by Ward, Susan
Oh. I remember him. He was at the beach yesterday. Cute. Brown hair. Brown eyes. Nice body. Yellow surfboard. Kind of shy. I don’t recall him talking to anyone.
Zoe stares at him. She sighs. “I’ve been trying to get him to ask me out for weeks. He doesn’t seem to get the hints I drop. So I’m on to a new strategy. Chatting up his best friend—i.e. Seth—to see if that gets him to make a move.” Her mouth scrunches up. “So far not working.”
I smile at her. “Well, I’m glad you’re not into Seth, and he’ll come around.”
Zoe smiles in return. “It’s kind of sweet that you’re trying to look out for me. I’ve never had a girlfriend have my back before. It’s nice.”
I nod. “Well, you’ve got one now.”
“And I’ll always have your back, Kaley. If you ever need me to.”
We cross the quad to Bobby’s table crowded with guys and everything inside me rejoices when I see he’s left a spot next to him for me.
It doesn’t surprise me that he’s surrounded by a mob when I used to think he was such a loner. He’s walked me to every class today. Just showing up randomly, waiting in the halls for me after the bell. By fourth period, the twenty Facebook friends makes sense, and so does his unexpected popularity.
He’s cool to everyone, and everyone likes him. He’s class valedictorian—that one was a fucking shocker—but a loner by choice, above the standard high school bullshit politics, and people like him anyway.
I set my shake and fries on the table, then slip down on the bench the way Bobby is sitting. He’s straddling it and his arm comes around me, easing me back against his chest.
I fiddle with a ketchup packet, fight to look casual about this public display of whatever—which is hard because everyone at the table is watching us and only pretending not to—and I struggle to find my way into the current conversation.
Zoe turns her head to face me.
She gives me the look, the girl-chat look, and leans in to me in a way that tells me I need to ease toward her so she can whisper.
I don’t want to.
I can tell Zoe isn’t going to be the least bit stealthy about this.
“I’ll always have your back, too, Kaley,” she whispers into my ear. “If you ever need me to. Which I don’t think you will. Because you’ve landed the most popular guy on campus in two days by being a total bitch. God, you are my idol.”
CHAPTER 8
One month later…
My phone vibrates.
I carefully move it to my lap and open the text. I angle my body in the seat to read it.
Bobby: Lunch?
Me: Yep.
Bobby: On campus or off?
Me: Off. Meet me at your car.
I feel a heavy stare on me and tuck my phone into the fabric of my skirt.
“You’re supposed to be writing in your senior journal, Miss Stanton. Put away the phone or I’ll take it.”
I look up to smile at Mr. Wyatt. I grab my pen and nod.
After a moment, the teacher slouches in his chair and buries his nose back in his book.
I lay my head on my desk, using my arm as a pillow, and stare at the blank page in front of me. I haven’t written very much in it since Bobby and I became a couple.
I scrunch up my lips, moving them side to side, as I contemplate what I want to write. I’m trying to think a lot of stuff through right now, but I just don’t know if I want to write about it…
It’s kind of nice having a boyfriend. Never expected that one since before Bobby the hard and fast rule was ‘stay clear of all guys.’ I was wrong about that one. You don’t have to stay clear of the good guys, though it does kick up a lot of high school drama that I so wasn’t expecting.
Bobby and I have been pretty much inseparable since that morning in my car when he first kissed me. Why does everyone on campus watch us so much? Crap, the kids watch everything here, and make so much more of what they see than they should. It’s not like we’re such an interesting couple to watch. We don’t walk around all goo-goo-eyed like the other couples at school. He kisses me but we don’t suck face in the hallways like the gross couples do. I would find us boring to watch.
