Love Me (29 page)

And then a few minutes later.

Dawson:  Naked.

Oh, lord. 

We’ll have some fun and then I’ll tell him that we can get back together. Change that stupid
It’s complicated
status
.

I snatch the review sheet out of Dallas’ hand. “Okay, so, I gotta go.”

I run down the hall and take the stairs. I’m halfway down when Aiden comes marching up. 

I freeze. 

I can’t go anywhere. There’s nowhere to hide. 

So I think,
Be confident.
I’m cool, confident, and sophisticated. I’m on my way down these stairs to meet a gorgeous boy who is probably—well, definitely—waiting for me naked. He wants me. He doesn’t tell me I’m dumb. He thinks I’m awesome. I straighten up my spine, stand tall, and wait for him to notice me.

He’s marching with his head down, like he’s still pissed. He sees my feet in front of him, specifically my bright yellow boots, stops, and glares at me. 

Told ya. Still mad.

I give him my best fake smile and say coolly, “Hey, Aiden, s’up?” 

Ohmigawd, that sounded so lame. Who says that to someone walking
up
the stairs?
What’s up?
He is heading
up
the stairs, obviously. I’m a lunatic. Seriously, lock me up now. He’s right. I
am
dumb.

“Where are you going?” 

“I was just helping Dallas and Riley with English and now I’m headed to Dawson’s room.” Then I can’t help myself. I snicker. “Apparently, he’s naked.” 

Aiden grabs my arm and drags me again—this time up the stairs and to his room. “This is why you’re dumb!”

“I am
not
dumb!” 

He opens his door, grips my hand tightly, pulls me through it, and slams it shut hard. 

I watch as his eyes quickly scan the room. He picks me up and sets me down hard on his desk, sending his perfectly stacked books onto the floor in the process. 

Then his lips land hard on mine, kissing me. 

It’s a full hot-tongue-straight-into-my-mouth kiss.

He grabs my tongue and sucks on it. 

His hands are firmly behind my neck, like I’m not allowed to pull away from this kiss.

Not that I want to.

It's hot.

No. 

It's not hot.

It's incendiary. Like the white-hot blazes of the underworld. 

Or the electrical charge of a lightning bolt.

A god’s full power has been unleashed on me.

His tongue is destroying my mouth. Devastating it.

He’s owning it like no boy ever has. 

He untangles his tongue from mine and says, “You’re dumb because you can’t see that I’m so fucking jealous, I can barely function. So I’m gonna ask you one last time. Will. You. Wear. My. Jersey?”

I want to cry. 

“Ye—” I don’t even get the word out before his mouth is back on mine.

I want to go on record and thank Zeus and Aphrodite and whoever else had a hand in making this boy’s skillful tongue. 

I run my hands roughly down his chiseled back and grab his equally amazing ass, pulling it toward me. 

He leans his chest tightly into mine and I wrap my legs around his waist. 

In this position, I can feel that powerful godly tool straining for freedom under his pants. 

Oh, that sounds like a romance novel. I like romance novels, but his godly tool should not be how I describe his boyhood. 

No. Manhood. That thing throbbing against me is
all
man. 

No, it’s all freaking god.

His tongue goes so deeply in my mouth that I’m pushed roughly down across his desk, causing me to almost scream,
Unleash the Titan!
 

Oh. My. God.

This is it!

He’s going to rip my panties off and we’ll do it right here.

Hell, I don't think my panties are even an issue. 

I’m pretty sure they melted clean off my body and are nothing but a little pile of ashes smoldering on the floor.

But he doesn’t. Instead, he stops kissing me.

I open my eyes. His face is just inches from mine. His eyes are closed and he seems to be trying to slow his breathing. Calming himself down.

But no!

I want him wild and out of control. I want this crazy god’s tongue. The tongue I just barely got a taste of. The tongue that I’m already famished for. 

He slowly backs further away and opens his eyes. 

“God, you make me crazy.”

“At least now I know that you like me as more than a friend.”

“When have I
ever
given you a friend vibe?”

“Um, when you said you wanted to be my friend after the stars.”

