Cali Boys (3 page)

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Authors: Kelli London

BOOK: Cali Boys
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Jacobi just stared at him, taking him in one blink at a time. He was almost as tall as Diggs. Over six-one, he had short, rich caramel-brown hair. It was cut close, but not too short to hide his God-given curls. In fact, up close, Malone was so perfectly breathtaking that she couldn't say anything. Nothing. Not even one word would come out of her mouth. She just knew he looked better than any of the girls surrounding him, and that upped her crush that bordered on stalking. Their bathroom window faced his, and there were times she couldn't help but watch him. He'd primp like a girl, but, from a distance, she noted, there was nothing feminine about him. He had a routine she liked to follow. First, she'd watch him do shirtless push-ups in his bedroom, then her eyes followed him to the dresser mirror, where she'd admire him fixing his hair. After that, she'd daydream about them being a couple as she watched him change clothes, while feelings moved through her body that she didn't understand. Then he'd leave his room, and, like a feign, she'd run to the living room window to drool at him as he backed out of the driveway in one of his parents' cars. No, she wouldn't be watching him anymore because she was crushing on him. She'd keep an eye on him to see if he was filmable. Boys just weren't supposed to be delicious. Cute—like Shooby—was good. Over-the-top fine like Malone was a killer to a girl's ego. He just looked like he'd want nothing to do with someone who looked like her.
Alissa elbowed her in the ribs and cleared her throat.
“Yes. Yes. I'm Jacobi,” she managed to say, then flashed Alissa a thank-you smile.
Malone nodded. “Cool. I thought so. Can you take my number and give it to your brother, and tell Diggs to hit me later?”
Sure she would take his number, and him, too, if she wasn't with Shooby. Well, she wasn't Shooby's girl yet. And
yet
was the operative word.
“
Diggs?
Diggs is
your
brother?” Yummy asked, her eyes now wide and interested. “I didn't know you were Diggs's sister. You should've said so. That changes everything.”
Jacobi threw Yummy a nasty sideways look and dismissed her with an eye roll. She reached into her purse to get her phone, but couldn't find it. She grimaced. How could she have come out of the house without it? Not when she needed it most, and definitely not when she'd relied on it to hear from Shooby and their flash-mob updates. “I must've left my cell at home. Sorry.”
Malone smiled. “No problem. I do it all the time. But if you don't mind—” He patted his front pockets, then retrieved his wallet from the back one. He fished out a business card and handed it to Jacobi. “I don't normally give these out, but I really need to talk to Diggs. You'd really be doing me a huge favor if you give that to him.”
“There's something I'd like to give him, too,” Yummy said.
Jacobi shot the girl a glare, then turned back to Malone and smiled. “I'll give it to him later. He's not at home.”
“Thanks,” he said, winking. “Are you going to the motorcycle show?”
“Yes,” Jacobi and Alissa said in unison.
“I want to see what I can capture on film ... well, digitally,” she admitted, then wanted to kick herself for allowing her enthusiasm to rise. She was such a nerd, and it showed.
He shot a weird look at Alissa, then pressed his lips together like he was trying to decide something. He shrugged, turned back to Jacobi, and smiled. “Cool. Real cool. I like that you're so passionate. Anyway, I'm headed to the motorcycle show, too, so we can go together,” he offered, surprising everyone. “And I guess”—he nodded toward Alissa—“you can come, too.”
4
KASSIDY
T
here was no way she was going to deal with the mess. Not Los Angeles. Not her new neighborhood. Definitely not her new evil stepsister. “Uh-uh, no way,” Kassidy said, slamming the screen door behind her and adjusting the sunglasses she religiously wore while in the sun. She jogged down the few porch steps and bent over to tighten her laces. She needed to get in the wind to stay fit and clear her mind. She had no idea how she was going to adjust to the move, and had to figure a way out. Literally. She could call her dad, but he was across the ocean conducting business in China, and her grandmother lived back in New York in a one-bedroom condo in a senior building. So for either of them to save her was out of the question. But she was sure there had to be a way. She was going to get back to the city that never slept and her boyfriend, Brent. She'd been trying to contact him since last night, but for some reason his phone had been disconnected. She'd tried again this morning, nine times, and still no success. Desperate, she'd texted his address to Faith, offering to pay her to go see him, and, hopefully, by now she'd contacted him. Until she heard back, she had to find a way to not think about him. Her only tried and true solution was connecting her feet with the concrete for as long and fast as she could run.