It’s been pretty freaking wonderful being Bobby Rowan’s girlfriend. I kind of feel like I fit in here now. He takes me everywhere with him. I am not completely able to insulate myself from my changing emotions or my slowly changing opinion on guys. Probably because Bobby is a really good guy who I’ve grown to respect. He said he wasn’t into games and drama and he isn’t. He calls when he says he’s going to, he texts me all through the day, he is never critical or controlling with me in front of others the way some of the jerks here are with their girlfriends—like that makes them so alpha male…not!—and I can always depend on him. He is more intelligent, more thought-provoking and just plain more nice than any of the other hot guys on campus.
He always treats me with respect. I wouldn’t put up with anything less, even if it is starting to wear on me because I’m really getting tired of him maintaining the balance of that in-between thing—really hot for each other but not fucking. Oh, we’ve done a lot of stuff physically, but not that. For a month he hasn’t even tried to get across that line with me.
What’s up with that? I find it frustrating and it definitely is keeping me off-balance since he never actively urges me toward going all the way.
So frustrating. It’s like being in another limbo state in my life, because I’m pretty sure he’s the one I’m going to give it up to. I guess if it’s going to happen, I’m just going to have to be the one who bags him.
Yep, I’m ready. My first time is going to be with Bobby and it better be soon. Like, really soon.
Not that we don’t have fun together without the sex thing. He takes me to parties. We cruise the streets of Hollywood on his bike. We go to dance clubs and rocker haunts. I watch him surf and work out. He tags along while I film documentaries, and we talk for hours on the phone when I’m home—I’m so glad he’s a talker, not a text fanatic—even if he’s spent the entire day with me.
He is wicked smart, current and well-informed on the national and world news fronts. He is certainly better traveled than I am. He is one of the few people I’ve met with enough mental substance to keep me intellectually stimulated. Yep, even his smarts are a turn-on. Jeez, he can talk about anything, when most high school guys never have anything interesting to say. He’s the most popular guy on campus and he isn’t the least bit competitive about that.
I’m the one with the competitive personality. After our first argument, in fear of losing on the substantive points, I decided to win the argument the old-fashioned way: I devolved the conversation into something nearing phone sex. From that point on, I just started shifting our nightly conversations into a sexual vein since he seemed willing to go along with it. I was the one who started the sexting first, and I am the one who keeps pushing the line of what we do sexually in the pool house together.
It’s sweet that Bobby seems OK with respecting the status of our relationship, never pushing for an upward change in the level of seriousness physically but, heck, this girl is ready to do him.
It’s happening, this week, if I can figure out how to get Chrissie to let me take off for five days for the couples’ Santa Cruz trip Bobby has got planned over the Thanksgiving break. Mom isn’t at all cool like Linda Rowan.
Christ, maybe I should just tell Mom that I’m going to Zoe’s again. Less hassle, though it is a lie and I hate lying. Chrissie might prove me wrong, be cool if I tell her the truth. She might not even question the Santa Cruz thing.
She is definitely preoccupied lately. Injecting Linda Rowan into her carefully constructed universe seems to have propelled my mom out of her limbo stage. It’s nice that she’s being social again. She’s going out a lot. I’m pretty certain she’s dating, which is kind of bizarre, since with everything that’s happened this past year I expected her to get back with Alan, especially since they are both single at the sam
e time, but no, haven’t seen him.
Whatever my mom is up to has diluted her focus to a point where I am gone more nights than home with hardly any questioning. “Off to Zoe’s” is all I have to say and that pretty much is all it takes.
Still, it bothers me that Chrissie doesn’t seem to notice that I’ve changed. I’m less angry, less resentful about being forced to move to Pacific Palisades, and I’m definitely less involved in my websites and the home front.
I’ve always been close to Mom and it sucks that she hasn’t noticed that something pretty fucking special is going on with me…
The bell rings and I slap shut my journal. I shove my junk into my tote and spring from my desk.
As I hurry down the hallway, I wave at the people calling out to me, but I keep going toward the parking lot.
When I get to Bobby’s car, the top is already down on his Aston Martin, classic Aerosmith is blasting from the speakers, and he’s sitting on the trunk talking with Jake and Zoe.
