Switched: Flirt New Adult Romance (8 page)

The cookie hits my taste buds, and I wish there was a smooth way of spitting it back out. But Mrs. Gregory stares at me as if I may burst into a million pieces if she looks away. Her eyebrows are all pushed together, waiting, waiting, waiting for my assessment of her chocolate chip pumpkin cookies. I force myself to swallow.

“Super yummy!” I say a little too loudly. “Can I get the recipe? I’m going to force my dad to make these for my family.”

Relief washes over her face, and she waves her hand through the air. “Oh please. It’s the basic one they put on the pumpkin mix.” She turns and shoves a bunch of the burnt lovelies into a Ziploc. I break off a large chunk of the cookie in my hand and jam it in my coat pocket. Talon grunts his laughter before sticking his cookie in my pocket too. I feel like nudging him in the arm, or touching him somehow, but again, it seems too brotherly-sisterly.

Mrs. Gregory shakes the bag and zips it up before handing it to me. “Take these home. I’m sure your genius cook of a father will be able to figure out the recipe from one taste.”

Talon has to choke back another burst of laughter, and this time I do get the guts to kick him in the foot. But it’s so light, I bet he didn’t even feel it. Oh great. What if he thinks I’m trying to play footsie?

“ ’Kay, Mom. Kayla does have her own house to visit while she’s here.”

She waves Talon off, but her cheeks grow a little pink. It sort of matches the color Talon becomes whenever he gets flushed. Which happened like once ever, and it was the sexiest thing known on this planet.

“Say hi to your parents for me.”

I nod and thank her for the cookies, then let Talon help me into my coat. Isn’t he a gentleman? I’m not even his girlfriend and he treats me like the queen of the world. I fall a little bit more in love with him.

“What are you up to tomorrow?” he asks. The muscles in his arms flex when he crosses them and leans against the door frame. I furiously wipe my chin because if I drool, it’ll freeze there and trap me in my embarrassment for all eternity.

“Nothing,” I say honestly. “Did you want to do something?”

I send mind waves to him again.
Say yes, say yes, say yes!

“Sure. It’s supposed to be sunny and not as cold. You want to practice your spiral?”

A chance to see his hot butt jog away from me, for him to hold my hand against the thread thingies on the ball, and perhaps talk about something else other than cheese pizza? I almost say,
Hell yes!
but I keep my cool (ha!) and say, “Sounds good.”

He walks me to my car and I’m a hot mess because it sort of feels like we just had a date and he asked me out for another one. I’m in fantasyland, yes. And I’m going to stay here for a while till reality smacks me in the face.

His face gets ultra close when he opens the door for me. “Thanks for the ride. You saved me probably around a thousand bucks on the gas alone.”

“I would’ve saved you more if you’d let me pay for all of it.”

“What kind of friend does that?”

We pause, and then I say “Reagan” while he says “Wesley,” and we laugh. It’s probably epic moment number 327 for us.

“I’ll call you tomorrow.” He smiles, and I try so hard not to sigh, but damn it, I do anyway. “Oh, and Kayla?”

I sigh again. Grr … “Hmm?”

“Thanks for eating that shit.” He points at the bag of cookies. “Reagan would’ve spit that all over the floor, and I know you made my mom’s day. As pansy-ass as it sounds, it means a lot.”

I say something. I think it was like “uh-huh” or “yup” or something equally stupid. But at least he smiles again before shutting the door and jogging back up to the house. I ogle that butt until it disappears.

I vow to eat crappy food for the rest of my life if it means I get to experience another moment like that.

Progress Report: December 18

I have the weekend before Reagan and Wesley come home. One weekend to get Talon to see me.

Here’s what I’m thinking …

I stayed up all night working on my football terms. I also looked up sports movies on Netflix and set them on my “previously watched” and “recommended for you” bars so that when it lights up, he’ll know how into this I am. I stocked up on water, since Talon drinks nothing but water. I swear he’s a camel. And I have the cutest PJs in the history of sleepwear. He’s coming over in like an hour and I’m going to pretend I just got out of bed. Yes, I look like a supermodel even right after sleep!

Okay, maybe not a supermodel, but I’m undereye-circle free and smell like roses.

Today will be our day for love!

(Since he seems to totally know what he’s doing.)

