Dating Trouble (Grover Beach Team Book 5)

by Katmore, Anna

  “And God willing, I never will. Please, go get Ethan now and stop wasting my time.”

  Chris laughed again. It was so loud I had to pull the phone away from my ear. “All right, you win. But tell you what,” he said. “If it doesn't work out between you and Ethan, which I know it won’t, you let me take you on a date. Deal?”

  There was only one answer to give. “When hell freezes over.”

  His voice turned serious—too much so for the next line to pass as a casual remark. “That happens more often than you think, sweetness.”

  An odd chill started at the back of my neck and spread way down into my limbs. The strangest thing was, the chill didn’t feel at all uncomfortable.

  I heard some rustling at the other end of the line, a knock, and the faint sound of a door being opened. “Call for you,” Chris said, but from a distance now. More rustling and a smack followed.

  “Hello?” Ethan said moments later. I wondered if Chris had tossed him the phone.

  “By the way, she said thanks for the latte!” I could hear Chris’s last comment, followed by his chuckle and a door slamming shut.

  “Hi, Ethan. It’s me. Susan.” I felt so awkward I could burn a hole in my chair from embarrassment.

  “Hey, Susan,” he said, with surprise ringing all the way from his house to mine. A moment of silence passed. Then a deep breath—my breath—and finally a laugh from the other end. “You’re welcome.”

  I frowned at the stack of books on my desk. “Welcome for what?”

  “For the latte. I guess it’s what you ordered at Charlie’s yesterday, right?”

  “Um, well. Yeah.” Charlie’s… Did I have to apologize now? But how could I have known they were twins? They were the ones who had messed around with me. Heck, Ethan should have figured all that out way before me—before I made a complete idiot of myself. “It’s not my fault that you have a twin, Charlie Brown,” I blurted out and rose from my chair. Walking to the window, I gazed at the street below.

  “Ah, so it’s mine?” Ethan laughed at me, the same sweet sound I’d heard from his brother a minute ago. “I don’t see how exactly I could have prevented that from happening.”

  “You could have tried in an embryonic stage.”

  “And kick my brother out of my mom’s womb? Yeah, I would have liked that.”

  “You could have told me,” I said a little calmer now, but more sulkily, and swirled around, facing my room instead of the sun outside.

  “There was no reason to. It usually doesn't come up as the first thing I say when talking to a cute girl.”

  He thought I was cute? I squeezed my eyes shut and suppressed a silly little squeal. My hand curled so tightly around the phone, I was surprised it didn't crack.

  “Susan? Are you there?”

  “Um, yeah. Yeah, of course.” Dammit, he’d heard the smile in my voice. It made him chuckle.

  “Hey, I was thinking…” he drawled, and all I heard was: Go out with me, go out with me! “Maybe you want to hang out a little. Today. You know, to make good for standing me up yesterday.” There was a teasing note in his voice.

  When I said nothing—because, frankly, I was too giddy from his request—he continued, “I can come over to your place, if you’d like that. Or you can come over to mine.”

  It was five o’clock, my mom was home, and my dad would be here in another ten minutes. They hadn’t had a chance to finish the fight that started yesterday with Dad’s call about coming home late, so that would be flashing over our house like a sign of doom for the rest of the evening. I didn’t want Ethan to get here and find himself in the middle of my daily horror show.

  “I think I’ll come to yours. My folks are a little busy tonight.” I hurried across the room, tripped over my own feet in my excitement, which was spreading throughout my entire body, and fell against the door. My cell dropped to the floor with a clang. Crap!

  Picking up the phone and wildly cursing at myself in a voiceless stream of f-words, I heard Ethan’s laugh. “Susan? Did you just hurt yourself?”

  Rubbing my head, I moaned, “Only a little.” Maybe I’d pop a chill pill before I left. Stumbling around his house this way was not an option for making up for our missed first date. “Give me your address, and I’ll be there in ten.”

  I jotted down his addy in the back of Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, which was the first thing I grabbed in my current state of mega-nervousness. After I hung up, I went downstairs to ask my mom for her car.

  “Where are you going?”

  “To Ethan’s.”