I bite back a smile. It took weeks of truly obvious girl-world antics to make it happen, but they are finally dating. Maybe after Santa Cruz they’ll be a couple. I hope so. Zoe is a great girl and Jake, for all that he doesn’t talk much, is a pretty awesome guy.
“Finally,” Zoe says in a heavily exasperated way when she sees me.
“My thoughts exactly,” Bobby adds, pulling me up against him.
“Pardon me for having to actually wait until after the bell to meet up,” I tease, since Bobby and Zoe work as office assistants fourth period and can pretty much cut out whenever they want to, and somehow Jake ended up without a fourth period.
Bobby leans in slowly, very slowly, but stops with my mouth so close to his that it feels like we’re touching but we’re not. Not being kissed by him is glorious torture, unexpectedly hot, especially with the change in his breathing and the look in his eyes.
“I’m not complaining,” Bobby says, a smile rising to his eyes. “Some things are worth the wait.”
Yep, not being kissed by him may be even sexier than being kissed by him—and he’s an incredible kisser. As for that worth the wait comment, my eager body plugs immediately into the countless ways I can interpret that.
I stare at him until I can’t take the suspense any longer, then I lean in with my lips because I want him more than I’ve ever wanted anything.
He eases back before contact. “You did clear it with Chrissie to take off on Wednesday, didn’t you?”
I nod slowly. It’s only a little lie—I plan to clear it with my mom when I get home today. No more stalling. And if I panic, I’ll just do an I’m off to Zoe’s for the holidays.
As soon as I answer, he’s completely still. “You haven’t, have you?” he accuses impatiently.
Damn, how does he know?
I crinkle my nose. “I’m going. I wouldn’t make you go girlfriendless on a couples’ road trip.”
“You better not,” he warns.
A thrill runs through me. The way he says that makes me wonder if he’s got something planned for me. Hallelujah. Maybe my nun status is soon to be over.
“Not a chance,” I whisper, my voice low and throaty. “I’ve got plans for you, Bobby Rowan.”
I weave both hands through his hair until I’m holding the back of his head and kissing him deeply. I’ve lost count of how many times we’ve kissed over the past month, but every time the feeling changes into something more intense, like nothing I’ve ever experienced.
I grab on tightly as my mouth plunders his because I’ve had enough of our in-between status, and by his quick response I’m pretty sure he has, too. It isn’t long before we’re kissing a little more frantic and needy than ever before, and I can feel the tension in his body matches my own. I know, just know, this week is the week I give myself to him.
“Crap, can you two get a room or stop flirting with each other or cut the rest of the day and finally do it?” Zoe exclaims, frustrated and not the least bit tactful. “I’m hungry. We only have an hour. Let’s bail.”
We break the kiss and we’re both breathless and laughing.
I’d forgotten about Zoe and Jake.
Bobby turns me in his arms until I’m leaning back against his chest, facing them, and it isn’t until I feel the hardness in his shorts that I realize he’s using my body as a shield.
“Where does everyone want to go?” Bobby asks.
“I don’t care,” Zoe says. “Food. At this point, anything.”
I look over my shoulder at Bobby. “Let’s go to the Kettle.”
“That’s a thirty-minute drive. I’ll never get you back in time for fifth period and you can’t afford another pink slip. Eventually the dean will do something to you if you keep racking them up.”
“I don’t care. You’ve got the top down. It’s a sunny day. Perfect for a drive up the coast.”
Zoe rolls her eyes. “Bobby’s car has only two seats. That means we’ll have to take separate cars. You’re not the least bit subtle, Kaley. Do you know that? If you want to cut out on us, then cut out.”
“Nope. I just want to take separate cars today.” I give her a stare, heavy with meaning, since the separate cars thing is good for her, too. “Meet us at the Kettle. OK?”
She stares and doesn’t move.
Fuck, she didn’t clue in my look to her at all.
Her expression says she wants to argue.
A fast glance at Jake tells me he knows exactly what I’m maneuvering here and is all for it.
