blushing, and ugh, it was horrible.”

Jenna stops chewing. “Well, shit, a gap. And sooo much blushing.”

I ignore her sarcasm. “Yeah. So then he made a wisecrack about my tampons, I died of mortification, and I exited stage left.”

Her green eyes get wide with interest. “What kind of a wisecrack?”

“The cashier asked if I wanted a receipt, and he said I probably wouldn’t be returning them. Because, you know. Tampons.”

“That. Is.
Awesome
. I already freaking like this guy.” She stuffs another pretzel in her mouth and leans toward me. “Tell me more about this gap.”

I close my eyes to conjure up a mental picture of Caleb. I need to remember the details so I can recount them to Jenna. Details like him standing in the checkout aisle in his faded, low-slung jeans, beat-up brown construction boots, black Badgers Hockey track hoodie, and baseball hat pulled down over his forehead. The dark, day-old stubble surrounding his strong sculpted jaw, an angry scar marring the upper corner of his eyebrow.

He looked angry, awkward, and about as embarrassed as I felt.

“I only caught a peek of it. He doesn’t really seem like the sunshine-and-rainbows kind of guy.”

“There you go again with the blushing,” Jenna teases. “And you’ve barely even said anything. I hate to break it to you, but guys totally dig the blushing, virginal look, and you’ve got it in spades.” She glances down at my white cashmere sweater and boyfriend jeans, and raises her eyebrows knowingly.

“Screw you.”

“Yes!” Excited, Jenna begins bouncing on the couch cushions. “See!
Screwing
! Now that’s the spirit we’re looking for!”

She’s so obnoxious. “Remind me again why I let you live here?”

“Because I just transferred to Madison, and Molly already had a roommate, so even though all we do is argue, you were so desperate for a sublessee you had to overlook my domineering personality and our penchant for fighting?”

“Yup. That about sums it up.” I fiddle with my hands, nervously twisting the middle finger where my gold ring should be. “Shoot! Crappers!”

“What?”

“My ring. I forgot to look for it. What if I sucked it up when I vacuumed yesterday?”

“Wait. The house gets vacuumed?” She lets out a titter. “Kidding. But you
do
know that if you sucked up a ring with the vacuum, it would sound like this.” Jenna begins making loud slurping sounds, complete with
VVVvvvv
suction noises, while she bangs an empty Coke can on the coffee table. When she’s done making a spectacle, she nonchalantly asks, “Want me to help you look for it?”

“Er, no. I’ve looked everywhere. I’m sure it will turn up eventually…”

“And you can’t remember the last time you had it?”

I stare blankly at the television screen for a few seconds, zoning out, then snap my fingers. “Tyler’s!”

~ Abby ~

I don’t always go crawling around on the grass outside decrepit frat houses, but when I do, I look like a homeless person scavenging for spare change.

Down on my hands and knees, my palms swipe at the grass in between the Omega and Kappa houses, my head bent so far down at one point, my nose skims the ground. And can I just add—for the sake of details—that
grass
actually went up my nostrils, and I sneezed a few times?

Carefully, determined, and without pause, I slowly eyeball what I hope is every square inch under Tyler’s window, biting my lower lip in concentration. I look inside the basement window wells, finger through the crunchy gravel, scout under the countless dead scrubs and inside the hose wheel.

I stand.

I crawl.

I sit.

I pick up some random garbage strewn on the lawn, and only stop scrounging around like a hobo when I feel like someone watching me. Because someone
is
watching me.

I can feel it.

Raising my head, I do a quick scan of the perimeter, glancing across the street and into both side yards from my vantage point on my hands and knees.

I raise myself up on my haunches, resting my palms flat on my knees, and continue my perusal of the landscape. The super-fine baby hairs on the back of my neck tingle, causing me to shiver.

Narrowing my eyes, I give one more cautionary stare into the hedgerow before returning to my hands and knees to continue my search.

“You really shouldn’t let your guard down so soon,” Caleb’s deep voice says from somewhere above me, and I hear a wooden, hollow shuffle. “Now would be the perfect time for you to get assaulted.”

He’s standing on the porch of the Omega house, leaning against the heavy white balustrade, hands stuffed in the pockets of black Adidas track pants, shoulders slouched. The hood of his light-gray sweatshirt is up, but I can see that he’s not wearing his baseball cap.

Black
.

His hair is jet black.

“I’m not going to get assaulted, unless it’s by you. Besides, it’s broad daylight.” Self-consciously, still kneeling, I look up at him cautiously from the ground.

“See,
that’s
the kind of rationale that gets girls in trouble.” He draws the sentence out slowly, his dark eyes boring into mine.

I emit a scoff. “Do you make it a habit to creep up on people from the shadows?”

He wordlessly continues surveying me from the porch and crosses his arms.

It’s driving me crazy. Pushing myself up off the ground, I get to my feet, swipe the loose gravel off the knees of my navy leggings, and pull down the hemline of my running top so it covers my rear end.

“Why do you hardly talk?” I exclaim somewhat rudely to break the unbearable silence, propping my fisted hands on my narrow hips.

Caleb considers this and lifts one shoulder in a shrug. “I don’t know.” Pause. “Why does everything embarrass you?”

My mouth falls open. “I-I…” I stutter, but nothing more comes out. I take a deep breath and gather my thoughts, and just as I’m about to squeak out an unapologetic quip in reply, another figure emerges from under the overhang of the large covered veranda.

I close my jaw.

Just slightly shorter than Caleb but just as large, he’s wearing plaid pajama bottoms and stretching, his green tee shirt riding up and revealing a taunt, tan six-pack. He yawns, staring down at me with keen interest as I loiter in their side yard.

He’s glancing back and forth between Caleb and me, and I can tell he’s trying to assess the situation but coming up short. “Well, well, well—who are
you
?”

I give pause. “Who are
you
?”

The blonde guy laughs. “I’m Blaze. What’s a pretty little thing like you doing down in the yard? You should be up here, getting to know me better.”

How charming.

“Oh, brother,” I deadpan, rolling my eyes and crossing my arms. “Does that line usually work for you?”

“I don’t know, does it?” Blaze laughs again, his white teeth gleaming in the morning sun against a tan face. Jeez Louise, he’s really freaking cute. So much so that his flirting is actually overwhelming me.

Wow, do I suck at this.

But he’s friendlier, and more welcoming, and
safer
than gloomy Caleb, so I relax a little.

“Maybe you’re just having an off day,” I hypothesize, giving them both a shy grin before I can stop myself. “I’m sure you’ll have much better luck catching the
next
girl who wanders through the yard.”

“I sure hope so.” Blaze rubs his chin, brainstorming, then snaps his fingers. “Maybe if I cast an actual net I would catch one?”

I titter. “Excellent idea.”

Blaze folds his arms, his heavily tattooed biceps bulging. I catch him dart a sidelong glance at Caleb before giving him a hard nudge from behind with his elbow. Caleb loses his footing and staggers forward, shooting Blaze a dirty look over his shoulder and loudly mumbling, “Would you knock that shit off?”