  “Be home by seven.” She lifted her finger in my face with the keys dangling from her hand. “And no forgetting about it again!” She only said that because of my excited flush.

  “Promise.” I crossed my heart and headed out with one last check of myself in the mirror. My hair was in a perfect ponytail, skin a healthy pink—too pink—no leftovers from lunch between my teeth, and there were no stains of any sort on my light green tee. Ethan, here I come!

  Taking a deep breath, I sank behind the wheel of my mom’s car and stalled the engine twice before I got my nervous foot to dose the gas just right to drive off. Now I knew why the girls all had anxiety attacks before their first dates. Not that this was really a date, it was merely hanging out with Ethan. Alone. At his place. A snicker escaped me, which didn’t matter because no one was there to call me a nutcase. Heck, I was so going to title this a date later when I called Sam and told her everything about it.

  Ethan’s house, though small and squeezed in between equally sized bungalows, was easy enough to find. They didn’t have an exclusive drive or a garage to park their cars, but from where I stood, the white bungalow with the dark brown roof, windows, and door looked cozy and inviting. And my CD was playing somewhere in that house. A smirk slipped to my lips. I rang the doorbell and waited while the first line of Ode to Joy played out, drowning out my music.

  When the door opened, I found myself face to face with a woman who looked set to run me over like a bus. She pushed her arms through the sleeves of a beige trench coat, slipped into a pair of black pumps, flicked her amber hair over her shoulder, gave me a smile, and slid the strap of her purse up her arm, all at the same time.

  “Hello, sweetie, what can I do for you?”

  Uh, did I look like a Girl Scout trying to sell cookies? I swallowed, feeling the nervous pit in my stomach again. “I’m Susan. Is Ethan home?” Immediately, I wanted to slap myself for that question. He was listening to my music and he’d told me to come over not fifteen minutes ago, so of course he was home. But honestly, what else was I to say?

  “Yes, he’s in his room.” She shouted over her shoulder, “Ethan!” Then she grabbed a scarf that was way overdoing her attire considering there was just a light breeze today, but it complemented her outfit, which had me thinking she was going to an important meeting. She left me standing in the entrance, excusing herself. Obviously, she was running late.

  The door slammed shut behind me, but there was no sign of Ethan. In fact, the music was all that was to be heard for the next twenty seconds. I felt a little stupid being left alone in this house and considered walking outside to ring the bell once more. Eventually, I shook my head and tracked the sound down the hallway to the back of the house.

  There were two doors next to each other at this part of the bungalow. One of them must lead to Chris’s room. A shudder skittered down my spine at the memory of our chat on the phone. Luckily, it wasn’t hard to tell from which room the music was coming, so I knocked on that door and when no one answered, I hesitantly entered. No wonder Ethan didn’t hear me. The loud music blasted away my every thought as soon as I opened the door.

  Sprawled in a comfy chair close to the wide, square window that must be overlooking their garden, Ethan was reading what looked like a textbook for Spanish class, because there was a smiling boy wearing a sombrero and shouting HOLA! in a speech balloon on it. Immediately, drool formed in the corner of my mouth beca
use, oh my freaking Jesus, he was wearing sweats. Only sweats—totally with nothing on top and no shoes or socks either. He knew I would be coming, so was he doing this on purpose to set my heart in a flutter for a greeting? If so, he’d totally succeeded.

  Ethan didn’t hear my hoarse “hi,” nor did he notice me standing in his room. I had to reopen and slam the door to get his attention, but when he looked up, his lips formed a smile. Not instantly. It took him a couple of seconds to get rid of that frown, so I guessed the textbook was really captivating and I’d just ripped him out of some serious studying for finals or something.

  Ethan didn’t say anything. It wouldn’t make much of a difference anyway with the volume turned up like he was trying to give a bunch of aliens a signal. He rose from his chair, put his textbook away, and lowered the volume of the music, his eyes glued on me all that time.

  When the room was quiet enough for us to hear our own voices, I said rather fast because of my nerves as I gushed over his toned body, “Um, hi. Sorry for breaking into your room…sort of.” I shrugged. “Your mom let me in.”

