On His Face: A Brother's Best Friend Romantic Comedy

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On His Face: A Brother's Best Friend Romantic Comedy Page 1

by Tabatha Kiss




  On His Face

  Tabatha Kiss

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Chapter 52

  Chapter 53

  Chapter 54

  Chapter 55

  Excerpt: Pretty Little Thing

  Also by Tabatha Kiss

  About the Author

  Copyright © 2020 by Tabatha Kiss

  All Rights Reserved.

  Cover Design by Cover Me Timbers

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the author.

  This is a work of fiction intended for mature audiences only. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  This novel contains explicit descriptions of erotic and sexual acts that some may find offensive, including perverse adult language.

  All characters are 18+ years of age and all sexual acts are consensual.

  Reader discretion advised.

  Visit TabathaKiss.com for a FREE book!

  For Mom

  (Please stop reading.)

  Chapter 1

  Heidi

  September

  “This guy looks like a total prick.”

  I glare with surprise at Jenna sitting at the easel beside me. “Shh!” I say. “He’ll hear you.”

  “Well, he does,” she says, her strawberry blonde bob tickling her chin.

  I quickly check the model standing still in the center of the classroom. His face points to the right, his expression dull and void since class began, but that’s his job. Stand still for an hour. Earn fifty bucks.

  “No, he doesn’t,” I whisper.

  “No, definitely an asshole,” she says at normal volume.

  “Jenna.”

  “Resting prick face alert.”

  “Stop.”

  She raises a brow at me. “What?”

  “He’ll hear you,” I say.

  “Oh, calm down.” She scoffs. “No, he won’t.”

  “He might, though.”

  “So what if he does? He probably already knows and if not, then I don’t mind being the one to tell him.”

  I focus on my drawing again. Two dark charcoal eyes stare back at me from the easel, matching the ones on the model. Tonight’s assignment is drawing faces. Luckily, I’ve always been good at faces — and only faces. Hands? Nope. Clothes? Nada. But I can do faces.

  I snap my head toward my elbow as I sneeze. Stupid allergies.

  “Bless you,” Jenna mutters.

  “Thanks.”

  I glance up from my portrait as the model’s eyes flick away from me. Or maybe I just imagined it. Either way, my stomach turns somersaults. Did he hear Jenna call him an asshole? Or worse, did he think I said it? I hope I imagined it.

  Please let me have imagined it.

  I press charcoal to paper and add a little texture to the shadows beneath his nose. I blend it upward, following along the sharp cheekbone up to his ear, giving him a thin five o’clock shadow. I fill in the prominent cleft beneath his nose, then look at him again before outlining his lips.

  I lean forward without thinking. I squint to focus on his lips across the classroom. They’re thick, but not too thick. They dip down on the edges, creating a slight scowl. That’s probably why Jenna thinks the way she does, but I disagree. I think it makes him look pensive and wise. He’s young, but older than us by a few years. A real college man.

  His eyes flick in my direction. My hand jolts and I accidentally drag the pencil too far up his cheek.

  “Shit,” I whisper.

  Jenna leans over on her stool and chortles at my portrait. “Why so serious?” she says.

  I groan before reaching for my rubber eraser.

  “So, I’m thinking of heading to Bobby’s after class,” Jenna says.

  “Oh, yeah?” I ask as I attempt to save my portrait.

  “He and his roommates are having a little get-together. You should totally come along.”

  “Oh, no thanks,” I say. “I don’t want to intrude.”

  “Heidi, it’s not an intrusion if you’re invited,” she says, her voice slipping into that annoyed tone I know so well.

  “I know. I just...” I pause, searching for an excuse. “I have some homework to do.”

  “No one does homework on a Thursday night,” she says. “It’s the law.”

  “Well, I’m tired,” I say, grabbing the next available excuse. “I worked a double shift at the diner today and I wanted to catch up on my sleep.”

  “So you’re going to sleep and do all that homework, too?”

  I glare at her gotcha smile. “… Yes,” I answer.

  “Or you can come with me to Bobby’s and have some fun.”

  “No, thank you.”

  Jenna scoffs. “Heidi, do you remember the deal we made when we moved to Chicago together?”

  I sigh. “Yes, I remember.”

  “You said that you were the boring homebody in high school and you wanted to branch out at college.”

  My nose twitches. Another sneeze incoming. “I know, I just—”

  “I agreed to be your mentor on the condition that you actually try.”

  I snap toward my elbow again to obscure my sneeze.

  “Bless you,” she says again.