“I do want to be your friend, Boots. I want to be your everything.”

“Everything? Then why did you just stop?” 

“Because we have to stop.”

I let my hands dance across the edge of his shorts. “What if I don’t want to?”

He takes my hands off his shorts and places them in my lap. 

“The last thing you need is to rush into sex with another guy.”

The way he says it makes me scowl at him. 

He doesn’t have a clue what I need because if he did I’d be naked on this desk. No, not even naked. Pants half down. Skirt pushed up. Hammering, nailing, and screwing.

He kisses my forehead and says, “Stop with the face.”

“You kissed me with your tongue.”

I get the god-like smile. “Was it worth the wait? “

“I’m not sure. Can I check again?”

He picks me up off his desk, lays me across his bed, and kisses me some more.

With his tongue.

Always goes back to sex.

10:30pm

I squeak into the dorm just at curfew, plop onto my bed, and look at my phone.

Dawson:  Are you coming?

Me:  No, sorry. I ran into Aiden on the stairs. It’s a long story, shit. Look, I’m gonna wear his jersey for the game. I’m his date for the banquet, so I think it’s the right thing to do. Don’t be mad at me.

Dawson:  Naw, it’s cool. Brooke asked me today if she could wear mine. She has a college boyfriend, so I’ll just tell her yes.

Me:  Oh, that works out good then.

I lie in bed, thinking about coin flipping and evil, while creeping around on Facebook. I pray that Aiden never does one of those things where it tells him who his top followers are. I’ve totally been stalking his profile since school started. 

My phone buzzes. 

I drop it, feeling like I’ve been caught, when Aiden’s name pops up on the screen.

“Hey,” I say, my voice lowered, so I don’t wake up Katie.

“Hey, Boots,” he says dreamily.

I swear I want to wake up to that every morning of my life. To the sound of, “Hey, Boots.”

“I figured you’d be asleep by now,” I say.

“I should be. I was lying here thinking about tonight.”

“Really? What about?”

“Just trying to figure out what to do with you.”

“What do you want to do with me?” I ask coyly, thinking he will tell me something sexual. Especially after the hotness on his desk earlier.

“Tell me more about the framework.”

 I think about his framework. His tall, lean body. His perfect muscles. His beautiful skin.

“You still there?”

“Oh, uh, yeah. I just think it would help if you tell me how you’re feeling about stuff.”

“I’ve been trying not pressure you. You once told me something about the Keats guy. That you didn’t know if he loved you so much he let you go, or he let you go because he didn’t care enough. I want you to know with me. I want you to know exactly where we stand. 

“Tonight, when you were mad, I felt like I finally knew.”

“All the wooing I’ve done, and you didn’t already know?”

“No. You’re hot and cold with me. That’s confusing.”

“And you’re like an unsolvable puzzle. A conundrum.”

“I confuse you? Do you wanna know what I was sitting in my bed doing when you called me?”

“Is it bad?”

“A little.”

“Tell me.”

“I was looking at all your Facebook pictures. I look at them almost every night. I hide under my covers, so Katie doesn’t know what I’m doing.”

“I look at your pictures all the time too. You aren’t big on posting stuff, though. I thought I could find out what you were doing, what you are thinking, but you don’t give away much.”

“I’m kind of a private person.”

“I like that.” He yawns. 

“You sound tired.”

“I am. I’m looking forward to this weekend.”

“Do you wanna know what I’m looking forward to?”

“Yes.”

“Your tongue.”

He laughs. It’s a sexy, deep laugh. The kind of laugh I want to hear every day.

“It was a good kiss.”

“Yeah, it was.”

 “Night, Boots.”

Getting head.

1am

I call Dallas. “I can’t sleep. You and Riley wanna go to the Cave?”

“Riley snuck out to meet Ariela. Lucky for you, I’m free tonight.”

As we’re walking to the Cave, I ask, “I haven’t heard much about the psychic panty hotline lately. You still stalking girls’ panties?” 

“More like taking them off. No, melting them off.”

“I’m pretty sure that my panties melted off me tonight. Aiden got pissed off, pushed me onto his desk, and kissed me. Tongue and everything.”

