by Cassie Mae
“Ten, nine…”
I rest my back on the wall, my arm hanging down my side, the flute still in my hand. Candace sidles up to Zach, in perfect position, her smile lighting the entire room. He grins back and leans down, whispering something in her ear that makes her blush.
I almost lose the grip on my champagne glass.
“…six, five…”
This is what she’s been working toward. All the time we spent together, the holey outfits, the ride on Gertrude… All for him. He better damn well appreciate everything she did for him. Not that she’ll ever say a thing.
Well, she might blurt it out one of these days. The thought makes me laugh and die inside.
“…three, two…”
My heart thumps one last beat and flops like a dead fish into the pit of my stomach. I take a swig of my drink right before the room shouts, “Happy New Year!”
Poppers explode, champagne glasses clink, and pairs start to kiss in every direction.
I should take my eyes off her; I don’t know if I’ll like what I see when it happens, but I can’t help but watch the hopeful look on her face, the excitement, the nerves. With the confetti falling around her, she’s never looked more beautiful. Who wouldn’t want to kiss that?
Zach meets her eyes, and now is the time to look away, but I’m a damn masochist, and I stare like a fool, half hoping she gets what she wants and half hoping she doesn’t.
Time slows, and my brow furrows the longer it takes for Zach to lean in. Candace’s hopeful grin falters, diminishing by the second. Pain and hurt and confusion all swirl in her expression in quick succession, one right after the other.
Still no kiss.
My blood runs wild under my skin, and the heart I thought was dead jumps to life. Suddenly I’m offended for her. No, beyond that. I’m angry. Angry that this guy won’t do a damn thing. Angry she’s put all this effort in for someone who doesn’t care. Angry he won’t deliver a kiss in the perfect setting, with the perfect girl.
He starts to turn from her. I push off the wall and set my flute down with so much force it tips over. I’m too determined to cross the room to see what damage I’ve done, squeezing through people, my heart thumping in my ears.
She’s going to get a kiss, damn it. She deserves a kiss, even if it comes from me.
My feet thud from hardwood floor to area rug, crunching against confetti and crinkle paper. Candace blinks slowly, her eyes growing a wall of tears as Zach turns completely away from her, heading from the fireplace to the kitchen. She swipes a hand quickly under her eye, rubbing the black mascara to her temple.
“Excuse me,” I grunt, still trying to get across the room. How did she navigate it so quickly? Or has time continued to make no sense?
I trip over the corner of the rug by the fireplace, making a sloppy entrance, but I don’t give a shit. My hands find her cheeks, turn her head, and without a chance to change my mind, I press my lips to hers.
A squeak of surprise escapes her throat, electrifying my nervous system. She tastes like cinnamon, her cheeks soft under my rough skin. The lightest touch zaps through my elbows, her fingers curling into my jacket.
I know I need to stop kissing her; I’ve given more than just a New Year’s kiss. But she’s warm and homey, and I want to dive in and stay. This is her jumping on the back of Gertrude, shooting me in the chest with a paintball, giving out presents to my sisters… all of that times ten. I don’t want to be rid of it. I don’t want to leave.
My thumb runs across her jaw, landing on her chin, coaxing her to open for me, and she does, but I don’t take advantage. I taste her breath on my lips and instantly transport to a euphoric state, a smile curling between us.
Time speeds up as quickly as it slowed earlier, and much too soon, I force myself to part from her, regretting it the second I do.
Her shoulders bob up and down, her hot breath raking over my chin. My own breath was lost somehow.
I swallow hard and take a step back, giving us both the air we need. My mind starts to clear from its haze, and suddenly I’m very much aware I kissed her in a room full of co-workers. Her brows go sky high, her voice under lock and key.
“Uh…” I stutter, reaching a hand behind my head to rub out the sudden awkwardness. “Happy New Year?”
Candace
The clock ticks over to two a.m. and there are still people in my house.
