The Bookworm Crush
Page 17
Dallas: We’re on for Wednesday night
Cool, Toff thumbed back. Can Viv keep it a secret from Amy?
Not happily, Dallas replied, but she will.
“Sweet!” Toff’s friends cheered as they watched a guy shoot through an epic barrel wave on the screen. The slow-motion replay might as well be porn for them. Toff missed surfing so much it physically hurt, even more than his injury.
Just a few more days stuck on land, he told himself. In the meantime, he’d focus his pent-up energy on Amy. He grabbed his phone and opened their message window, which was slowly filling up, unlike a week ago when it had been empty.
Toff: Weds night—you, me, McNerd, and Wordworm are going out to celebrate our awesome bookface results.
Toff hesitated after firing off the text, considering his next move.
He opened his YouTube app and found the P&P movie clip right away, the one with the broody Darcy dude helping Keira Knightly into the carriage. There were hundreds of comments about how intense and romantic those twenty-three seconds were. Toff rolled his eyes, but he played the clip, muting it so his bros wouldn’t give him crap.
The camera moved in for a close-up on their clasped hands like it was a huge deal. Maybe holding hands was back then.
Toff watched the clip a few more times. He had to admit those looks they gave each other were hot. When Darcy walked away, flexing his hand like he’d been zapped by electricity, Toff could relate. He was starting to feel zapped every time he was around Amy.
He hesitated, thumb hovering over the send arrow, then texted her the movie clip.
Toff: Watched your movie again. It didn’t suck.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
At the sound of Viv’s car horn beeping in the driveway, Amy stuck a bookmark in her current read—an old-school gothic romance full of angst and misunderstandings, set in a creepy castle on a cliff. It was over-the-top dramatic, and she loved it.
“Bye!” Amy called out to her parents, who were in the family room bingeing Stranger Things, trying to one-up each other on eighties trivia and debating whose childhood house looked most like the show’s sets.
“Bye!” called her mom. “Home by midnight!”
Amy stilled at the mention of her curfew. It had been almost two weeks since Toff had brought her home late, but she still didn’t trust Brayden not to rat her out. Then again, Toff had saved his butt at the grocery store. Brayden wouldn’t care if Amy got in trouble, but he’d duel to the death to save Toff.
“Hold on.” Amy’s dad paused the TV show and bustled into the kitchen. He handed her a plastic tub filled with lemon madeleine cookies. “These are for Toff.” Dad grinned. “I told you I was making extras for the Cupcake Kid. I hid them from Brayden or else your friend would be out of luck.”
Amy cringed at the emphasis he put on friend. “Please stop calling him that, Dad.”
“Friend? Or Cupcake Kid?” Dad wiggled his eyebrows. “What’s your Facebook status with this boy? Just friends? It’s complicated? In a relationship?”
“Daaad. Stop!” Laughing, Amy reached for the cookie container, but Dad held it out of her reach. “Toff can come inside, you know. So can your other friends. What’s the rush?”
“Stop it, Quinn,” Mom scolded, carrying two wineglasses into the kitchen. “Let her be.”
“Ooh.” Dad eyed the wineglasses and relinquished the tub of cookies to Amy. “I forgot to get out the cheese and crackers.” He opened the fridge and started digging through the cheese drawer.
Since Dad was distracted by food, Amy could escape. “No time for my friends to come inside,” she said. “The movie starts at seven thirty.”
“Be safe,” her mom said, refilling the wineglasses. “Curfew’s at—”
“Midnight,” Amy muttered. “I know.”
Do I ever.
…
Dallas stepped out of the MINI Cooper that Viv and her mom shared so Amy could climb into the tiny back seat. Toff was already there. Amy met his blue gaze, which was, as always, full of mischief. She knew he was coming, of course, since he was the one who’d texted her about tonight. But she hadn’t thought the transportation logistics through.
A sliver of panic sliced through her as she scoped out the tiny back seat. “I can drive,” Amy said. “We can take our minivan.”
