The Kiss (5 page)

“Are you my girlfriend? No, I’m not
drunk
. I had a drink or two.” He smacked the back of Bill’s head playfully. “You had your fun, and so did I.”

Bill rubbed his head. “There wasn’t much fun to be had,” he mumbled.

“What was that?”

“There wasn’t much fun to be had. Not that I blame her.” Nate was giving him his full attention, and Bill thought maybe—just
maybe
—he could tell him the truth and not pretend he’d had a first class date. “It was the date from hell, man. Wrong place, no chemistry, ant-attack, no chemistry…”

“So she didn’t thank you…properly?” Despite the naughty meaning behind his words, Nate seemed serious.

Bill was incredulous. “
I
wouldn’t have, if I were her, and I’m
easy
.” He shuffled his feet. “I did get a goodnight kiss, though.”

Nate grabbed both of Bill’s shoulders and looked him in the eye. “Tongue?”

“Minimal, as was duration. I somehow doubt I’ll be seeing her again. Possibly
ever
. Not even by accident.”

Bill decided telling Nate the truth hadn’t been a good idea after all, judging by the howl of laughter that followed his last statement. He
knew
he should have stuck with the typical macho bullshit; he should have fed Nate a made-up story about an awesome date that ended with oral sex—him in the receiving end. That would have gotten the jackass off his case.

“Don’t sweat it, man. Happens to the best of us. You two just weren’t meant to be.” Nate wrapped an arm around his shoulder, turned him toward the direction he was originally going.

Bill sighed with relief and was about to thank him, when Nate let go and swatted Bill’s ass. “Now go play with yourself thinking of might-have-beens.”

“You’re such an ass.” Bill didn’t waste a second to put some distance between them.

***

“
That’s
my girl,” Nate whispered. He tossed away his forgotten cigarette and lit a new one. “One for the road,” he muttered to himself, forcing his feet to lead him the opposite direction than the one tugging at his entire being.

Chapter Six

Despite having told Krista she wouldn’t give up, Eliza woke up feeling quite down.

The date with Bill had provided laughing material for a lifetime, and she’d genuinely liked the guy—as a
person
—but somehow the evening had brought home the very real possibility that she’d never find out who’d kissed her.

Days had gone by, and she was sure that the mystery man would have shown up by then, if he was really into her. Unless maybe he was deformed. It could be a
Phantom of The Opera
kind of thing.

She shook her head at her silliness, rolled over, and buried her face into her pillow.

It could still be Cal, she thought, though she somehow doubted it. The way he carried himself showed he had confidence in his manhood, but he lacked the finesse of whoever had changed her world with a kiss in the dark.

“Shouldn’t judge a book by its cover,” she muttered to herself, the sound muffled against the pillow.

Plus, if it wasn’t him, it could be either of the last two guys. That she’d failed to spot them around town since that night didn’t mean she never would. There was still hope.

Only, she didn’t feel all that hopeful.

***

Cal was militarily punctual.

He knocked on Eliza’s door at precisely eight in the evening. When Eliza said there was no reason for him to come upstairs to get her, he said that was what a gentleman did.

He also brought her a red rose, which really tipped the scale toward him, and he was dressed appropriately: dress slacks and a button down shirt that did
not
have colorful patterns on it.

Maybe she’d been wrong in her assessment of him.

She filled a coffee mug with cold water, put the flower in it, took his proffered arm, and bid Krista goodnight.

Cal told her he’d made reservations for them in a fine restaurant—not too posh, but certainly not a casual diner—and commented on how her dress matched her eyes.

All in all, that date started off in the most promising of ways.

Until the waitress came to take their order.

“I’ll have the pepper steak, medium-rare, and the lady will have the Carpaccio and mozzarella salad,” Cal said. Then he turned to Eliza and winked. “I know how you gals are always on a low calorie diet.”

She decided not to kick him in the shin just then. He had been extremely polite up to that point, after all. If ordering for her without asking first and making one politically incorrect remark was all he had going against him, she’d get over it—even if she was drooling at the thought of his steak, and had never been worried about her diet.

It appeared that wasn’t all.

Cal Finn was as dull as a doorknob. An unpolished one.

All he talked about was the class, the lecturer, and
the team
. Early on, Eliza had to prop her elbow on the table and lay her cheek on her palm, to avoiding falling asleep in her salad.