I grumble and grab an empty pizza box, shuffling through the back door to the trash can outside. I knew this might be a problem—people in my parents’ house way after midnight, but that doesn’t make it any easier for me to handle.
Snow falls in light patterns against the back porch light, and I shiver and rub the goosebumps out of my upper arms. I got kissed tonight, just like I wanted. It was world-changing and earth-shaking, and all the other adjectives used to describe an epic first kiss. All the romantic paintings in the world didn’t prepare me for it, and it’s been two hours and my legs are still shaking, my brain a pile of mush.
And it came from Pete.
Pete.
I touch my bottom lip, trapping a few snowflakes in the process. Is it ever going to stop tingling?
I barely noticed when Zach left. He gave me a hug that felt like a slight breeze compared to the hurricane of Pete’s earlier embrace in the bathroom. Did I get love so wrong? It wouldn’t surprise me if I had; I’m wrong about a lot of things. Zach’s appeal is slowly disappearing into a wisp of red smoke, joining the other wisps of crushes I’ve had.
His still burns brightly, but not for the reason I thought. It’s like he’s the one who painted a bright arrow pointing to the guy standing next to me.
I shake my head. Pete only kissed me out of pity. I was near tears when he surprised the heck out of me. Knowing him, he saw my sob-fest coming a mile away—or the few feet from where he stood.
Laughter billows out from behind me, and I take a deep breath and peek over my shoulder. I can’t decide what’s worse, the cold or having to entertain the people who won’t get the heck out of my house. I hate parties, and this night has not made my fear of them any less palpable.
A flutter runs under my skin. I’ve spent the last hour trying to figure out how I’ll handle people crashing here. I don’t know anyone well enough to trust them not to wander upstairs and pass out in one of the beds. I don’t know how much longer I’ll be able to keep my eyes open. And I don’t know if I can send anyone off if they’ve been drinking.
I know Pete will stay if I ask him to. He might poke fun at me, but he’ll stay. And that is just as scary as dealing with all these people by myself.
Another shiver runs up my spine, and I cringe against the stupid weather and head back inside where it’s stuffy but warm. I turn the corner toward the kitchen and jerk back with a gasp, nearly running into Pete wandering in the hallway.
“Don’t do that.” I smack his chest.
He shrinks against my touch and chuckles. “I’m just walking.”
“Too quietly.” I shrug past him, trying to ignore my tingling lips that got an extra buzz just by looking at him. “You scared the heck out of me.”
“Sorry.” He’s not. “Just letting you know Maddie’s ready to get going.”
I notice he only says his sister is ready, not that he is.
“Oh.” I frown. I haven’t decided if I want him to stay yet. Or even if I can phrase how I want him to stay. “You’re leaving?”
“She is my ride.”
The inside of my lip curls between my teeth, and I search for any reason other than the truth to get him to stay, but I come up empty. He leans in for a hug, since I guess that’s what we’re doing now when we say our goodbyes. I pat him on the back, the feel of his jacket reminding me of our kiss and short-circuiting my brain.
He pulls away and gives me the smallest of smiles.
“Will you sleep with me?” I blurt, stopping him in his retreating steps.
“Uh…” He lifts a brow and pretends to clean out his ear. �
��You wanna repeat that?”
No.
I cringe and laugh at my shoes. “I mean… will you spend the night, please?” Oh no, I feel a babble coming on and there is no stopping it. “There are just a lot of people still here, and I’m tired and want to go to bed, but I don’t want to tell everyone to get out if they’re too drunk to drive, but I also don’t want some creeper to come into my room and try to get frisky. I don’t want anyone trying to loot my parents’ house while I’m asleep. And I know sharing a bed with you is up there on my fear list, but all my other fears are trumping that one right now.”
He presses his lips together, amusement settling in his light brown eyes. “Take a breath, Candace.”
I exaggerate my breathing for his benefit instead of arguing with him. Whatever it takes to get him to stay.
“Do we need to share a bed?” he asks, his gaze lifting to the ceiling. “There are about a dozen rooms up there.”