  Ethan came toward me—slowly, I’d like to add, like some sort of tiger on a prowl. He still said nothing, so I blabbered on, and not only because it gave me something to do other than staring at his oh-so-naked chest where a set of two silver chains glinted. “She called you but with that noise fending off the cats and dogs of the neighborhood, I get it that you didn’t hear—”

  Ethan placed his hand over my mouth, cutting me off mid-sentence. He put his index finger in front of his lips in a sexy shh gesture. The urge to plant a kiss on his palm took hold, but I managed to resist. What would that have made me look like? A horny dork?

  His blue eyes raked over me for a moment, and all I could do was swallow hard. What was his plan? Maybe his brother was napping next door and he didn’t want to wake him.

  Yeah, sure, with the music blasting the roof away just a second ago.

  My ragged breath was dampening the back of his hand as I tried to keep from swooning by breathing deeply through my nose.

  Ethan took his hand away from my lips. “I didn’t expect you to jump at my offer so fast…especially after you turned me down so mercilessly on the phone.”

  What in the world— My brows furrowed to a baffled V, then it dawned on me and I groaned. “Nooo. Chris?”

  “The very same.” His smug grin pricked my nerves like little needles.

  “Why are you listening to my CD?”

  “I could tell you, but you might not like the answer.”

  I dared him to explain with my lifted eyebrows.

  Chris leaned a little closer and said softly in my ear, “Because you gave it to me.”

  The guy was driving me up a wall. I wanted to knock myself unconscious with a hammer, but maybe that was a bad idea, considering I stood in the door of Don Juan’s room. Not only equipped with the body of the infamous seducer, Chris clearly had the ego to match.

  “That, as well as my number,” I growled, keeping a lid on my anger, “you should have passed on to Ethan. Why didn’t you?”

  He twirled a swath of my hair around his finger, almost stroking my cheek with the move. “I wanted to learn what taste you have in music, so I know what to put on when we make out on my bed.”

  I smacked his hand away. “In case you haven’t figured it out all by yourself, let me make it clear now: You have a screw loose. More importantly, it’s considered rude to hit on someone who actually came to see your brother.”

  “Why? You think he’ll be mad?” His mouth curved up. “You think he’ll date you?”

  Well, he invited me over and called whatever we missed yesterday a date. So, yes, I was under the impression, which is why I came over today. What I said out loud, though, was, “Why, don’t you?”

  Chris stroked his chin with his thumb and index finger. “In fact, I think I’ll just watch for a while and let myself be entertained by how things go from here.” He winked at me, grabbed my shoulders, and spun me to face the door. As he leaned around from behind to open it, I caught a whiff of mint that must have been his breath way close to my face. Steering me out into the hallway and to the left, he opened the other door and gently pushed me into the room.

  The exact copy of the guy behind me, only dressed in a washed-out, green t-shirt and actual jeans, sat on the bed in the corner playing some video games. When he looked up and saw me, his mouth stretched into an immediate smile.

  “You’ve got a visitor,” Chris taunted and moved me farther into the room. He let go and left without another word, but erupted into fits of laughter on the way out.

  I shut the door behind him and dropped against it, releasing a long exhale and making a mental note to never again enter the room on the left in this hallway.

  “Hey there, you okay?” Ethan asked and got off his bed, walking toward me with a puzzled frown.

  “Mm-hmm.” I nodded but still felt too shaky to leave my safe spot by the door. Now I couldn’t hang out with Ethan ever again without imagining that exact same six-pack on him that Chris had displayed. Crap.

  “You look a little out of breath.”

  “I walked into the wrong room.”

  “Why?”

  “Why do you think?” I folded my arms over my chest and scowled, blaming him for misleading me. “He’s playing my music. Why did you give him the Volbeat album?”

  Ethan laughed at me as he parked his butt against the corner of his desk, gripping the edge. “I didn’t. You did.”

  Jeez, could these guys stop rubbing it in already? “But only so he’d give it to you.”

  “Well, he refused to. At least he’s playing it loud enough that I can listen, too.”

  As if that was his cue, Chris turned up the music in his room again. We could hear it at a low volume through the wall. “See?” Ethan flashed a brilliant half-smile that I just so happened to fall in love with that minute.

