Keatyn Unscripted (The Keatyn Chronicles Book 8)

by Jillian Dodd

  My phone buzzes:

  Hottie God: You need to sneak out and congratulate me.

  Me: That thing you did, before you kicked it. Was that a four leafed clover?

  Hottie God: The cave. In an hour.

  This is crazy. I had an amazing night with Dawson. I really shouldn’t go. (But she does.)

  Take off your pants.

  12:30am

  But I do.

  It’s stopped raining, but is hazy and chilly. I trudge back through the trees, getting my boots covered with mud. Aiden isn’t here yet. And I wonder about fate.

  Is it fate he’s not here?

  I sit on a damp stump, feel the back of my sweats and my thong get wet.

  Is there anything worse really than a damp ass?

  This is not very romantic.

  I hear the brush moving, and it sounds like someone is coming. I get a momentary rush of worry about getting caught out here after curfew.

  But the tree limbs part, and Aiden walks into the clearing. He’s carrying a rolled up sleeping bag.

  “No way I’m sleeping outside in this weather,” I tease.

  “The backing is waterproof. So we won’t get wet when we sit down.”

  “Too late for that.” I turn around and show him my wet backside.

  “There’s nothing worse than a damp ass,” he says. Which are the exact words I just thought a few seconds ago.

  The fates are so toying with me. (Eek! This scene excites me. One of my favorites of all. The best kiss of her entire life. Sorry, keep reading…)

  He spreads out the sleeping bag, with the shiny side down, then starts taking his sweatpants off.

  Uh, holy shit. What is this?

  I watch though. He has THE best legs at school. They have just enough light blonde hair to be masculine, but not enough to be hairy. Dawson is dark, his lean toward the more hairy looking side. Although he does shave everything else, thankfully.

  “What are you doing?” I say stupidly.

  “Take off your pants,” he replies.

  “Isn’t this moving a little fast? I mean we’ve barely made out.”

  He laughs and shakes his head at me. “Silly, Boots, I was going to let you wear my sweats. See, I have athletic shorts underneath.”

  “Oh, um, I...”

  “What? It’s not that big of a deal.”

  “My underwear are wet too.”

  He licks his lip and grins at me. Laughs. He’s never made this facial gesture in front of me. And the combination of his mouth and tongue both looking at me at the same time. I can’t even tell you what it does. It’s like my stomach flips, like I was on a roller coaster, and we just flipped upside down going 75 mph.

  You had sex with Dawson tonight, you idiot. Thought he was the one.

  What is wrong with me?

  I need off this ride and fast. Have you ever been on a roller coaster, upside down and all of a sudden it feels like maybe your seatbelt, that little piece of webbed material, isn’t quite as tight as it should be? And you feel yourself slide a fraction of an inch, and you wait to fall to your death before it tightens up again?

  I feel like I’m ready to fall out of the roller coaster.

  Plummet to my death.

  And I briefly think what would my heaven be? When my dad died, Mom explained heaven as this amazing place where Daddy was living his best days over and over. Like the day we got ice cream and rode the ferris wheel. When we would walk along the beach, the three of us, holding hands.

  And my mind flashes to Aiden, after our dinner, gliding a feather all over me. That is my idea of heaven. Not sex on the side of the road. (Which should tell you something?)

  Hell, with the way I have been behaving, they would probably bar the gates of heaven when I walked up to them. Like the big security bouncers I saw at the Sundance film festival. “Sorry, you’re not on the list.”

  “You can take them off too. I won’t look,” Aiden says, referring to my wet undies.

  So I do. And sadly, he doesn’t even attempt to sneak a peek. He hands me his warm sweats, and I slide them on. And I say what’s on my mind before I think better. “Have you ever been naked in these sweats?”

  He pulls me onto the sleeping bag with him and kisses me in response.

  Pretty soon we’re kissing passionately. The first time he’s felt like a normal boy.

  Like a normal horny boy.