Christ, do I have to do everything for her?
“Separate cars,” I repeat heavily. It doesn’t feel like Bobby’s erection is going away anytime soon.
Not without help.
My heart tempo ticks up.
My cheeks warm.
“You guys better not ditch us,” Zoe says intensely.
“No ditching,” I state pointedly. “Go.”
I bite my lower lip and struggle to hold myself still when all I really want is to brush my backside against Bobby’s crotch.
I move my butt just a hair against him. I feel his cock jerk, and I sink my teeth harder into my lip.
I love taunting him.
Being taunted by him.
By the feel of him, it won’t take much pushing to get him to end the torture. And if he makes his move today, to hell with Santa Cruz. I’m going to cave. A body can only take so much without relief. And it’s been a month of burning, ragged anticipation.
I can’t even imagine what it’s going to be like to have sex with him.
Despite my efforts not to smile as I wait for Zoe to figure this one out, I do it anyway.
“Nope,” she smirks. “Not subtle at all.”
CHAPTER 9
We roll to a stop at the exit of the school parking lot and Bobby looks left toward the coast highway, the direction Jake went with Zoe, and my heart sinks.
Oh damn.
Maybe we are going to the Kettle for lunch. I’ve never been more disappointed in my life to get my way. How did Bobby misread my not-so-subtle hints to Zoe?
He makes a sharp turn right.
I start to laugh as we whiz up the road toward his house.
“Jerk,” I tease.
A twinkle fills his eyes. “No, not a jerk. I waited until Jake was out of sight before I changed directions. I don’t want them following us.”
A smile spreads across Bobby’s face and it’s so damn sexy all I want to do is kiss him. Instead, I lay my head on his shoulder, curling into his arm over the center console.
“Pretty sly, Bobby Rowan.”
“I am if this works. I love Zoe, but sometimes shaking her is like trying to shake gum from your shoe.”
I laugh and kiss his arm.
There is no need to ask what he’s planning. Bobby is pulsing with tension. My fingers move lower and he stops me before I can brush him there.
We turn down the service alley behind his house and he parks, his car hidden from view by the back fence.
“A
re you sure you want to skip lunch?” His eyes pin me and a thrill runs across my flesh. “You drive me out of my mind when you look at me the way you did crossing the parking lot. All glowing and smiling and happy to see me. It gave me a fucking hard-on before you even touched me. You know if we go to my room you’re skipping the rest of the day, don’t you? You’re staying here until you have to go home.”
I nod. He climbs from the driver’s seat, comes around the car, opens my door and takes my hand.
He guides me to the gate and punches in a code to open the gardeners’ entrance.
I watch him click it softly closed behind us. “Pretty convenient thing that back gate. Something tells me you’ve done this before, Bobby.”
He slants me a look. “Is that what you think?”
The gaze he fixes on me instantly quashes the giddiness that’s claimed me since leaving school.
Fuck, I’ve pissed him off.
I shrug in a way that I hope looks indifferent, but a blush creeps onto my cheeks. “Let’s not do that thing where we tell each other every detail about our past sexual experiences. I so don’t want to know how many girls you’ve been with.”
We stand in the far side of the yard, staring into each other’s eyes, both of us weirdly frozen when only a moment ago we’d been racing toward the pool house, hot for each other.
I shift my gaze to the ground. “Can we just do this? I don’t want to fight.”
“Nope, not letting that one go,” he whispers. “I’m not some asshole jerk player. You should know that by now. And if we can’t be honest with each other about everything, then what’s the point in going any farther, Kaley? I’d rather turn around now and drive you back to school. And you brought it up, the sexual history question. I’m going to answer you and if you’re cool with my answer, then we can see where we go from there. Agreed?”
Fighting to insulate myself against his change of mood, I nod, and when he lifts a brow I say, “Yes,” but it comes out harsh and petulant.
“I’ve done a lot of things sexually. I won’t lie to you about that. I’m as into sex as any guy.”
