The Queen B* and the Homecoming King (24 page)

I kissed him back, my head swimming with dizzying thoughts and my heart overflowing with joy. No more hiding our relationship. No more easing into it. No more worrying about losing my position as the Queen B*. I was finally ready to fully embrace my role as Brett’s girlfriend.

That is, until a couple of his teammates made some lewd noises that
let me know we were in danger of needing a room and so they earned my Queen B* glare.

Brett ended the kiss with a nervous laugh and withdrew his hands from under my shirt. “Sorry. Got a little carried away there.”

“Me, too.” I stumbled back, still lightheaded from the kiss. “So, no parties tonight?”

Taylor answered before Brett could as she lumbered past us with all her cheerleading gear. “The
parties are all after the dance tomorrow. Now stop smooching before you end up like Mom.”

For some reason, that made me blush more than getting teased by his friends for our kiss. But I managed to shake it off. “Where are you going?”

She turned around, duffle bags hanging from each shoulder and strands of hair escaping from her ponytail. “To Brett’s truck. Duh!”

I tried to chase after her
to suggest she find another way home, but Brett caught my arm and pulled me back. “We can give her a ride home.”

Disappointment chilled my excitement. I was looking forward to a little alone time with Brett.

“What’s with the pout?” he asked.

I was pouting? I cleared my throat and pulled myself together. “I’m dreading listening to her whine about the walk home.”

“Then drop her off first, and
then go to my house.” He swung forward for a few steps. “Exactly where is my truck?”

“Three blocks away.”

Taylor must’ve had superhero hearing because she lugged her gear back to the sidewalk by the field and dropped it in a heap. “I’ll wait here with Brett while you get the car.”

“Truck,” he teased before joining her.

Brett had made it very clear to everyone that he wanted me, so I didn’t
need to fear my sister’s flirtations. She was probably going to use the situation to (A) make Summer jealous, (B) phish for information that she could pass on to Summer if needed, and (C) raise her status on the popularity pyramid because of her close connection to Brett.

I retrieved Brett’s 4Runner and pulled up to where Taylor stood next to Brett, laughing a little too giddily at something
he said. She got into the backseat while Brett maneuvered into the passenger seat. The whole way home, she chatted nonstop about her big plans for the dance tomorrow night and how Cody was picking her up in a limo with a bunch of their friends to go to dinner at some swanky steakhouse in Bellevue before going to the dance.

Brett didn’t say much. He didn’t need to. The wistful expression on his
face did all the talking for him. He’d wanted to go to the dance and hang out with his friends before he’d broken his ankle, and I kept turning him down. Since then, he hadn’t mentioned it, but he obviously still wished he could go.

Maybe it was time for me to grant him one wish.

The idea percolated through my mind as I drove home. I dropped Taylor off and ran through the pros and cons of my
decision. Was it too late? Would he even agree to go with the broken ankle and all? Oh geez, I would have to scramble for a dress. But when I looked at him, all my doubts were put to rest.

I gathered my courage over the two-block drive and waited until I was parked in his driveway before asking, “Do you want to come to Homecoming with me?”

He quirked the corner of his mouth up into a half-smile.
“We just went to Homecoming.”

“Not the game. The dance.”

He leaned toward me, his elbow resting on the center console. “I thought you didn’t do school dances.” His voice was low and seductive enough to raise the temperature inside the car. I was surprised the windows didn’t fog up right then and there.

“I might be willing to make an exception.” I closed the gap between us until my lips were
a breath away from his. Two could play this seduction game, after all.

“Oh, really?” He cupped his hand around my cheek. “And what made you want to break rule number three?”

“It’s not like you had any respect for the rules anyway,” I managed to reply before giving in to his kiss. It was slow and passionate and tender all at once, and as I reached for him, I realized how hard I’d fallen for him.
Maybe it was too early to call it love, but I could imagine love felt a lot like this. The comfort. The danger. The familiarity. The excitement. Being with Brett was a series of contradictions, and yet they all seemed as natural as breathing.

I was finally ready to give him my heart, and I hoped he understood that going to the dance with him was a sign of that.

The outside light on the porch
suddenly flipped on, filling the car with blaringly bright lights, and Brett snapped back so quickly to his seat, you’d think I’d stung him. “My mom,” he whispered.

“Are you sure it’s not your dad or sister?”

He shook his head as he unfastened his seatbelt. “Dad wouldn’t dare interrupt me while I was kissing a pretty girl.”

My cheeks heated, and I wondered how long we’d actually been kissing.

Brett crawled out of the car and turned around on his crutches. “So we’re on for tomorrow night?”

“If it’s not too late.”

“It’s never too late.” He grinned before he slammed the door shut and made his way to the front door.

I got out and ran up to him. “Don’t forget your keys.”

“Thanks, Lexi.” He placed a chaste kiss on my cheek, knowing his mom was on the other side of the door. “For once
again challenging me to be better.”

“It goes both ways.” I pressed my palm against his chest, measuring how fast his heart was beating and compared it to the frantic pace of my own. “After all, I might need a date for Mom’s wedding in December.”

“I could go for that.”

“Perfect.” I leaned forward, craving one more kiss good night, but a shadow on the other side of the door halted me. “Better
get in before your mom gives you a stern lecture about kissing girls late at night.”

He laughed, but the tips of his ears darkened. “I’ll call you tomorrow to finalize everything.”

“Sounds like a plan.” I backed away, my cheeks hurting from how hard I was smiling.

Brett and I were going to Homecoming together.

But when I reach my house, my joy turned to panic.

Holy shit! Brett and I were
going to Homecoming together.

And I had no clue where to start.