“It’s about time.”

He folds a towel into a long strip and puts it down on the damp log, lights up a joint, takes a hit, and hands it to me.

“So, does that mean you’re choosing him?”

I take a hit. Let myself mellow. “Wanna hear something really lame?”

“Of course.”

“Yesterday, I was so desperate that I flipped a coin to decide.”

“Oh, I know a good pickup line about that.” 

“Really, what?”

He giggles at himself then says, “If I flip a coin, what are the chances of me getting head?”

“That’s really funny.” I start giggling and can’t stop.

“So, back to choosing.”

“Buzzkill.”

“So why was he pissed?”

“He told me I couldn’t wear Dawson’s jersey if I was gonna be his date.”

“Good for him. It’s about time he put an end to this nonsense.”

“And then he kissed me with his tongue,” I say dreamily.

“So Aiden’s tongue kiss beat what Dawson did to you this weekend?”

“Yeah.”

“I think I’m still hung over.”

“Dawson told me that when I feel like stopping, that’s how I’ll know I should.”

“And what do you feel like?”

“I feel like stopping.”

Thursday, November 3rd

A noble profession.

Drama

Right after drama class is finished, my teacher pulls me aside. 

“Keatyn, I don’t know if you’ve heard about this yet, but there’s a nationwide search going on for an Abby Johnston look-alike to star in a remake of one of her movies. I just got this letter about it today. Looks like this producer, Vincent Sharpe, is sending them to drama departments all over the country.”

Holy shit. 

He continues. “I was thinking of nominating you. You have the look and you’re quite talented. A natural, really.”

Maintain your breathing, Keatyn. 

Don't show him that you are internally freaking the fuck out.

“Um, I’d prefer that you didn’t. I’m not ready yet.”

“Actually, I think you are ready. You're one of my most talented students.”

This temporarily stops me from freaking out. 

“Really?” He thinks I’m talented? Ohmigawd, that’s so awesome.

“Yes. Have you ever thought of making a career out of acting?”

Don't say yes. Have a worthy profession in mind. A doctor. Like you told Dawson’s mom.

“No, sir, I want to be a doctor. Like, a pediatric doctor. Um, probably specializing in children's cancer. I want to save lives.”

“Oh, well, that's a noble profession.”

“Yes, sir, and it's my dream. I had a, um, cousin who died from it. His passing affected me deeply. I want to devote my life to the cause. But acting is a fun creative outlet. I also love ceramics and painting.”

Ohmigawd, I am such a liar! 

“Okay, well, then we probably won't be needing this, huh?” 

“No, sir. Definitely not.”

He wads it into a ball and tosses it into the trash then goes over to deal with something on stage. 

I wait until he's not looking then pretend to put my gum in the trash but, instead, I grab the letter and stuff it into my bag. 

I run out of the auditorium. Straight to Cooper’s office.

I barge through his door, flushed from running. Whitney’s leaning over his shoulder, pointing to a paper on his desk.

I must have a wild-eyed expression because Cooper says to her, “Miss Clarke, I’m afraid I’m going to have to cut our meeting short. I think we covered most everything anyway.” He quickly escorts her to the door.

After he shuts the door, he holds a finger up to his lips, telling me to keep quiet. 

He opens his door back up and totally busts Whitney for still standing there.

“Come with me, Keatyn,” he says, holding his hand out to me. “Let’s get you to the nurse.”

Cooper and I walk up the hill to the nurse’s office, but don’t go in the door. Instead, he pulls me behind the building.

“What’s wrong?”

I fish the paper out of my bag and show him.

“It’s addressed to the drama department.”

“Yes, they were sent to high school drama departments nationwide.”

“This guy is really smart.”

“I know. He’s brilliant. The director pulled me aside and said he was going to nominate me.”

Cooper’s body quickly goes from relaxed to rigid and ready to strike. “Did he?”

“No. He asked me if I was interested.”

“What did you say?!”

“Lied. Told him some bullshit story about a cousin dying and how I wanted to be a pediatrician not an actor. That I’m not interested.”