He wasn’t a bad guy, she told herself. Just not Mr. Right. Or Mr. Right-Now.

To be absolutely honest, he was Mr. Right-Now-I’d-Rather-Be-
Anywhere
-Else.

Oh, great.
He changed the subject.

“I go to the gym every day.” The way he
needed
to flex his biceps to serve her some wine gave Eliza a vivid imagery of a male peacock stretching its tail feathers.

“That’s nice. I do kick-boxing three times a week.”

He chuckled. “Gives you the illusion you can defend yourself?”

Eliza decided that even if he
was
the kisser there was no future for the two of them. She’d throttle him in his sleep if they ever were a couple. “I don’t need an illusion.” She drove a leaf of lettuce across her plate with her fork. “I can actually land any would-be-attacker on his ass.”

He smiled and patted her arm. “With this here?”

She returned his smile. “I’m pretty good with kneeing groins.” And pretty close to doing just that.

The brute retracted his hand and turned his focus to his humongous steak. The mashed potatoes on the side made Eliza’s mouth water. “There is no need to get testy, Eliza. All I wanted to say was that every girl needs a man by her side, if she’s to feel safe.”

He actually
believed
that. Eliza rolled her eyes so hard, she almost saw the inside of her head.

Amazingly, Cal remained oblivious. “Besides, that is the purpose of a woman: to find someone to settle down with.” He shrugged.

“And the purpose of a man?” Keeping the irritation out of her voice was exceedingly difficult.

“He has to be able to provide for the woman at his side.” He seemed shocked she didn’t already know that. “Has to have a solid job, so he can bring the bread home while she raises his children.”

She’d heard more than enough. “I’m sorry; I have a horrible headache. I think I’d better go.”

He wiped some pepper sauce off his lip and pushed back his chair. “I’ll drive you. We came together, and it’s my responsibility to make sure you get to your room safely.”

But she wanted to get a burger on the way home. Damn her politeness! “You really don’t need to, Cal.” Emphasis on the
really
.

He wouldn’t take no for an answer. He insisted until she relented and let him pay and drive her back. At least he remained silent and kept his hands to himself until they reached her dorm.

“I’ll walk you to your room.”

“We’re not allowed to have guests after nine.” The lie came out with surprising ease.

“Then I’ll have to say goodnight here.” Without warning, he wrapped his arms around her and shoved his tongue into her mouth.

Not only wasn’t he
the
kisser, he was bad at it. Extremely bad. His tongue was slimy with too much saliva, and he’d stuck it halfway down Eliza’s throat, not allowing her any movement. And he opened his mouth way too much, like he was trying to eat her face.

She pulled away, but he must have thought her shock was lust-induced because he winked. “That’s all for tonight. There’s a party at the frat house tomorrow. I’ll be waiting for you.”

Oh,
goodie
! She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “Cal, fun though tonight was, I don’t think—” There was simply no way she’d see him again. Or make an appearance at a party where most attendees would be his friends and thus more or less share his way of thinking.

There was no sign he’d heard her. “Come at ten; it should be at full blast by then.” It was possible that women didn’t have voices in his little world.

She sighed. “Thank you for dinner, but I’m not coming. Goodnight.” She opened the door and walked inside before he could say another phallocratic word.

She waited until Cal was sure to have left, and was out that door again, determined to get something to eat this time. Something meaty and chock full of cholesterol. With a side of fries.

She knew the perfect place.
Bobbie’s
,
just outside campus, combined
greasy
and
tasty
to perfection.

***

Three bites into a juicy cheeseburger with bacon and extra mayo, she was interrupted by a voice she wouldn’t mind never hearing again in her life.

“What, the Hulk didn’t feed you?”

She looked up, and there was Nate, grinning like he’d just won the lotto.

She apparently wasn’t meant to go to bed on a full stomach. She made a show out of chewing her mouthful, swallowing, and licking her lips. “Not your business. Now crawl back to whatever hole you crawled out of.”

“And miss the opportunity to rub in the fact you date losers?” He scoffed. “Try again, Sunshine.”

Why was she so unlucky? Why did he have to run into her—
and
know about her date? She doubted he knew about her going out with Bill the previous night. There was no way he’d bypass an opportunity to make fun of her, and going out on two disaster dates in two consecutive nights was nothing if not such an opportunity.