Chapter Twenty-One

Mom was already asleep when I got home, and I couldn’t beg Taylor for help, especially since she was going to be too busy focusing on herself. So I endured a night of fitful sleep that swung between excitement and dread. What if I couldn’t find a dress? What if I had to settle for a strapless one and my boobs flew out while dancing? What if we had to eat dinner at a fast-food
joint because there were no open restaurants? By the time the sunlight streamed through my window, I was a bleary-eyed mess.

I hopped in the shower to wake up and went downstairs in my bathrobe to fix a pot of coffee.

Only to find Pete in the kitchen with Mom.

I tugged at my robe to make sure it covered all the important parts and started to back away, but I was too late. I’d been spotted.

“Good morning, Alexis,” Mom said casually as though there wasn’t a
guy
in our house.

I clutched the top of my robe at the base of my throat. “Um, hi, Mom, Pete.” I sidestepped through the kitchen, facing them but staying as far away as I could. “You’re here early.”

Mom smiled up at him, and he coughed, which totally gave away that he’d spent the night.

Geez, Mom. Talk about a hornball.

I pretended
not to know what they’d been up to all night and poured a cup of coffee from the pot they’d already brewed. “Mom, are you busy today?”

“Pete and I are still looking at venues, and then I have to meet with a few caterers and…” She stopped midsentence and stared me as though I’d grown another head.

I felt along my neck for any sore spots that would indicate a fresh hickey, but luckily didn’t
find any. Still, I pulled my bathrobe up a little higher.

“Why?” she asked with a mixture of confusion and suspicion.

I ran my hand along the granite countertop and tried to see if I could check my reflection in the side of the nearby stainless steel fridge. “Tonight’s the Homecoming dance, and it was kind of a spontaneous, last-minute thing, but I asked Brett to go with me, and I don’t have
a clue where to start getting ready, and…” I gulped. “And I could use a little help.”

An apologetic look flashed over Mom’s face, and she opened her mouth to probably tell me why she couldn’t, but Pete interrupted her.

“I can do a little legwork today and send you some pics of the places, Susan. Then, if any of them catch your fancy, we can go back and see them together.”

“But the caterers—”

“Will still be there in a few days.” He nodded toward me before wrapping his arm around Mom’s waist and pressing his lips to her forehead. “Sounds like Alexis needs you right now.”

Brownie points for Pete. If he hadn’t have stepped in, Mom would’ve probably given me the “I’d love to but I already have too many plans” speech. I still wasn’t cool with Mom marrying him so quickly, but he was starting
to creep onto my good side.

“You’re right,” she replied and leaned into him. “I’ll call the caterers and reschedule.”

“I can do it for you.” Pete handed Mom her cell phone. “Just text me their numbers, and I’ll handle it from here.”

A minute later, he left the room, armed with the information he needed to start those calls.

Mom joined me by the coffee pot and combed through my tangled, damp
hair. “So, what do we need to do today?”

“Well, for starters, I need one of those frou-frou dresses that girls wear to school dances.”

Mom arched both brows. “Do you
want
a frou-frou dress?”

I snorted with a sarcastic laugh. “No, but what else would I wear? I mean, I saw the strapless sequined number with the tutu that Taylor’s wearing.”

“I might have something.” She moved toward the stairs
and motioned for me to follow.

Mom had a gigantic walk-in closet the size of most kids’ rooms, so I wouldn’t have been surprised if she had some little formal number tucked away in there that might work.

But what she pulled out was still in a brand-new garment bag. “When I was trying on dresses for the wedding, I saw this one on the clearance rack and had to get it.”

I waited for it to be something
older and maternal that she would wear, but the dress she pulled out took my breath away. It was a pearly white illusion dress with a shimmering silver lace overlay and sparkly beaded sash. The A-line cut would hit just above my knee and flatter my figure, and the modest neckline would keep me from worrying about a wardrobe malfunction. I reached out to touch it, relieved the lace didn’t
feel stiff or itchy. “It’s stunning.”

“I thought it would make a lovely maid of honor dress, but seeing as how you need a formal dress a little sooner, do you think this might work?”

I nodded. “You bought this for me?”

“Yes, for the wedding.”

I squirmed every time she mentioned it and decided now was probably the best time to get a few things off my chest. “Mom, what’s going to happen after
you and Pete get married?”

“What do you mean?”

“Baby aside, Taylor and I are both kind of freakin’ about the prospect of maybe having to move and change schools halfway through the year.”

“Pete and I already talked about this. He knows how well-rooted you two are at your school, so he’ll be moving in with us. He’s going to rent out his place until Taylor graduates, and after that we’ll decide
where we’ll live.” She handed me the garment bag with the dress inside. “Why don’t you try it on?”

I dashed down the hall, excitement and dread churning in my stomach. We weren’t in danger of moving, which was a relief. I loved the dress, which was a first for me since I usually hated fancy dresses. Still, I was worried it would look absolutely horrible on me and I’d have to either look through
the leftovers at the mall or rummage through my mom’s closet some more, which could be a nightmare.

But when I slipped it on, it fit perfectly.

I was on my way to the mirror when my mom knocked. “Can I see?”

“Sure.” I closed my eyes, moved in front of my full-length mirror, and opened them.

The dress was even more gorgeous than I’d imagined. I felt like Cinderella after her fairy godmother
had worked her bibbidi-bobbidi-boo magic and turned her rags into a gown fit for a princess.

Only my hair was more like Merida’s wild mane than Cinderella’s neat updo.

Mom moved behind me and started smoothing it back as though she knew what I was thinking. “Maybe we can get you into a salon for the hair.” She managed to pull it back and nodded. “And if we’re lucky, we can get you a mani-pedi.
Oh, and then the shoes.”