“I don’t want to be alone.” I wring my hands together, twining my fingers in knots. “It’s a king-size. I’ll build a pillow fort between us. I know I’m supposed to be all tough right now, and this goes against all the stuff you’ve taught me, but I just…” I gulp and untie my hands. “Be my guard dog?”
He studies my face long enough for me to be super self-conscious about something in my teeth. I don’t know what he’s looking for—I’m being completely genuine, and I’m a little freaked out. All I want is sleep and to wake up to an empty house.
“Let me tell Mad.”
“You’ll stay?”
“If you build the pillow fort.”
“Done.” I know he’s teasing, but I don’t care. My shoulders relax, and I brush past him, letting him follow me to the main living room.
Tanner is passed out on my couch, Aislynn is in the recliner, and Tristan is face-down on the floor, confetti stuck to his eyebrow piercing.
Maddie and Josh are still up, playing a round of Slap Jack. When Pete walks in, she chucks her cards down, stands up, and stretches her arms sky high.
“You ready?”
Oh gosh, please don’t tell her you’re going to sleep with me.
“I think Candace would appreciate some help in the morning.” He eyes the confetti covered room, pizza plates and empty beer bottles and champagne glasses covering every flat surface. Should I let him know the staff will be here in the morning or will that make me sound like the spoiled rich girl I am?
“Sure… You’ll help Candace clean.” She says my name like it’s supposed to mean something, like I’m somehow more important than any other person in his life, which is real silly. It still makes my heart fly around my chest.
Pete chucks a crumpled napkin in her direction, which she dodges. “You gonna be okay to drive?”
“I stayed sober for you, dummy.” She shakes her head. “What a waste.”
“I could use a ride, then,” Josh pipes up from his spot on the floor. “If you don’t mind.”
“Where do you live?”
“Just a mile down the road from Troublemakers.”
“That’s doable.” Maddie steps over Tristan sprawled across the floor. “You got a ride to work tomorrow, Pete?”
Pete looks to me, and I nod. I’ll drive him to Canada if he wants as long as he keeps me safe while I sleep.
We walk them both out, and I eye the snow fall. It sticks to the grass, but the road still looks okay. Wet, but not icy. Maddie doesn’t seem concerned at all as she bounds down the steps and gives us a wave. Nerves bundle in my stomach, like a twisted strand of Christmas lights.
I invited Pete into a bed with me, and I’m not even going to take it back.
After we watch Maddie and Josh take off, Pete helps me shut off lights and lock up. He settles blankets over the snoozing party-goers, and I stifle a grin. He tucked me in on Christmas Eve, too.
My stairs don’t creak at all with our weight as we shuffle to the far bedroom, but I can hear his footfalls as clear as day, shaking that twisted knot of Christmas lights in my stomach with each step.
The room I pick is one of three with king beds. My parents have one, the room I use when we visit here hosts another, and then this one.
It’s by far the smallest of the king rooms, but that doesn’t mean I’m not hyper aware of the contrast between this and the room I spent the night in at his house. His bed was soft and smelled like him—mixed with that apple cinnamon air freshener, of course. This one is barely used. Actually, I don’t remember the last time someone slept in it. The duvet gets washed every week, so it only smells of detergent. A charging station sits on each nightstand, compatible with both kinds of phones. The connected bathroom has a barnyard sliding door my mom is obsessed with, so she puts one in any place she can.
The carpet is plush and white and barely stood on, so it has all its natural fluff. And Pete’s staring at it, standing just outside the door.
“You okay there?”
“Do I need to take my shoes off?” His nose wrinkles at the state of his shoes. I stifle a grin. This is why I hate the color white. It’s a deterrent for fun.
“You don’t wear shoes to bed, do you?” I tease, slipping out of my heels. I drop a good four inches, then I kick them haphazardly to the corner, trying not to worry that they aren’t in the closet or set aside in an organized manner.