“What do you want? How did you even know I was out with Cal?”

“Ah-
ha
!” He pulled out the chair opposite hers, planted his ass on it, and helped himself to some of her fries. “How did
you
know ‘the Hulk’ meant him?”

“Well, he’s not like that.” The whiny way she said it didn’t even convince herself. She tried again. “He’s fun—”

“Boring.” He drew the word out and reached for more fries.

She slapped his hand away, hard. “And sweet—”

“Then why are you here with me and not with him, getting cozy?” The look of triumph he gave her could have been because he’d not only managed to get a fried potato, but also dipped it in
her
mayo.

He kept cutting her off, damn him, and touching her food! “I’m
not
with
you. You…you appeared—”

“You
ditched
Mr. Fun-and-Sweet for a burger? What kind of a person are you?” He gave her a mock-horrified look, then proceeded to lick mayonnaise off his fingers. Slowly.

She barely kept her gaze from lingering inappropriately on his tongue. “I didn’t—”

“Or maybe he wasn’t fun.
Or
sweet… Oh, I know! He was nothing but an overgrown boy-scout with the sense of humor of a decorative plant, and you just don’t want to admit that you went for the wrong guy once again.”

She hated it so much when he was right. She gave him the kick in the shin she’d itched to deal Cal, and stood.

“Ouch!” He leaned down to rub his leg.

“You’re so wrong, it’s not even funny. I’m seeing Cal again—not that it’s any of your business.”

“Liar!”

“Am
not
. I’m going to his party at the Lowell House tomorrow. You can finish this off. I’m not hungry anymore.” She pushed her plate his way and walked away from what could have been a perfectly good dinner.

She ended up fully dressed on her bed, eating crackers and wondering why on earth Nate wouldn’t just leave her alone. And why on earth she let him get to her so much.

Oh, and how the fuck she’d survive a party with not one but several Cal-minded people.

***

Nate threw an arm over his eyes, thinking for the millionth time that he should get thicker curtains for his bedroom.

The light seeping in reminded him of Eliza’s hair that night.

Could things stop reminding him of her, he wondered.

Chapter Seven

“Who on earth thinks Sunday is a good day for a party?” Eliza had gone through her list of points-to-whine-about concerning both Cal and Nate, and was now focusing on the wrongness that was that night’s party.

Krista had her maths book on her lap and was turning pages with a bored expression on her face. “We’re not in high-school anymore,” she said, as if that explained everything.

Eliza tilted her head to the side.

“I mean, there’s no school nights and stuff. We can stay out late whenever we want. And have parties on Sundays and” —she took a deep breath— “and fall in love despite floral patterns.”

Eliza’s left eyebrow shot toward her hairline. “Explain?”

“I think I’ll spend the night at Bill’s.” Krista crossed her arms and looked at Eliza as if challenging her to protest.

“How come?” Krista hung her head, but not before Eliza saw her blush. “Oh.
Oh!
Um…well, that's great. You know, I mean, I think Bill's a really great guy, Kris.”

“He is. And I’m sorry that he’s—that you went out with him first, but it wasn't something I was looking for. It's just—” she let out a dramatic sigh “—powerful.”

“Honey, there was nothing
ever
between me and him. And I couldn’t be happier for you. Unless…” Eliza looked at her fingernails, frowning.

“Unless what?”

“Unless you and Bill could come to the party with me. Please? I could totally be happier then.” She used the potent combo of puppy eyes and a pout.

Krista shook her head. “You can forget about it. You don’t even have to go. Just because you told Nate—”

“Yes, just because I told
him
. I don’t want him to think he was right.”

“But, Eliza, he
was
!” Krista put her book aside, stood, and approached her. “We’re not in high-school any more. You should be doing things for
you
now. You don’t have to prove anything to anyone.”

Eliza nodded. “You’re right. I know you are.” Still, she ironed her favorite backless top. She’d go and she’d look stunning. And she’d do that for herself.

***

The party didn’t disappoint; it was exactly as horrible as Eliza had expected it to be.

Cal had grabbed her arm the moment she’d walked through the door, and wouldn’t let go until he’d introduced her to pretty much every single one of his friends.