  “Thanks. I will try, Jenna. I just don’t want to try tonight. That’s all.”

  “Okay, fine.” She slowly draws the line of his jaw on her own portrait. “But tomorrow night, you’re going out with me.”

  I nod, jumping on the opportunity to satiate her and end this conversation. “I will go out with you tomorrow night,” I repeat.

  “Promise?”

  I cringe playfully. “Do I have to?”

  “Heidi, you will never fall in love with a stranger if you never meet people.”

  “But meeting people means they aren’t strangers anymore.”

  She pauses, briefly taken back by the logic. “Whatever. I’m not letting you weasel your way out of this one. You are going out with me tomorrow night and that’s final.”

  I chuckle. “I will.”

  “And then, you will do what your BFF Jenna would do, and bring a cute boy home with you to play with.”

  I shake my head. “Yeah, I’m not doing that.”

  “Yes, you are.”

 
“No, I’m not.”

  “Heidi.”

  “Jenna.”

  She pivots on her stool to face me. “Heidi, I love you. I adore you. You’ve been my bestie since we were five. All I want is for you to be happy.”

  “I appreciate that,” I say, waiting for the punchline.

  “That’s why I want you to drink and be merry and invite cute boys over on a whim to touch your naughty bits.”

  And there it is.

  I blink twice. “How sweet.”

  “Seriously. Every day that I come home and I don’t see a hair scrunchie on your doorknob, I die a little inside.”

  I snort at her dumb system. “Okay, Jenna.”

  “So, please, do it for me.” She reaches out and pats my knee. “Do it for your naughty bits, Heidi. We need this.”

  “Please stop calling it that.”

  “Bring a boy home and I will.”

  “If I say I’ll think about it, will you drop it?” I ask.

  “Yes,” she answers.

  “Then, I’ll think about it.”

  “Thank you. But don’t over-think it. It’s just naughty bits.”

  I cringe as I twist back to face my portrait. With blushed cheeks, I raise my charcoal and try to focus on finishing his lips.

  I glance up at the model’s face. His eyes turn away again, sending a brief shiver down my spine.

  Can he hear us?

  No, definitely not.

  Dear lord, I hope not.

  I stuff my sketchpad into my backpack as thunder rumbles just outside the doors of Ramsey Hall. Rain pours down from the sky. Lightning every few seconds. This storm isn’t going anywhere. I try to find a way to keep my backpack — and my precious sketchpad — from getting soaked on my way to the parking lot.

  No more rain, the weatherman said.

  Leave the umbrella at home tonight, he said.

  No wonder my allergies are going nuts tonight.

  Jenna groans as she flicks up the hood on her jacket. “Another storm?” she asks.

  “Another storm,” I repeat.

  “This better not mess up my hair before I get to Bobby’s...”

  I chuckle at her little face just barely visible through the hole of her hood. “If he really likes you, then it shouldn’t matter what your hair looks like.”

  Jenna scoffs. “You got a lot to learn about men, kiddo.”

  I shrug. “I guess so.”

  She throws her messenger bag strap over her shoulder and exhales, locked and loaded for battle. “All right. I’ll see you later tonight.”

  “Okay,” I say.

  “Or tomorrow morning.” She chuckles. “We’ll see.”

  “Have fun.”

  “I will!”

  Jenna charges through the door into the rain. I quickly follow, pinching the hood of my jacket with one hand and keeping my backpack shielded with the other. The rain is loud and unyielding over the sounds of my sneakers stomping through the puddles as I sprint through campus toward the student parking lot. I spot my old, beat-up sedan parked beneath a lamppost on the west side and bolt faster toward it.

  Jenna weaves through the parked cars ahead of me, racing to her Mustang a few spots down from mine. “Bye, Heidi!” she shouts into the wind as she opens the driver’s side and leaps inside.

  “Bye, Jenna!” I shout back as I rustle through my pocket for my keys.

  I open my door and toss my backpack inside, resting it on the passenger’s seat before climbing in myself. I close the door and sit back, happy to listen to the rain slapping against my roof for a few seconds while I catch my breath.

  Jenna’s engine revs with life, her bright headlights flashing on a mere second before she hits the gas and blazes out of the lot way faster than she should.

  With a chuckle, I slide my key in the ignition and turn it.

  Click, click, click.

  “No...” I whisper. I turn it again.

  Click, click.

  “Oh, come on! Please...”

  Click, click, click.

  “I think I can,” I say, feeling some hope. “I think I can. I think...”

  Click, click, click.

  “Dammit.” I abandon the keys. “Dammit. Dammit!”

