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Authors: Melanie Marks

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CHAPTER 41

 

***BROOKE***

 
 

BROOKE

Boys
have become—obsessed.

That’s
sort of, slightly the reason I came up with my crazy deal to help Rider. I
mean, face it: It seemed the easiest way to avoid obsession was to date a
heartbreaker. I mean, no chance of him becoming obsessed, right? Fat chance of
that.

Another
huge plus was: Drew would see me with Rider—that would help him “give up”
since he had basically said he couldn’t. The dude was a high-achiever; quitting
wasn’t an option for him—usually. But he was going to have to face defeat
this time—and I figured him seeing me with Rider would help him do that.
Way easier than seeing me alone and pathetic, talking about him in my sleep and
drawing pictures of him. (Groan.) No need to give him ammo—so yeah, I’d
appear all entangled with Rider.

All
I had to worry about was keeping my heart in check through this … but at least
I could also repay Rider, since I destroyed his laptop. So, it was like two
birds with one stone—get rid of obsessed stalking boys and repay Heartbreaker
Hanson. And I really, really didn’t care if he broke Stuck-up Daisy’s heart.
Hey, more power to that.

 
 
 
 

CHAPTER 42

 

***RIDER***

 
 

RIDER

We
didn’t end up having hockey practice because our coach had to go in for an
emergency root canal or something. The man is tough—but I’m pretty sure
his wife likes his teeth. And he likes his wife, so he tries to keep her
happy—like, by keeping his teeth and stuff. Otherwise, I don’t think he
would really care about them. Or the pain. He just cares about hockey. (Well,
that’s the way it seems, but he’s a coach. They like to drill it
in—hockey, hockey, hockey.) (I’m all for that.)

Jake
looked at me all hopeful when he saw me in the locker room. “Talk to Daisy for
me?” he asked.

“I’m
working on it,” I told him.

Griffin
Piper just smiled. He says Daisy wants to work on
me
. I ignore it because I really want the tickets—and Brooke.

“So,
no hockey practice?” I ask, confirming with Griffin. He’s our team captain.

He
nods, “No hockey practice.” Then he grins, “How’s it going with Kindergarten
Girlfriend?”

I
raise my eyebrows. “It’s looking up, actually. Despite that there are lies
about me on the girls’ bathroom walls.”

Griffin
grins, “Are they lies?”

I
still. “You knew about them?”

He
shrugs, looking amused. “Ally’s a girl. She uses those rooms sometimes.”

Ally’s
a nice girl. I like her a lot. I rub my chin, more than a little perplexed. “She
let the lies stay up?”

Griffin
laughs slightly. “Again,
are
they
lies?” Then he says, “Sorry dude, Ally demands they stay. She says girls need
to know.”

“Know
what
exactly?”

His
grin quirks. “That you’re in love with your kindergarten girlfriend and have
not been able to love anyone else.”

I
thump my head against my locker. “It says all
that
on the walls?”

Griffin
shrugs, his grin twitching. “You have to read between the lines.”

“I’m
kind of pissed that there are lines at all.”

“No
you’re not. Just suck it up and get your girl.”

I
exhale. “Yes sir, Captain.”

 
 
 
 

CHAPTER 43

 

***RIDER***

 
 

RIDER

So,
yeah, hockey practice got cancelled.

When
I went back out to the parking lot, Brooke was still sitting in Nick’s car, her
head pressed against the steering wheel.

I
smiled slightly. She seemed to feel so bad about the laptop, but really I felt
all kinds of angst using the thing. It seemed the rich lady that had given it
to me had expected some sort of big (aka: sordid) thank you from me. The whole
thing left me uncomfortable.

Now
it was taken care of. Kind of like the hand of God stepping in. Or something.
Of course his sending Brooke over to do his work was very nice. I must have
done
something
right. At some point
in my life. Not necessarily the one where I accepted the laptop, but hey, it
would have been ungracious not to accept it … right? I really didn’t know. But
whatever. The object brought Brooke to me. Thank you, rich lady. Or God. Or
both. Everyone.

 
 
 
 

CHAPTER 44

 

***BROOKE***

 
 

BROOKE

I
sat in Nick’s car a long time. I mean, running over someone’s laptop didn’t
help calm my nerves or give me a boost of confidence in my driving abilities.

I
was all full of angst. It had my stomach in knots. First of all, there was …
well, you know it all. The psycho move Drew pulled, breaking into my
house—and Kenny totally stalking my entire life, and, well, all the rest.
And NOW—on top of all that—I ran over Rider’s laptop. His laptop!
And he wasn’t even mean about it. At all. In fact, he was nice.
Nice!!

I
really shouldn’t have made that deal with him—the one where I’m going to
be spending hordes of time with him, having him look into my eyes and caress my
cheek (dreamy sigh). That was so a stupid move. My mushy heart is going to get
clobbered. And I
volunteered
it.

I
thump my head on the steering wheel and moan.