He gives me a look, pushing a toe to his heel and shucking his shoes. He hooks two fingers in them and then grabs mine. With a pointed grin, he sets them nicely in the shoe bin just inside the closet.
“It’s scary how well you know me sometimes.” I flop on the edge of the bed. He crosses the room and flops next to me. It’s a king size, but he chooses to leave barely an inch between us. An electric current sparks to life all along my left side.
“So…” he says, “you got anything I can change into? Troublemakers doesn’t make the most comfortable pajamas.”
“Oh!” Duh, of course. He’s probably feeling so grimy, and this clean as heck room doesn’t help. I rush to the closet, smacking the light on and rummaging through. This isn’t the normal season for Mom and Dad to visit, so I know we won’t be stocked up on much. I find a t-shirt that might be a bit snug, but I come up empty on pants.
“You want to try this?” I ask. “I don’t know if I have anything besides jeans though…”
“I’ll use my boxers if you don’t care.”
My eyes drift down automatically, and I hurry and whip them to the ceiling. “Your… friend won’t pop out, will he?”
He lets out his signature laugh, but he’s either trying to be quiet or he’s too tired to use the same volume. “He’ll stay put.”
He gets up and takes the t-shirt from my hands, and I gulp with his chest so close. He’s so much taller than me, especially when I’m sans heels. He probably had a hard time bending over for a kiss.
I take a step back to clear my head. “You can change in here,” I tell him. “I’ve got stuff in another room. I’ll be right back.”
He salutes me and strips his jacket off. His tattooed arm catches my attention for so long that I don’t realize I’m staring until I hear the zipper of his jeans.
I shake my head and scurry out of there. Oh boy. I might have just made a huge whoopsie.
Candace
The air zaps and pings and pops with a current I can’t see in the blackness. I lie on my back, toying with my fingers as I listen to my breath mingle with Pete’s.
Our pillow wall is three pillows deep, two pillows high, and it’s still not enough to block out just how close he is.
“You awake?” Pete asks, and I let out a breathy croak.
“Oh yeah.”
The sound of skin against sheets fills the room. “Thought you were tired.”
“My brain won’t shut up.” Yep, it’s on an infinite loop of Pete in that tight white t-shirt and those black boxers, his hair an absolute mess, his eyes tired yet so full of life. His lips and slight scruff and the way they both felt against my skin. How I’m terrif
ied of something happening right now and equally terrified if something doesn’t happen.
Does he want me? Does Pete like me? Why in the world would he kiss me?
Around and around and around the thoughts go.
“Mine either,” he says, and I have to rewind to what the heck I said.
“What’s yours telling you?” I ask. Maybe his thoughts are easier to handle than mine.
He sighs. “That I should probably go home.”
“What?” I whip my head to face him, even though I can only make out the outline of the pillow wall. “Why?”
He takes a beat before answering. “What’s your number one fear, Candace?”
Oh gosh. He’s not thinking that, is he? That’s not what I meant by “sleep with me.” There goes my naivety again.
“Wait… you think we’re going to—”
“No.” He chuckles again, his nervous laughter floating around me.
“Then why do you think you should go?”
“I figured your fear of sex comes from a fear of being intimate with someone.”
“Yes.” That’s very true. But there’s also the fact I’ve never seen a penis. That I don’t know what to expect. That I don’t want to be that close with someone I don’t love. “And your point for how this relates to us right now with our pillow wall?”
He clears his throat, and I hear him shift on his side of the bed. “There’s more than one way to be intimate, Candace.”
“I’m not giving you a blow job.” I will shut that idea down right now. I barely know how his lips work, let alone anything else.
He growls, and I lift my head up to see his expression, but I can’t make out much in the darkness. Only that his hands are over his face, and he’s lying on his back, just like me.
“You really think I was asking for that?” he asks.
“No.” Kind of. “Not seriously, anyway.” Then what is he trying to say? My brain is so scrambled from his proximity. Usually I’m clear-headed around him, but then he had to go and kiss me.
“Candace… I know you see me a certain way. I don’t want to scare you.”