“Hey, beautiful,” a male voice greeted from behind.
Kassidy rolled her eyes.
Ugh
. It would be like a boy to catcall her while she was bent over. All they ever thought about was getting an eyeful, and she would know; she'd dealt with boys peeking behind the drawn curtains at runway shows while she and the other models dressed.
“Whoever you are, what do you want?” she asked, still tightening her laces.
“Just thought I'd welcome you to the neighborhood,” he said. “Because you have to be new here. If you weren't, I'd know. I'd never forget a pretty face like yours.”
“You can't even see my face. So try again,” she said, standing up and turning to look at him. What her eyes saw was pretty tempting and definitely worth her time, but a little young for her taste. He stood straddling a large silver moped and wearing a smile. His skin was sun kissed, and his wavy hair gleamed like shiny wax. She nodded. If he wasn't good for anything else, he could prove to be the distraction she needed while missing Brent and her life in Manhattan, she decided. The fact that he had wheels—even if only two of them—was a definite plus, though she knew her hair would get messed up. “Next time you want to get a girl's attention”—she took off her shades and looked him in the eyes—“talk to her face, not her butt,” she deadpanned.
His smile widened. “The view was great, so I couldn't help it. But I apologize. I'm Romero.”
“Okay, for the apology,” she teased, flirting. “I'm Kassidy,” she said, standing tall. The run could wait, and so could saving her hairdo. Right now she needed to go, zoom away, find something to do until Faith gave her a heads-up on Brent's happenings and whereabouts, and literally let it all blow in the wind—her hair and her attitude. “And if you're really sorry, you could take me somewhere. Anywhere.”
Romero nodded, gripped the hand brakes, and revved the moped's motor a bit. “Okay, take the helmet off the back and hop on. You are new around here, right? How old are you?”
Kassidy had the helmet on her head and her sunglasses back on before she knew it. “Right, I'm new. I'm fifteen. You?” she asked, hopping on behind him. Wrapping her arms around his waist, she held on, ready to ride.
“Fifteen, too. That's why I'm whipping a moped. Gotta be sixteen for a real motorcycle.” He laughed. “I would ask you where you want to go, but since you're new around here, you don't know,” he said, looking over his shoulder.
“But I do know where I want to go.” Kassidy smiled, then purposely bit her lip. She'd read somewhere that the move was flirtatious and guys found it attractive, so she did it, and it worked. “I want you to take me everywhere.”
“Cool. But what will your boyfriend say?” he asked, clearly wanting to know if she had one.
Kassidy smirked, tightening the chinstrap on the helmet. She winked. “Probably the same thing your girlfriend will say. So, are we going to ride, or talk about things like boyfriends and girlfriends—people who aren't really a part of this conversation? I didn't ask if you had one, so I obviously don't care. You don't really care if I have a boyfriend, either. If so, you'd have asked before inviting me out.”
 
The intersection of North La Brea and Centinela Avenues boasted three things Kassidy needed: drink, food, and boys, in that order. The high-end coffee shop they were parked in front of was known for its many caffeine specialties, but also served her favorite, green tea. Her eyes flashed across the parking lot, to the right. There stood a T.G.I. Friday's, and it was super busy, reminding her she hadn't eaten all day. She smiled, her day getting better by the glance. A group of guys on real motorcycles were gathered in front of it.
Romero killed the engine and hopped off the moped. “You coming?” he asked, holding out his hand to help her off.
Kassidy forced her attention away from the gathering of boys and smiled at Romero. “No, I think I'll just stay out here, if you don't mind. I'll keep your seat warm ... and maybe stretch my legs,” she said, taking out her phone to check if Faith had texted yet.
He nodded. “No problem. It can get a little tight riding on the back. What do you want to drink? There are like a million types of coffee in there.”
“I like tea. And since you talked to me, I'm sure you have good taste.” She winked. “Surprise me.”