  He stops, leans up on one arm, “So you figured it out, huh?”

  And I want to say, That you are a god, yes. I know.

  He makes half the symbol with his fingers. It looks incomplete. I mirror it with my hand and hold it up to his. And when our fingers touch, I swear to God in heaven, a spark of lightening shot from my hand to his.

  “A four leaf clover,” I say, breathlessly. “Well sorta.”

  He rolls up on top of me, straddling me. It was an effortless move.

  I look at him, my eyes wide. “Use both your hands, make the double o’s.”

  So I do. Then he puts one hand on each side of mine and forms two more o’s. And now it does look like a four leaf clover.

  “That does look like a clover,” I tell him. (I just gotta know. You were doing this with your hands and trying to make it while you were reading this the first time, weren’t you? It’s okay. I do it, too.)

  “It’s going to take both of us together to make this work.” he says wisely. “I heard Dawson was taking you on an actual date thing tonight, before the game.”

  “Yeah, he says he’s going to fight for me.”

  “Doesn’t matter,” Aiden says, still forming the clover, “I’m going to win.”

  “It sorta looks like our hands are having sex,” I laugh, “like the way they are joined together, kinda.... uh, never mind.”

  “Lets talk about sex.”

  Just him saying sex almost leaves me more breathless than actual sex with Dawson.

  “Uh, okay.”

  He leans down, his mouth about twelve inches from mine. “We’re going to take things slow.”

  “I want to take things slow. Like if you were just hoping for sex from me, you should probably halt the wooing process.”

  “Does that mean you also won’t be having sex with anyone else during the wooing process?”

  “Um, I’m not sure. I want to say no, but I’m having kind of a hard time with that.”

  “So that’s why I’m not winning right now? If we had sex, would I win?”

  I let out a little laugh, “I don’t know, you think it would be any good?”

  He runs his finger gently down my neck. “What do you think?”

  I swallow hard. “God, don’t do that to me. I screwed up with Dawson. I slept with him too soon, but it’s good. Really good. Frustratingly good.”

  He starts to get off me. I grab his hands. “I really don’t want to hear this,” he tells me.

  “You need to hear it. I think I have been convinced that because the sex is good, that our relationship is good. I mean he’s trying. We had a nice, romantic dinner tonight. I thought I could handle going fast with the sex part of the relationship and slow with the feelings part of the relationship, but I can’t. It’s all messed up. I’m just saying, I’m not having sex with anyone again, well anyone new, until I know they are worth it. You’re going to have to wait for a while. Probably a long while.”

  “Boots?”

  He leans down closer to my face.

  “Yeah?”

  “I’d wait for you forever. You don’t get it do you?”

  “Get what?”

  “When I said I wanna ask you to marry me, I wasn't joking. Were going to be together for a long time. There's no need to rush things when you know that.” (Awwwwwwww!!!)

  “Do you know how weird it is for a guy to say that? Guys hate commitment.”

  “I told you, I saw you, I knew. Did you not feel it? Was it just me?”

  “No, I felt it too. I just thought you were a player and fought it.”

  “Don’t
fight me anymore, okay?”

  His lips quickly close the gap between his and mine. I don’t get to reply.

  All of a sudden there is a huge clap of thunder and a bolt of lightening hits something not too far from us. Rain starts coming down in buckets.

  He pulls me up off the ground. We laugh at how soaked we both instantly are.

  And in the pouring rain, I get The. Best. Kiss. Of. My. Entire. Life.

  And I’m pretty sure with this kiss, he like branded me. Seared his intials into my skin. Like bite marks from a vampire. I’m his. And I don’t think I could ever kiss anyone else.

  That’s why everyone wants to do it.

  1:30am

  “Mom, I don’t know what to do. When I’m with Aiden, I want him to be my boyfriend, when I’m with Dawson, I want him.”

  “You can’t keep flip flopping like this, it’s not healthy. Are you doing more than just kissing this Dawson?”