“Need
a ride?”

I
jerk my head up. Then my body goes up in flames—because it’s Rider. Of course.
He would catch me like this—banging my head on a steering wheel. Grumble.

“No,
I don’t need a ride,” I mumble. “I’m waiting for Nick.”

His
grin grows. “You could just get a ride with me—start on that deal you
cooked up. In fact, I could touch your cheek right now.”

He
goes like he’s actually going to do it—touch my face. I yelp and lurch
away from him.

His
brow quirks quizzically, though he’s got a grin on his gorgeous lips that he’s
trying to hide.

I
quickly explain, “No need to do it now—save it for in public.”

He
looks around. “It’s public.” Then he adds, “Also, it seems like maybe you need
practice.”

Heat
swamps my cheeks. “Practice standing still?”

“And
letting me touch you—yeah.”

In
kindergarten he kissed my ear once. It had been after he had come over to my
house and we were painting in my backyard. His mom had arrived to pick him up, and
when my mom called out to him that his mom was here, he said, “Okay,” and he
got up to leave, but when my mom went back into the house, he turned back to me
really fast and said, “I forgot to do this,” and then he kissed me on the ear. Then
he had sauntered away, having totally rocked my kindergarten world.

It’s
funny that I’m thinking of that now.

But
I guess he is too. Because a lazy smile spreads on his lips. “I kissed your
ear.”

I
nod. “Yes. You did.”

He
laughs a little. “That’s not where I was aiming. I was nervous.” Then he says
softly, “I’ll do better this time.”

No
way. Nothing could be better than that kiss.

But
that’s not what I tell him. Instead I announce quickly, “No way, buck-o. There
will be no kissing.”

His
grin quirks upward. “Aw, come on. I need to prove to you I’ve improved since
kindergarten.”

“You
can’t. Because you didn’t.”

Geez,
why am I so snappy with him? He’s just playing around.
Chill, Brooke
.

I
duck my head. “Sorry, I’ve just had a bad week.”

“Oh
that’s right. Someone blindfolded you and kissed you.” He says it like it’s
equal to having a cup of tea. But then he asks huskily, “Did you like it?”

My
face goes up in flames.

He
arches an eyebrow. “Okay, you did. I’ll have to remember that.”

“No!
Never do that to a girl—unless you want her to press charges against you and
put you in jail.”

He
grins and juts his chin, “Is that what you’re going to do to the guy?”

When
I don’t answer, he does it for me, “No, you’re not. And I can tell by the look
on your face that it was your quarterback. I can also tell he blew it—so
that’s a bright spot for me. Almost feels as good as winning at
hopscotch—by the way, is that little poem about me off the bathroom
wall?”

I
quickly change the subject. “Touch my cheek.”

This
surprised noise comes from the back of his throat, but his rough hands come
gently on my face almost immediately.
Mmmm
.
This is not going to end well for me. Because electrical sparks skitter through
my entire body from his touch, and heated stare. Holy smokes! I’m on fire.

“Well-well,”
Daisy says coming up to us with an incredulous smirk. She huffs, “I just saw
your text from earlier, Rider, begging me to talk to you. But apparently I
should leave you two love-birds alone.”

“Okay,”
Rider murmurs all dreamy-like and soft, his love-struck eyes still glued to
mine.

Wow.

When
she’s gone, I finally let out my breath that I hadn’t even realized I was
holding. “Whoa, you’re good at that,” I tell him, stunned and amazed. (And
still on fire.)

“Thanks.”
Then he says, “Good at what?”

“Faking
love.”

“Oh,
that.” He clears his throat. “Yeah, faking.”

I’m
still trying to catch my breath, and my heart is still pounding wild just from
the memory of his spectacular touch and his warm stare, though his hands are
now in his pockets, and he seems kind of amazed at what he did with them.

He
leans towards me. “My heart’s pounding hard.” He grins, “—and that was
just from touching your cheek.” He leans even closer, “What if I’d touched your
lips?” I hold my breath, for a moment thrilled/terrified thinking he might, but
it just makes him grin. He says with a teasing gleam in his eyes, “I probably
would have died. My heart would have exploded. Is that why you have this no kissing
rule? You kill boys with your kiss?”

“Yes,
it’s my super-power.”


That
, and drawing me to you like a
magnet with your eyes,” he murmurs.

FLIRT!!

I
roll my eyes. “Dude, you didn’t even look at me in the last eight years.”

“I
looked,” he counters. But then he grins, “But you were wearing glasses. It kind
of disguised your powers. Like Superman, when he puts on his glasses and
becomes Clark Kent.”

“Yeah,”
I say dryly. “Big disguise—glasses.”

“And
you let your hair down.”

He
goes on, “And you kept smiling like you’d just been kissed.”

I
blink. “Did I?”

He
nods. “But I saw it happen. On the bus. Coach made me go to the math team meet
as punishment. It wasn’t punishment watching
you
, though—until you said quarterback’s name in your sleep.
And you made-out with him.”