  I must have left my lights on. No, I didn’t. Did I?

  Shit.

  I reach for my backpack in search of my phone. Jenna will hate me for this, but I don’t have anyone else I can call.

  A horn blares outside. I look up at a car sitting idle directly in front of me. I squint, but I can’t make out who it is through the blinding headlights.

  The lights flash twice at me.

  Jenna!

  I put the phone away and grab my bag. She must have spotted me sitting here like an idiot.

  I’m saved!

  I rush outside, locking my dumb car behind me as I race toward her. The passenger side door pops for me. I grab it, quickly sliding in and out of the rain before I get soaked all over again.

  I drop my bag on the floor between my feet. “Jenna, thank you—”

  I freeze.

  No. Not Jenna.

  Definitely not Jenna.

  Jenna’s not a man.

  Jenna doesn’t have those cheekbones.

  Or that chestnut hair. Or a five o’clock shadow. Or those perfect, round eyes I shaded with charcoal just twenty minutes ago… which I can now see are a bright shade of green.

  It’s the model from class.

  And I just got into his car.

  I just got into a stranger’s car.

  My stomach clenches.

  He looks at me with one hand on the wheel. The other touches his chin, giving it a simple scratch as he bobs his head toward my car.

  “Car trouble?” he asks with a deep, youthful growl.

  I open my mouth to answer, but nothing comes out. My voice, lost somewhere in the depths of my throat, refuses to do its job.

  “I...” I squeak.

  Leave.

  Get out.

  Run.

  Now.

  “I’m sorry!” I say as I fumble for the knob. “I thought you were someone else.”

  “Wait,” he says, making me pause. “It’s all right. Stay out of the rain.”

  Another bolt of lightning flashes in the sky and I flinch.

  He smiles, that perfect jawline dipping with the most delicious dimples I’ve ever seen.

  Why did I have to flinch like a damn child?

  My cheeks burn. My fingers shake. Still, I say nothing.

  His throat clears. “So, car trouble?” he asks again.

  “Uh...” I find my voice. “Yeah. I think so. I tried to start it and it did that clicking thing.”

  “Sounds like a dead battery. You leave the lights on?”

  I roll my eyes. “Yeah, probably. That’s definitely something I’d do.”

  Again, he smiles. “No worries, I’ll give you a jump.”

  “No—!” I shake my head. “No, don’t... don’t trouble yourself. I can get my roommate to do it in the morning.”

  “It’s no trouble.”

  “It’s pouring out there! Really don’t. I’d feel like an asshole — more than I already do.”

  He sits back and laughs. “Then, can I give you a ride home?” he asks.

  I hesitate. I can walk it. It’s not too far. It’s only... on the other side of campus, plus two blocks. And my backpack would get soaked, my sketchbook included. I can’t even describe how much that would ruin this already horribly eventful night.

  Or I can do as my BFF Jenna would do and let the cute boy drive me home.

  I hold my breath, feigning confidence. “Okay,” I squeak.

  He smiles again.

  Dimples for days.

  Chapter 2

  Heidi

  “It’s just right up here,” I say, pointing to the old house on the corner.

  He nods from the driver’s seat, his eyes safely on the road. I quickly slip my hand right back between my knees again. I sit still, aw
kwardly pinched in place as I try to survive this social interaction that fate has thrust upon me tonight.

  Just be cool, Heidi.

  “Is the driveway okay?” he asks.

  “Uh-huh,” I answer. “My roommate won’t be back for a while, so you shouldn’t get blocked in or anything.”

  He pulls into the driveway and stops the car, but he leaves the engine running. “You live on Shanty Row, eh?” he asks as he glances out the window.

  “Uh... yeah,” I answer slowly.

  “Hey, no shame,” he says, sensing my shift. “I’ve gone to a lot of great parties on this street. I dig Shanty Row.”

  My lips twitch. “I hear the parties are nice, yeah.”

  Just be cool…

  “You hear?” he asks.

  “I...” I stutter for a second. “I don’t party... much. I’m a bit of a loner, mostly…”

  Yeah. Real cool there, Heidi.

  “That’s okay,” he says, smiling.

  I reach for my backpack, desperate to put myself as far away from this as possible. “Well, uh… thanks for the ride,” I say. “Sorry if it was out of your way.”

  “It wasn’t,” he says. “Hold on a sec.”

  He opens his door and hops outside before I can respond. I watch through the windshield as he loops around the car. He quickly slips his jacket off and holds it up, creating a cover for me from the pouring rain as he opens my door.

 

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