I wipe my webcam free of smudges before pressing the call button on Skype. Reagan pops on the screen, looking like she stayed up all night. A giant coffee cup is in her hand, and her hair is hanging from a loose ponytail, fraying all around her face. The makeup she wore yesterday is smeared on her eyelids, which are barely open enough to watch me.

“Morning, sunshine.”

“Ughnnnn,” she whines, then takes a sip of her coffee. “Do you know what time it is?”

“Like eleven.” I laugh, checking the clock on my laptop, which says 10:49. “What were you and Wesley doing last night?”

“Studying our brains out.” She yawns, then wipes goobers from her eyes. “He’s still asleep.”

I turn my head to the side. “How do you know?”

“Because he’s in your bed.”

“What?”

“Shh …” She covers her ears like I was standing next to her and not sitting a few hundred miles away. “Too early.”

Like she’s one to talk. She’s always the one to wake me up with cheesy love songs and pillow fights. I lower my voice. “What is he doing in my bed?”

She rolls her eyes and gulps more coffee. “Oh, you know, we totally went at it last night and I didn’t want to ruin my sheets, so we used yours. I rocked his world so bad he zonked out and hasn’t recovered yet.”

If I wasn’t trying to get those two together I would’ve let out an “ew” followed by a display of my gag reflex. Instead I say, “I knew you two were sneaking around.”

She blows a raspberry at me. “We were studying, you doof. I didn’t want him to get caught by Bitchy Brenda, so I let him crash here. I promise he didn’t wet the bed.”

I wrinkle my nose, biting back how it won’t matter if he didn’t pee his pants—my sheets will still smell all Wesleyfied when I get back. Not that he smells bad, but it’s not exactly what I want hanging around in my nostrils right before I go to sleep. I heard somewhere you can have
crazy sex dreams depending on what memories are triggered by the scents you inhale while you sleep.

“Anyway, are you and Talon doing anything today?” Reagan asks, scratching her hair and pulling more strands out of the ponytail.

I shrug. “Yeah. He’s supposed to be here in a bit. More football lessons.”

Reagan guffaws, spraying her keyboard with coffee. She wipes it off with her sleeve. “I love you, girl. But after a year, I’m pretty sure your throwing arm is a lost cause.”

“It’s fun. I don’t mind.”

“Mmm-hmm.” She smiles and I get all panicky for a second. She’s acting like she totally knows I only play football with Talon because I’m in love with him. Then she chucks her empty coffee cup offscreen. “Wake up, loser! Kayla’s online. Come say hi.”

I hear Wesley groan, and I rake my fingers through my hair, which is totally pointless because my curls don’t do anything but misbehave, but it’s as if I’m on autopilot. So stupid. I don’t need to look good for Wesley.

The doorbell rings and Mom calls up the stairs letting me know Talon is here. Ah … my instincts must’ve known he was right at my door, and that’s why I got all paranoid about making my hair look good.

“Send him up!” I yell.

Reagan squeals. “Is Talon there?”

My heart kind of falls into a sinkhole in my chest and I nod. They’re going to make kissy faces at each other and Talon’s going to get my screen all gross. But then again, if he kisses my computer, I think I’ll be okay with that.

Wesley pops his sleepy head in view of the camera just as Talon taps on my door and lets himself in my room. I’m suddenly wishing Talon had slept in my bed just for the dreams I could’ve had. He smells like peaches and chili powder. Weird combo but heavenly at the same time. He leans over me to rest his hands on the desk, smiling his gorgeous grin at our two buds through the screen.

I bite back that uncontrollable sigh, and I swear I see Wesley nod in approval. Wish I could fist-bump him because I’m pretty proud of myself too.

But there’s no way I can turn my head to look at Talon’s super-close and super-hot face. I could kiss the upturned corner of his lip and totally throw away the plan Wesley and I cooked up. And I can’t hurt Reagan like that, or make Talon so uncomfortable he’ll never want to be around me again.

“Awww, look who’s barely getting out of bed and still looks like the most beautiful person on earth,” Talon teases. Reagan has this sort of pink blush going through her cheeks, and I don’t blame her. I’d turn into mulch if Talon spoke to me like that.

Wesley laughs and hugs the camera, blocking Reagan from view. “Shucks, man. You have me all weepy now.”