My
heart slams against my chest. “I
made-out
with him?!”

Rider
breathes out a soft laugh. Then he cuts me some slack. “No. You woke up the
minute his lips went on yours—and you lurched away from him like he was
on fire.”

He
scratches his chin with a playful grin, “Of course he didn’t
die
from your kiss.” He says it
musing-like since he had speculated my kiss kills boys.

But
then his grin twitches, “However, he seemed to die a little that you lurched
away from him.”

My
heartbeat goes funny. “Did he?” I whisper.

It’s
weird talking with him like this. Learning he knows so much about me and my
life—that he witnessed the single most astounding moment in my life.

“But
he’s blindfolded you since then,” Rider says sardonically, like to remind me
not to get too mushy over the guy again.

“Right,”
I breathe.

“How’s
your friend taking all this?”

I
blink. “Laurie?”

I’m
kind of amazed to be talking to him about all this stuff. It’s kind of like
he’s Rachel—an understanding friend. It’s amazing to me that he cares.
That the heartbreaker has a heart.

But
thinking about Laurie reminds me of the conversation I had with her last night.
Of course it took place before Drew turned into a psychotic maniac and broke
into my house.

But
Laurie and I had been at her house—and we’d had a
lot
of chocolate, like enough to have us on a major sugar-high.
Sipping her hot chocolate she had said, “I’m surprised you haven’t thrown
yourself at Drew now that he’s free.”

My
stomach dropped.

She
took another sip of her hot chocolate and went on, “I know you always had a
thing for him—even back in grade school.”

My
breath caught. “Then why did you go after him if you knew I liked him?”

She
shrugged. “I knew he wouldn’t go for you. Come on, you knew it too. He never
noticed your puppy-dog eyes staring at him—or noticed you weren’t his
sister.”

I
bit my lip, then held my breath and dared ask, “Would you be mad if I went out
with him?”

She
laughed slightly. “Come on, Brooke. You’re not his type. He’s the school
quarterback, every girl at school wants him. I think we should stick with a guy
like Ethan for you—though not Ethan. I guess something weird is up with him—I
mean, that sign around him made that pretty clear. So, don’t go for him Brooke.
But someone
like
him. Someone more
your speed.”

I
swallowed, then tried again, “But say Drew
did
suddenly notice me?”

Laurie
shook her head. “I know you wouldn’t do that to me. I mean, I get that you were
probably hurt at first when Drew and I got together, but you
helped
us get together. I know you’re my
one true friend—my
only
true
friend, probably. And I know you wouldn’t be like my other so-called friends
and try to date Drew. It’s different to go after a girl’s hopeless crush than
an actual ex-boyfriend. Sabrina and Jade don’t get that—obviously. But I know
you do.”

The
memory of that conversation makes me squirm a little.

Rider
glances at a text he just got, then pulls me out of my uncomfortable reverie by
slowly waving a hand in front of my face.

I
blink up at him.

A
tiny smile spreads on his lips like I’m adorable. His eyes practically caress
me. (Flirt!) “You looked like you needed to be woke up,” he says playfully.
“Like what you were dreaming about wasn’t the nicest—not your usual
lollipops and rainbows.”

“No,
it wasn’t,” I murmur.

“So
you’re welcome,” he says.

He
gives me a lingering look that I can’t read, then says, “Look, I have to
referee at my little brother’s soccer game right now. Come with me. I’ll touch
your cheek during the water breaks.”

He
grins, quickly interrupting me before I can protest, “—the soccer games
are very, incredibly, super public. In fact, Daisy’s little brother plays on
one of the teams. Maybe the one my brother’s playing against today.”

Before
I can protest he raises his eyebrows, quickly reminding me, “My laptop is in
pieces—just like my heart will be if you say no.”

I
groan, super dramatically.

He
grins, “Yeah, that’s a cheesy line. I was just trying to lay some guilt on you
to get my way. But in all seriousness, don’t worry about the laptop,” then he
adds with a playful grin, “—just worry about my heart.”

I
groan again.

It
just makes him laugh softly. “So you’ll come right? Get me started on my big non-heartbreaker
ruse.” Then he adds, “What will really help with that—I think—is
getting the poem about me off the bathroom walls.”

I
smirk. “You don’t really care about the poem.”

He
raises his eyebrows, “I don’t?” Then he relents, “Okay, I don’t. I won’t
mention it again, if—
IF
you
come with me to my little brother’s soccer game and let me touch your
cheek—twice.”

“I’ll
go to the game, but no touching.”

He
ducks his head, rubbing the back of his neck. “Man, you’re a cold hard
bargainer.”

He’s
only teasing. His grin always gives it away, though he’s always trying to hide
it.

“Okay,”
he says after a long moment as though he’s being tortured—by not getting
to touch my cheek. “You have a sad little deal.”

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