Dallas glanced at his watch. He was the only person their age who wore one. “We don’t have time to switch,” he said. “Sorry.”
“Get in the car, yarn bomber,” Toff said, patting the seat.
So he was in that kind of mood. He must be feeling better.
“Let’s go, girl,” Viv said, leaning across the passenger seat. “I don’t want to miss the previews.”
Amy glanced at Dallas, whose green eyes blinked innocently behind his glasses. “He’s not doped up. Promise.”
Her eyes cut to Toff again, who pounded on the back of Viv’s seat like it was a bongo drum. He slanted Amy a grin, pausing his drum routine. “Come on, Ames. I’ll behave.”
Reluctantly, she maneuvered herself into the tight back seat. She tried to shrink her body into the corner, but her legs still brushed against Toff’s. Tonight he wore a long-sleeve Henley shirt with an AceWare logo and board shorts, as always.
“Not enough room? You can sit on my lap.”
His grin sent tingles shooting to all the wrong places. So much for him behaving.
“I wouldn’t want to hurt you.” She gestured vaguely toward his ribs. In the rearview mirror, Viv shot a warning look at Toff, but before she could say anything, Dallas piped up.
“Warp speed, Mr. Spock.”
“Aye, aye, Captain.” Viv gave Dallas a gooey smile and hit the gas.
Amy exhaled a deep sigh. They were disgustingly adorkable together.
Toff shook his head in mock disgust. “You two are so weird.”
Viv stuck out her tongue in the mirror. “You’re just jealous because you’ve never stayed in a relationship long enough to get to the celebrity role-playing stage.”
Toff snorted. “That’s not even a thing, Wordworm.”
“It is,” Viv argued. “You just don’t know about it.”
“What’s in there?” Toff asked, pointing to the plastic tub Amy clutched on her lap.
“Oh, um, here.” She handed it to him, cheeks heating. “My dad made them for you.”
Toff blinked in surprise. “More cupcakes?”
“No. Lemon madeleines.”
“What?” Viv yelped from the front seat. “Your dad made madeleines for Toff? I love those cookies!” She scowled at Toff in the rearview mirror.
Dallas turned around in his seat, reaching his hand out. “Fork ’em over, dude.”
“Mine,” Toff said, clutching the tub to his chest and making a little-kid face. Everyone laughed, and he relented, opening the tub and sharing his treats. “Wow,” he said after taking his first bite. “These are great. Tell your dad thanks.”
“Or you could tell him,” Viv said from the front seat, “if you were civilized instead of a caveman.”
“Caveman not share.” Toff made a grunting sound. “Caveman eat all the cookies.” He stopped grunting and held out the tub to Amy. “Caveman only share with sparkly redhead.”
Amy laughed and took another cookie, wishing she didn’t blush so easily.
As they drove up the coast toward the nearest town with a movie theater, the back seat of the MINI felt very…cozy. Viv and Dallas chattered in the front seat while Amy tried to not touch Toff, but he wasn’t making it easy.
“I’ve been keeping an eye on your Instagram and Twitter,” Toff said. “Our ship is still going strong.” His thigh bounced against hers, sending tingles up her leg. “But I noticed something’s missing.”
“Is this going to be a coach lecture?” she asked, moving her leg away from his.
“Let’s hear it, Coach. What’s missing?” She was proud of how unaffected she sounded by the streak of heat his fingertips sent shooting down her arm.
“A couple of things.”
Her shoulders stiffened defensively, and his fingertips brushed over her shoulder again. Was he trying to distract her? Soften her up before the coaching kill?
“First, you’re not using our awesome #BonnieandClyde hashtag. Second, you keep saying we’re just friends in your replies to people shipping us.”
Amy’s stomach flip-flopped. Where was he going with this?
“You are just friends,” Viv piped up from the front seat, shooting Toff a warning look over her shoulder.
“Back off, Wordworm. Keep your eyes on the road.”
“But she’s right,” Amy said. “We aren’t a…a…thing.”
Toff shrugged, tossing hair out of his eyes. “So what? You want to win, right?” His lips quirked. “Bonnie and Clyde forevah.”