Reagan punches his arm and he falls to the floor, pretending she knocked him out.

“Abuse!” he yells offscreen.

“Get up, you big baby.” Reagan’s laughing, and Talon’s laughing, and I’m laughing and really loving Wesley right now for being the comedic relief so I don’t lose it watching the cheesy love-fest.

“So, when is your final, babe?” Talon asks when Wesley pops back in view.

“Two hours. Wes and I are gonna cram. Then it’s mic night!”

Wesley leans over and says something to Reagan in her ear that makes her do this really girly giggle and shove him. Talon’s fist tightens on the desk, but other than that, he doesn’t have a response to his best friend being ultra obvious about flirting with his girl.

“Hey, Kayla? Do you mind if I chat with Talon alone for a second?” Reagan bats her eyelashes.

“Yes. I called you, remember?” I smile so she knows I’m joking.

“Okay … if you want me to flash all of you, I will.”

Gross. I throw my hands up in defeat and slide from my chair, being careful not to touch Talon in the process. “Okay, I’m out of here. But please keep the nudity to a minimum.”

I remind myself they’re boyfriend and girlfriend—for now—and I only have to suffer for a little bit. And frankly, I’d rather not see all the cutesy stuff right in front of my face anyway.

Wesley stands up too and walks toward what I know is the door of our dorm room. Reagan waves and I hear the door shut.

Before I can take two steps, Talon’s warm and callused hand locks around my wrist. He pulls me down to whisper in my ear. Holy wow. I need to concentrate and not faint.

“She’s not going to flash me. You know that, right?”

Okay … why is he reassuring me about this?

Apparently that unspoken question is all over my face because he answers it.

“You looked a little worried when she said that. That’s all.” He grins.

I take a deep breath and shrug it off, whispering back to him. “I’m used to Reagan being over the top. I’m not worried.” Well, I’m not now.

He smiles at me again, letting go of my wrist. I instantly miss his warm touch and wish I could grab his hand and put it back on my body. But my phone rings, taking me out of my space cadet moment.

Wesley. I shake my head and grin, walking from the room and giving those two privacy while I chat with my partner in crime.

“Did you see that?” he asks without even waiting for me to say hi.

“What? You being a dork? I see that every day.”

“Oh, ha-ha. I’m talking about how I got to spend the night with her. Was Talon in your room last night? I don’t think so.”

“Rubbing it in? That’s real mature of you.”

“When have I ever been mature?”

“Good point.”

“Besides, when I succeed, so do you, right?”

I growl because he’s right. He lets out his big bark of laughter.

“So, what is your major plan for today? I hope it’s better than a football lesson.”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“Has it worked for you before?”

I growl again.

He barks again.

“Do something
you’re
good at. He’ll like it.”

Something I’m good at? “But we already planned to—”

“Afterward. Trust me.”

Trust him? I feel like throttling him for being such a smart-ass. But I spit out an “Okay” because I don’t want to argue. Like Talon would ever be interested in letting me paint his toenails.

“What about you? You’re pulling out your guitar after your finals even though
that
hasn’t worked.”

“Hey, hey, hey. Girls dig the guitar.”

“Yeah, maybe if they’re into the guy first.”

“Ouch.”

“You’re pretending to pull your heart out, aren’t you?”

“You know me too well. It kind of scares the shit out of me.”

“You and me both, buddy.”

“All right, I hear Reagan singing her goodbye song.”

“I do too.”

We laugh.

“I’ll call you later. We’ll see where we’re both at. Good luck today.”

“Yup, you too. With finals and with Reagan.”

“Thanks.”

We hang up right as Talon opens my bedroom door. “Reagan wants to say goodbye.”

I laugh because I can already hear her singing, “So long, farewell,” Wesley joining in. They sound awesome together, like always, and that makes me smile wider.

Maybe they are soul mates too.

(Don’t do that helpless, I-can’t-throw-a-football act. It’s so not working.)

I love his muscles.

Can I lick them? Seriously, no one is around. And they’re right by my face. It could totally be accidental. I was licking my lips and whoops! I got Talon’s arm instead. It’s oh so brilliant, but I’m not quick enough. Talon’s arm loosens its grip, and he rolls on the ground, snow covering him from head to toe.