  And I don’t normally lie to my mom, but I think I have to here.

  “Uh..”

  “So I will take that as a yes.”

  Shit.

  “I was planning on not with him. I was going to wait til I figured things out. But it’s very hard not to with him. Pretend like none of this happened. Feel good, be happy. You know you prepared me for sex, told me about protection and all that, but you didn’t teach me how to protect my heart.”

  “I’m pretty sure I recall telling you that sex is an emotional commitment, one that shouldn’t be taken lightly, that you should be sure when you do that with someone because once you do, you can’t take it back.”

  “So where does sex just for fun come in? Come on, Mom, I know you have had to just hook up with SOMEONE.”

  “Well yes, maybe I have, but wow, this is sorta hard to talk about.”

  “Tell me about it. You want me to talk about it, but then you don't want to tell me stuff. I also would like Tommy’s opinion on this. I’m really really confused about it. Like I’m thinking it’s not that big of a commitment emotionally for boys. They like it, they feel in love, they say they love you, but then when their ex calls them or when some orange fake boobed girl wants to do you in a cabana, they forget all that.”

  “Kiki, we talked about this. What would you have done if it was Brooklyn, saying stuff like that to you?”

  “I would do what I did, tell him to go away.”

  “Yes, but you were sitting by your boyfriend at the time. What would you have said if it would have been just you?”

  “I would have wanted some answers. I would have asked him how he could do that to me, when he said he loved me.”

  “Maybe you should ask him now.”

  “Maybe I don’t care.”

  “I think you do.”

  “So back to the how do you hook up without emotion. I think that’s what I am going to start doing from now on.”

  “Keatyn Elizabeth. You better not. I would be very disappointed in you. More importantly, I think you would be very disappointed in yourself.”

  “The god of all hotties said he’d wait. He says that when you know you are going to be with someone forever, waiting a while is not that big of a deal.”

  “He sounds like a nice boy.”

  “He sounds like he’s telling me what I want to hear right now. Let me talk to Tommy.”

  Mom huffs, then says, “Fine. here.”

  I hear Tommy’s voice say, “Hey baby, whats up?”

  “Mom says you were a player when you met her. How did you have random sex with people you didn’t care about.”

  “Because it felt good basically.”

  OMG. Thank god. I’m normal. Because that’s why I am still doing that with Dawson. It feels good.

  I hear mom in the background go, “TOMMY!”

  “Well, it does feel good, and that’s why guys want to do it. That’s why everyone wants to do it. It feels good.”

  “Yeah, it does.”

  “But you are young, and you shouldn't be hooking up with someone you don’t care about.”

  “Why not? I think I’m gonna be a player. A slut. Have some fun.”

  “Kiki. Do you really think that’s the answer? Tell me this. If you hadn’t slept with Gorgeous would what he did hurt as bad?”

  “Uh, I’m not sure. Let me think. Um, no. It hurt because he told me he loved me. Which if you ask me is a pro slut argument. And good reason not to give a shit and just have fun.”

  “Something tells me you are not really that kind of girl. What do you think?”

  “I think I’m never falling in love again, no wait. If a boy tells me he loves me, I’m never going to believe him again. Also I’m seriously considering becoming that kind of girl.”

  “I think you will change your mind about that in the future, but I agree. I think you should take things slow.”

  “You and mom didn’t take things slow. It worked out. It’s no wonder I’m messed up.”

  “We were adults, and we just knew, baby.”

  “I just knew too.”

  “Then why when you were dating and sleeping with Gorgeous, were you worrying about the hottie?”

  “Tommy, you are too deep, dude.”

  “Think about it and when you figure it out, we’ll talk some more.”

  “I already know the answer.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes. I am love with both of them.”

  “You told me when you met the hottie you instantly fell in love with him. That correct?”

  “Yes.”

  “But you’re fighting it?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  “Because the boys I fall in love with hurt me. I’m two for two. Those are bad odds. Even Shark wouldn’t take bets on that.”