Her mouth opened and closed like a fish. Toff doesn’t know he’s your secret crush, she told herself, praying it was true.
“He needs a ‘mute’ button,” Viv said to Dallas. “You’re a programming genius—can’t you make one?”
Toff grinned, eyes sparking. “The more eyeballs on us, the better, babe.”
Swagger. She needed it, right now.
“How many times do I have to tell you not to ‘babe’ me?” Flustered, Amy turned to look out the window, surprised to see they weren’t anywhere near the movie theater.
“Viv, are you lost?” she asked. “Where are we?”
The air went very still inside the tiny car as Viv, Dallas, and Toff darted anxious glances at one another, all of them avoiding eye contact with her.
Dallas cleared his throat. “Actually…we’re here.”
Viv zipped into a parking space in front of a neon sign on the building that read karaoke! all ages!
No. No, no, no.
“I’m not doing this,” Amy whispered. “Please.” She gave Viv a pleading look. “Let’s go to a movie. Anything but this.” She turned to Toff. “This was your idea, wasn’t it?”
He nodded, looking as proud as the peacock on her favorite Pride and Prejudice book cover.
“Why?” She was ready to fire her coach, for real this time.
“To get over your fear of public speaking.”
Omigod. “Singing isn’t public speaking, Toff. It’s a zillion times worse.”
Toff’s brow furrowed. “You knew winning wouldn’t be easy, right? You’re gonna have to up your game for the final challenge, Ames.”
Great. He’d launched into coach mode. Anxiety and frustration simmered in Amy’s chest. So much for tonight being a celebration. Her coach had tricked her. Not cool.
“This happens all the time in surfing,” Toff continued, oblivious to her desire to throttle him. “Everybody pushes their hardest, and the bar is constantly getting raised in each heat. Like in your contest challenges.”
Scowling, Amy crossed her arms over her chest. “And you always move up to the next heat.”
He shrugged. “Almost always.”
Dallas turned around in his seat and shot Toff a look that only an idiot would misread.
“What?”
“Maybe shut up for a minute, moron,” Dallas snapped, darting Amy a sympathetic look. He shot another glare at Toff. “I think you forgot tonight is a celebration.”
“Sorry, Ames.” Toff ducked his head, looking chagrined. He offered an apologetic smile and lifted his hand for a high five. “You’re doing great so far. Gimme some heat.”
Flustered, she high-fived him, her hand slamming onto his with as much heat as she could bring. He interlaced his fingers with hers and squeezed her hand, sending a shimmer of sparks straight to her chest.
“You can do this,” he said, his intense energy almost convincing her she could. “I know you can.”
“You don’t have to go first,” Dallas said.
“You can watch other people,” Viv chimed in. “Once you see how terrible they are, it won’t be so scary.” She grinned. “It’ll be fun! And we’re all here to support you.”
“Especially your coach,” Toff said, releasing her hand.
“A heads-up would’ve been nice, Coach,” Amy said. She wished she’d never agreed to this “celebration,” but it was too late. Coach Flipper had made his move, and she couldn’t escape.
…
Toff studied Amy from across the table they shared with Dallas and Viv in the karaoke bar.
He’d messed up. Dallas had reamed his ass out in the parking lot while Amy and Viv went in and got a table, and now he felt like shit. He hadn’t realized Amy would freak so hard. He’d figured she wouldn’t be thrilled, but he thought if Dallas and Viv were there, she’d relax.
So far, she hadn’t.
Not his greatest coaching move.
Amy’s hands fluttered like bird wings, playing with her long red curls, rolling up a paper napkin on the table, her fingers drawing in the condensation on her soda glass.
Viv and Dallas watched a woman on stage belt out a kick-ass rendition of Stevie Wonder’s “My Cherie Amour.” It was an ancient song his dad liked, but this lady made it sound new.