Before the coffee shop door closed behind Romero, Kassidy was up and off the moped and headed toward the restaurant. Even in running gear, she knew she looked great. She wasn't catwalk ready, but being a model had given her an air of superiority and a confidence many didn't have, and she used hers to her advantage. Every day. Being confident was one of her strong points, and was the thing that had snagged Brent's attention, making him choose her over other girls. Being a male model himself, he'd had a lot of claws digging into him, but hers had been the sharpest, and she'd pulled him in without a problem. And today, she noted, sashaying as she walked, there wouldn't be any problems getting California dudes, either. All eyes were on her when she passed the group of guys. She slyly eyed them back. She didn't want to waste her time by talking to the first one who spoke; she needed to shop and scope out one worthy of her attention.
“Hello,” she said, nodding and scanning the group as she walked by. Happily, she'd noticed one or two out of the bunch who were cute, but she still wasn't quite sure who would be worthy. Whoever he was had to be a leader, superfine, and the one everyone else in the group wanted to imitate. She knew she had to give it another shot. All she needed was one more look to know.
She stopped and patted her pockets when she was a few yards away from them. She shook her head and huffed loud enough for them to hear.
“You okay? Lose something?” one of them asked, taking her bait.
Kassidy turned around and walked toward the guys. Carefully, she scanned their faces, and, sure enough, there were two extracute ones. But gorgeous wasn't enough. She needed to know who had the swagger to match his looks.
One of the supercute guys hopped off his motorcycle, then strode to her. The others followed. Kassidy nodded. He had to be the one because he was definitely the leader, and he was definitely gorgeous.
“You okay? Lose something? 'Cause I can help you find it ... if you like.”
Kassidy consumed him with a blink of her eye. She was a pro at the quick sweep—glancing fast, but still seeing if a boy was cute. And that he was. “My key ring. There's only one key on it, so it could've dropped without my noticing. It has my name on it—Kassidy, with a
K
. So you can't miss it or mistake it,” she said, offering him her name on the sly.
He nodded and smiled, showing off deep dimples and a cleft chin. He wore braids, usually a no-no for her, but they looked good on him. “Okay, Ms. New York, Kassidy with a
K
. I'm Carsen, with a
C
. I recognize your accent. It's cute like you.” He licked his lips. “Let's go find your key.” He offered Kassidy his hand and led the way, backtracking the way she'd walked. “Hey, help me find Ms. New York's key,” he said to the guys.
Like clockwork all eyes were on the ground, and Kassidy stood to the side while Carsen's flunkies did the work. Her eyes bounced between the coffee shop, looking for Romero, and Carsen. She didn't know how she was going to pull off juggling both guys, but she would. Of that she was certain. There was no way she was giving up on either of her new options.
“So, Kassidy? I seen you ride up with someone else—but I'm not worried about him, though. I'm not a hater, I'm a participator. So you think I can call you?”
She really smiled then. Carsen was just what she needed. A boy who knew how to play her game. She waved her hand. “Stop it! I'm so not his girlfriend. If I was, I wouldn't be talking to you. That's just my boy. He gave me a ride ... we're looking for my stepsister—his
girlfriend
. So, it's cool. And yes, you can call me, maybe even take me out later. Lock in my number.”
She rattled off her digits while he entered them into his phone, then gave him her phone so he could enter his number. Then she somehow managed to “accidentally” locate her key in her pocket. With apologies for wasting Carsen's and his friends' time, she headed back to the coffee shop to meet Romero just as he was coming outside.
“Aw, thank you,” she said when she saw the large cups he carried. “I just know you picked my fave. Let's drink up so we can roll out. I can't wait to see the rest of Los Angeles!” She took her seat on the back of the moped.
Romero handed her a cold cup, then rubbed his hand over his hair. He smiled. “I had them ice your tea. It's too hot for hot tea. And Los Angeles is pretty big. Seeing it all can take days, weeks even.”
Her phone vibrated, and she looked at it. Again, it was an unknown caller. Kassidy ignored the call, then cheesed at Romero. Thanks to her mom moving them to LA, she had time. She had days and weeks; months, too. That is, if she couldn't get back to New York and Brent. Until then, she couldn't think of a better way to make the transition easier and more fun than to have a boy or two help her out. “If you have time, I certainly do. My days are free,” she offered.
Because my nights will be spent with Carsen or whoever the next lucky contestant is
, she thought.

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