  “Who is Shark?”

  “Oh, a boy I met in detention. He’s my bookie.”

  “YOU HAVE A BOOKIE? And why were you in detention? You’ve never gotten a detention in your life!”

  “Uh, I didn’t mean he’s my bookie, he’s like a bookie. If I wanted to do a bet, which I don’t, he’d like be the guy to see. As for detention, the hottie god delayed me once, well, uh, twice. I was a smidge late for curfew. Then I was in a bad mood and maybe I cussed in french.”

  “Why?”

  “The hottie god was trying to tell me my lips are his bliss, but I didn’t know the french word for bliss, so I asked the teacher, and she didn’t know, and he wouldn't tell me, and so I looked it up on my phone. I was using my phone for school purposes, and she took it and put it into phone jail. And I said merde. And then I maybe said seal.”

  “Your lips are his bliss?”

  “Yeah, and he put little Hershey’s Bliss candies on my bed.”

  “He’s putting on the full court press.”

  “Oh, that’s not even all of it.”

  I tell him about all the wooing. The lunch, the clover, the points, the lights, the dances, the glass clover, the tutoring, the Eiffel tower, the car door, the french dinner, even the feather, and our mating finger clover tonight, kissing in the downpour.

  Tommy chuckles.

  “What?

  “The hottie likes you. A lot, baby. Has Gorgeous done anything like that? Cuz it sounds like it’s all just sex.”

  “I mean there is that, but he’s also super sweet.”

  “Name one thing he has done that is super sweet.”

  I was going to say he was rubbing under my sweatshirt during that one game, but maybe that falls into more of the sex category.

  “He brought me breakfast in bed one morning.”

  “What else?”

  “He like walks me to class and stuff. He looks adorable when he’s waiting for my outside my dorm. He licked hot fudge off my face, invited me to the Hamptons, gave me a piggyback ride, gets me coffee, asked me out, told me he loves me, bought me a key necklace, said it was the key to his heart. Of course then two days later, he tried to give the key to someone else, but then he told me I changed the lock because her key d
idn’t work anymore, and he loves me. And tonight he took me to a really cool dinner and told me he is going to woo me, that he’s going to fight for me.”

  “I think you already know who you like, you are just afraid to like him.”

  “I’m not sure about anything anymore.”

  “Give it some time, baby. Sometimes you just can’t fight fate.” (A lot of this scene was cut or split up and used in different ways in the series.)

  WHAT is it with that saying?

  You just can’t fight fate.

  I wanna scream BULLSHIT, YES I CAN! It makes me want to fight fate. To kick fate’s ass. I want to say screw some predetermined path. I’m blazing my own trail. I just wish to hell I knew where I wanted the trail to go.

  I get on the internet.

  Type in “How to fight fate.”

  Don’t laugh, I’m sure I’m not the only person that has attempted this feat. Maybe the only one that has attempted to ward off a god in the process, but still.

  Most of what I pull up is lyrics and videos for some song from like the early 2000’s about fighting fate. I click you tube, don’t like the words, because they are not telling me what I want to hear. The singer is accepting the fact that you can’t fight fate. Isn’t there someone bold out there in the world somewhere? Someone who is brave enough to share their fight on the internet?

  Apparently not.

  There is some quote in a movie about fighting fate. Not helpful.

  A long abandoned Facebook page.

  Maybe I need to revise my search.

  I type “How I can fight fate?”

  “What happens when you fight fate?”

  Still no luck.

  So if Aiden thinks I’m his fate, why is Dawson so compelling?

  I look up problem solving on the internet, maybe I need to look at this dilemma with a more critical, logical type approach. I learn that I should try to figure out the root of my problem. Like if I was having trouble with a relationship, is it because I’ve been drinking? Because I was beaten or abused as a child? Things like that. It says you have to deal with your roots, before you can grow the plant.

  Go back to my root problem.