  “So, um, what do you want to do?” I asked, to take my mind of the encounter with Chris, and tucked my fingers in my tight pockets with a shrug.

  He clearly hadn’t put much thought into that part of me being here when he’d invited me over. His face was a blank wall. He pursed his lips thoughtfully to one side, but not so much as a single idea came out.

  Straining my neck, I glanced over his shoulder at the widescreen TV a little away from the foot end of his bed. “What were you playing?”

  “FIFA. You know what that is?”

  “Are you kidding me? I play it all the time with Nick. Care for a match?”

  Ethan’s eyes started to glow. “Sure. Make yourself comfortable. I’ll get you something to drink and”—he paused and studied me like I was a whole different race—“popcorn?”

  When I looked at him in those baggy pants and the washed out t-shirt, I was thinking Peanuts, but I didn’t say that out loud. “Popcorn would be great.”

  While he was gone, I settled on his bed, took the controller, and continued the game he’d started. He came back with a bottle of mineral water, soda, and a bowl of warm, buttered popcorn. Yum. I made room for him to join me on his bed and he picked up a second controller, placing the bowl between us.

  “Don’t think just because I’m a girl you stand a chance at winning,” I bantered and picked my team—the Netherlands.

  Ethan picked the Ukraine. “I’d never dare to think that.” He shoved me with his elbow and chuckled.

  We played for a while. It was one of the funniest afternoons I’d had in a long time. And I hadn’t exaggerated when I told him I was good at this game. Ethan was going down in flames! Only, he was a sore loser and tried to cheat by reaching for my controller.

  “Hey, stop that, you!” I tossed a single kernel of popcorn at his face.

  Charlie Brown took that as a challenge, grabbed a handful from the bowl, and called out, “Eat that, Miller!”

  Lips pressed shut, I tried to wiggle away, but he didn’t let me. His controller dropped to the floor, mine slid between the be
d and the wall, and the bowl went flying with popcorn snowing down on us. I laughed so hard that I opened my mouth and was immediately fed popcorn.

  “Go away!” I shouted, chewing what he managed to shove into my mouth.

  “Only when you admit that I’m the winner.”

  “Some loser you are! I won this game fair and”—I grinned—“easy. You totally suck!” That was a mistake, though. Ethan pursed his lips. He wagged his brows once, and I knew whatever was to come wasn’t going to be good. His fingers found my sensitive sides and he started tickling me until I was choking from laughter and coughing out popcorn crumbs.

  I shoved hard at his chest, but my hard was cotton soft for him, because he didn’t budge an inch.

  “Surrender!” he demanded, smirking down as he lay half on top of me, pinning my wrists on the mattress now.

  “Never!” I screamed at his face, only it didn’t come out as a scream at all. It was a hoarse whisper, induced by the hot tingle his nearness caused inside me. We both stilled. His face was close enough that our noses would have rubbed against each other at the slightest movement. His eyes were as wide as mine, but they switched down to my mouth the next instant. I didn’t know why, but this made me lick my lips. And he did the same.

  My heart jumped from a light jog into race mode. Oh my freaking goodness, this was it. Ethan was going to give me my first kiss. How in the world was that happening on our first date? And it wasn’t really a date anyway, but just us playing some stupid Wii.

  All of a sudden, Chris’s words pressed back into my mind. I wanted to learn what taste you have in music, so I know what to put on when we make out on my bed. I was crazy to think about that right now, but the memory of his smirk when he’d said it wouldn’t go away.

  And here I was, about to make out with his brother. A mocking na na na na na na chanted though my head—and Chris deserved it for being so overly bold and arrogant. Swallowing, I focused back on Ethan.

  The moment for my first kiss couldn’t be more perfect, though I wished Ethan wouldn’t lie on top of me like this, because now he would notice each of my hitched breaths and find out exactly how nervous I was. He would know in an instant that I hadn’t been kissed ever before, and somehow that made me freak out even more. Looking at this perfect copy of a god above me, all I could think of was how many girls he must have kissed already in his life. Nice girls, good kissers, no wallflowers like me. What if I sucked at kissing?