Toff grabbed a handful of tortilla chips from the basket on the table, willing Amy to look at him, but she wouldn’t. He struggled to reconcile the sweet, quiet bookworm who was Viv’s shadow with the girl he’d rescued from the sheriff who’d fake-flirted like a champ, with the girl who got all up in his face, giving as good as she got.
When she got fired up, it was like a light bulb went off inside her. Her eyes got all shiny. Her cheeks turned pink and even her hair seemed to glow. It was impossible to look away when she was wound up, which was why he kept poking and teasing. Pushing. She just needed someone to ignite the spark, and she’d light up the whole room. Win the contest.
Amy’s tongue swept over her lips, and a jolt of a different type of awareness kicked through him.
The audience cheered and clapped as the singer took a bow, and Dallas and Viv returned their attention to Amy.
“Are you ready?” Viv asked.
Amy shrugged and bit her lip. Toff told himself to stop staring at her mouth like a freak.
“I…” Her shoulders lifted, then sagged. “You guys, I can’t do this.” She glanced at Toff, and he forced himself to look at her eyes instead of her mouth.
“It wasn’t a bad idea,” she said, keeping her gaze on him. “For anyone else it would probably work. I mean, I sing in the car, right?” She forced a nervous laugh and glanced toward the stage. “But standing up there…I just can’t.”
“I’ll do it with you,” Toff blurted, surprising everyone at the table, including himself.
“What?” Amy blinked at him, and even in the darkened club, he could see her cheeks go pale. Uh-oh. She was flipping straight into panic mode like she had in his van that night.
He couldn’t watch her backslide. She’d started to build up her confidence in the short time he’d been coaching her. He reached out and put his hand on top of hers.
“I’m your coach, remember?” He kept his voice steady, soothing, like it didn’t bug him that she’d recoiled from his touch. “Also costar and backup singer.”
“You—you’d sing with me?”
She sounded surprised, which pissed him off. Hadn’t he proven how far he’d go to help her out? With the sheriff? With her brother? Posing for all those photos?
He quashed his frustration. She was nervous. Scared. He’d dealt with that plenty of times at surf comps, helping younger surfers relax. H
e needed to try a different strategy. She was the girl who hated his scary faces.
“You can do this, Ames. You’re as good as anybody else in here.” He had no idea if she could sing, but it didn’t matter. What mattered was her believing in herself. Getting up on the stage and pushing through her fear. She needed this small taste of being in the spotlight.
“C’mon. I’ll do it if you will,” Toff said. He wasn’t a rock star, but he sang in his van, in the shower, out on the water waiting for a wave to come in.
Toff glanced at Viv, who narrowed her eyes at him. Why did she always think he was up to no good?
“What?” he demanded. “You don’t think I can do it?”
“I know you can,” Dallas piped up. “A duet’s a great idea. What do you think, Amy? Just keep your eyes on us the whole time, and you’ll be fine.”
Toff tilted his chin at Dallas. At least one of his friends thought he was a good coach. He stood and held out his hand.
“Let’s do this.” He grinned, keeping his gaze locked on hers. “It won’t be as scary as outrunning a raccoon.”
…
Amy stood next to Toff as he flipped through the binder of song choices. This was crazy. Absurd. Terrifying. Why had she agreed to this? She knew exactly why—because Toff had hypnotized her with those big blue eyes, then tugged her by the hand, his fingers warm and strong around hers, and she’d lost the ability to be rational.
Crushes were a curse, shutting down brain cells, derailing plans. That’s what Viv had said when she’d tried to pretend she wasn’t crushing on Dallas…although that had turned out well. Really well.
“How about this one?” He pointed to a song title, and she squinted to read it in the dark. “I Got You Babe” by Sonny and Cher.
“They used to have some TV show years ago, right?”
Toff shrugged. “No clue.”
“I don’t know the song.” Even if she did, no way was she singing anything that had “babe” in the lyrics.
“This one.” He pointed at “You’re the One That I Want” by John Travolta and Olivia Newton-John from Grease. Was he trying to embarrass her? It was like he could read her mind and knew exactly how she felt about him and was forcing her to sing her true feelings.