“This is
Eliza
,” he’d say with a wink.

Every wink made her want to elbow him in the gut.

She’d already been there for an hour, and Nate hadn’t shown up—not that she was constantly looking at the front door, or anything. It made her feel like a complete idiot for going. Once more she wondered why she bothered with what he thought. The little voice inside, the one she usually ignored, knew the answer: Nate was an ass, but his infuriating remarks had never been wrong. If only he’d approached things differently—in a non-hating-her kind of way—he’d have saved her loads of heartache.

And maybe she’d like him then.

Well, he didn’t care about her liking him, and saving her heartache certainly wasn’t among his priorities.

She sighed and turned her focus on Cal, who had finally let go of her arm.

“The guys have set up a little bet.” He winked
again
. “So I’ll leave you without the pleasure of my company for a while.”

“A bet?” How long had she zoned out for?

“A drinking contest. Beer.” He smirked, and she was extremely annoyed that the first thought on her mind was how smirks looked much better on Nate.

Bad,
bad
way of thinking. Nothing looked good on Nate, because Nate wasn’t good-looking. She’d have to keep reminding herself that. She assured Cal she’d manage to have some fun without him and walked towards the far end of the living room.

There, among a circle of people playing Spin-the-Bottle, sat the two guys who’d been at
The
Gridlock
on the night of the kiss—the ones she’d nicknamed
Flashy
and
Biker Wannabe
. Eliza flicked her gaze upward, silently thanking Whoever Held the Strings for one last chance to spot her mystery kisser. If he was one of those two, she would finally find out which. If not, she’d probably grow old nagging at her friends about losing what could have been true love.

Oh, well, if she tried hard enough, she might someday convince herself that she’d dreamed up that perfect kiss.

With her best flirty grin, she approached the circle. “Can I play?” Nobody seemed to mind—there were in fact some wolf whistles, which she attributed to her lucky, tiny top—so she strategically placed herself opposite to where the two men sat side by side. If she spun the bottle just right, she might be able to get either one of them.

“New girl spins,” a geeky looking guy suggested.

Eliza smiled and did just that.

The bottle stopped in front of Biker Wannabe, who
blushed profusely. He wasn’t wearing his leather jacket this time, but perspiration shone on his forehead as he got on his hands and knees. Internally patting herself on the back, Eliza crawled forward and met him half way for her kiss.

Simply put, it turned out to be nothing to write home about. No more than a friendly peck that caused no tingles whatsoever. Eh, it was probably the other guy. Typical of her luck that Mr. Right would turn out to be the last man she’d ever go for. She shuddered at the memory of the turquoise suit. Maybe he would tone down the flashiness for the right girl.

“This wasn’t a proper kiss! Spin it once more!” The geeky guy who’d said it was her turn to play licked his lips. “Maybe you’ll get lucky this time.”

He was sitting at
Flashy
’s right, and Eliza really didn’t feel like kissing him, so she decided to not try and rig the spin again. Instead, she placed her hand at the middle of the bottle and turned it with all the strength she could muster.

The bottle turned two, three,
four
times…and ended up pointing at a pair of boots that had just stomped their way into the circle.

“Well, look at that,” said the owner of the boots. “I guess you did get lucky.”

Eliza would honestly rather not look. She’d pluck her own eyes out rather than see the man she was supposed to kiss. Could her night get any worse? “You’re not playing, Nate.”

“Says who? I want to play. You’ll like it.” He wagged his tongue in that extremely annoying way that never failed to make heat rise up Eliza’s cheeks.

“I’m not kissing you!” She knew she sounded like a spoiled brat, but couldn’t have cared less.

“Oh, come
on
, Sunshine. I’ve brushed
and
flossed!”

People around them whistled and wooted, urging her to not break the rules of the game, and she thought maybe that was a good thing. She could possibly bite his tongue off, and rid herself of his maddening commentary on her life.

With a sigh, she rose and took a step towards him. Strangely, her legs felt like jell-o.

Nate gently placed a hand on her hip. “You’ll survive.” He leaned closer, and despite herself Eliza closed her eyes and let her lips part.

The kiss never came.

Cold liquid splashed the side of her face and poured down her front, making her jump and open her eyes.

“You slut!” Cal’s eyes blazed with fury. He’d showered her with his beer.

“Hey! No need for that.” Nate held up a hand. “It’s just a game.”

“You stay out of this, asshole.” Cal grabbed Eliza’s upper arm and shook her harshly. “You’re a cock-tease, Eliza.” His voice was loud enough that she knew everyone around heard him.

“Let go of me!” She pushed him back, but he wouldn’t let go.

“No! You came here for me, and instead I find you kissing every man you see. What’s next?” His eyes were red, bulging. “Rubbing against them? Taking them to bed?
Whore
!” He raised his palm, as if to slap her.

She’d heard enough. Balling her hand into a fist, she aimed for his solar plexus. She wasn’t fast enough.

Nate punched Cal in the face.

Then, when Cal released Eliza to pinch his bleeding nose, Nate swiped Cal’s legs out from under him, sending him to land on his ass. “She said let go, you fucker.”

Eliza turned stunned eyes to her unexpected savior, just in time to see Mike and Leo double-team him. Mike sucker punched him from the side, the fraternity ring on his finger tearing a gash on Nate’s cheekbone. Nate swung at him, but Mike dodged it and then trapped Nate’s arms so Leo could punch him in the gut.

Nate doubled over in pain, and the two bent down to help Cal, ignoring the gathering crowd yelling for more.

Eliza was still shocked and trying to make sense of what had just happened, when Nate raised his bloodied face, and asked, “Are you all right?”

What the hell was wrong with this guy? His eyebrow was torn, he was holding his gut and wincing in pain, and yet he was asking if
she
was all right? Had he forgotten he hated her?

“I’m fine.” She pulled out of reach when he made to grab her shoulder. There was blood covering his eye. She sighed and looped her arm around his waist to help him straighten up. “What were you thinking? I—”

“I wasn’t,” he whispered.

“What?”

“I wasn’t thinking. I heard him talk to you like that, saw him grab you, and thought I’d save you.”

“For
yourself
? I didn’t
need
saving. I’ve handled worse.” She turned to Cal who leaned dazedly against the wall. “Don’t call me.
Ever
!” Mike and Leo held their arms up when she glared at them.

“He started it,” Leo said, pointing at Nate.

Eliza just narrowed her eyes and they moved aside for her to lead Nate out of there. The whole party seemed to have stopped, everyone watching the odd couple make their way to the exit.

Once outside, she turned him to face her. “I think that’s gonna need stitches.” She pointed at his eyebrow, but he withdrew from her finger. It made her feel bad.

“Not necessary. I heal easy.” He dabbed at the blood with the hem of his shirt.

“I still think we should take you to the hospital.”

He shoved a hand into the back pocket of his jeans and came up with a crumpled packet of Marlboros and a Zippo.

“You smoke?” She’d never known that about him. Or much of anything, really. They hadn’t done much socializing together, what with his insulting her and one of them leaving every time they’d happened to meet.

“Yes. I’m bad. Want to spank me and show me the error of my ways?” He leered, but the blood trickling down his face killed the effect.

She hit the cigarette out of his hand as he was raising it to his lips. “Not really. I want to punch you, as always. I just don’t think I need to.”

He didn’t try for a second cigarette. “Nice way of thanking me.”

His resigned sigh bothered her, as had his behavior minutes earlier. “Why did you do that, Nate? Why stand up for me?” She still didn’t get it, and really wanted to. His reaction to Cal’s putting her down had been shocking, to say the least.

He shrugged. “I don’t really know. It felt like I had to.”

A breeze made Eliza’s skin erupt in little goose bumps. She rubbed her arms, all too aware of the chilly night air.

“You should be going. You’ll catch your death in that skimpy excuse for a top. And your hair is wet.”

She shook his words off. “I’ll walk you to your car. You drove here, right? Are you okay to be driving home?” Why did she care? She owed him, she reasoned with herself.

“I’m not going home. Don’t want my dad seeing me like this.” Blood dripped on his T-shirt when he looked down.

“Come.” She took a couple of steps before she realized he wasn’t following. “Well? You coming?”

“Where?”

“My room. You got all messed up defending my honor.” She grabbed a fist-full of his short sleeve and pulled him after her. “I’m not sending you home until you’re cleaned up and in a fresh tee.”

He said nothing, letting her drag him along.