“Is it true that most of the rings you wear are from the plays you’ve been in?” Jett traced over the ring I wore on my pinky finger, causing a fresh bolt of electricity to course through me.
I couldn’t help but wonder who he’d heard that from. Had he been talking about me? Asking about me, maybe? With just three minutes left of class, I dropped my gaze to look at the other rings I wore today. Three on my right hand and two on my left, each sterling silver. “Yeah,” I answered. “A lot of them are. My granddad buys them for me. The tiny cat ears on this one is for…well you probably don’t remember, but when I was in The Aristocats back in the third grade.”
“I remember,” he said. “And this one’s for when you were Ariel?” He tapped the tiny mermaid on my pointer finger.
“Yes,” I said, secretly loving how he remembered.
Jett grinned. “You were cute in that long, red wig.”
My cheeks flushed with heat. “Thanks.”
“Of course,” he said under his breath, “I prefer brunettes.”
I stiffened for a blink, liking the fact that I fit into that category.
“And green eyes,” he added. Another feature that described me. He was probably just messing with me now. Next he’d say he liked theater girls who wore lots of rings.
“Here’s the topic for you two,” Ms. Tolken said as she shuffled up to our desk. She slid a bright red envelope onto the desktop and hurried over to Ky and Levi’s next, sliding a pale green one before the pair. I glanced about to see the others in the classroom. Maddie’s envelope was pale yellow. Another, deep blue. What was with the color-coding?
I looked back down at the envelope resting between Jett and me, feeling the heat of his gaze on my face. I glanced up to meet his eye.
Jett unleashed that grin of his. “Who’s going to open it?” He said it like it was a dare. Just ask Fiona Tisdale, my very intelligent mother, how well dares work on me.
I snatched the envelope, flipped open the unsealed flap, and pried it open with hurried fingers. There, tucked into the small space, bright white against the red, laid a slip of paper. Black ink spelled out our topic, the one we were meant to research—together—for the next two weeks.
Anticipation stirred wildly in my chest. My heart thumped out a few extra beats as I lifted my chin to locate Ms. Tolken. Her eyes were set right on me, and something in the sparkle behind those massive frames said she’d given us the topic on purpose.
“So?” Jett urged. “What does it say? What’s our topic?”
I looked up to Jett, trying very hard not to focus on those big, kissable lips, and cleared my throat. “It’s the Chemistry of a Kiss.”
Chapter Two
I do not want to kiss Jett Bryant. I do not want to kiss Jett Bryant. I have a boyfriend and he’s the only guy I want.
It occurred to me as I waited for TJ to pull up to the curb in his dad’s Chevy that I was chanting in my head. Who cared? It was all true. TJ was an amazing boyfriend who was taking time out of his day to come and get me from school so we could hang out.
A bright yellow school bus let out a loud whoosh as it came to a stop nearby. The doors hissed open, and a long line of students began filing in. Further down, students flooded the parking lot like insects in an ant farm, busily hurrying to get to the next place.
The chemistry of a kiss. What in the world kind of topic was that? And why did it keep triggering thoughts of that party back in middle school? Of the moment I decided not to kiss Jett Bryant. A decision that was either the best or the worst I’d ever made. It all depended on my mood.
I squinted against the sun, glad it had made an appearance today, and sighed. November in Sweet Water was chilly. Good thing I’d brought my jacket. I tightened it around me and folded my arms against the breeze. It was then I heard a loud, growling noise coming from the other side of the lot. I turned, a bit of dread sparking as I laid eyes on the sight. TJ, dressed in black from head to toe, straddled a massive motorcycle, his blondish brown hair tossing in the wind.
Was he kidding? I hated bikes. Hate hate hate.
“Tell me that is not your boyfriend.”
I stiffened at the sound of Jett’s voice. Talk about bad timing. Never once had TJ shown up on some sputtering death machine with black smoke pluming from the tailpipe.
TJ veered toward us, but he hadn’t slowed down enough. My eyes widened in horror as the bike sped toward the curb just inches from my feet. The shortest distance between two points was a straight line, and if I didn’t move out of the way in point five seconds, I’d become sidewalk kill in front of Jett and the awkward, gawking freshmen on the bus.
The thought came to me faster than my feet could move, but suddenly that didn’t matter because a pair of strong arms hoisted me right off the ground and yanked me out of the way.
I felt myself teeter as my rescuer caught his footing, the masculine, spicy scent of him confirming just who it was. A large hand cradled my hip as I steadied my feet and spun to face him. He hadn’t exactly let go of me yet, so that put us face to face and hands (mine) to chest (his). At least it hadn’t gone the other way around; the freshmen would have really had something to talk about then.
“Are you okay?” he breathed, concern etched on his handsome face.
“Me?” I squeaked. Whoa. That was one muscled chest. I forced my palms away from the wonderfully warm contours and nodded. “I’m…yes. Thank you.” I stepped back and spun to see what had happened to TJ.
Beyond a crowd of mumbling spectators, I caught sight of a spinning tire. The bike had made it up the stairs, a small flight of half a dozen, and was sputtering on its side, spewing plumes of black smoke.
“That was wicked,” TJ bellowed as he leaned down to pick up the bike.
“You know, you were right,” Jett said.
I tore my eyes off the sight to glance over at Jett, not fully able to wipe the annoyed sneer off my face. TJ had nearly killed me and all he was doing was soaking up the glory of a bunch of high school kids.
Jett tipped his head to one side. “He seems…nice. A real Prince Charming, right there.”
Angry heat climbed right up my back and into my neck. I glared at Jett, feeling torn after he’d just come to my rescue moments ago. What kind of game was he playing? I shook my head, set my eyes back on the crowd surrounding TJ, and tugged the phone from my pocket. Forget about TJ and Jett. I needed to get out of there, and fast.
The oven glowed bright as I pried open the door. A casserole dish with only heaven knew what rested in Mom’s favorite blue dish. I wished I could say that the aroma made my mouth water, but it came closer to triggering my gag reflex than anything else.
My bottom lip curled. My stomach heaved. Why Mom had to experiment with every creation under the sun was beyond me. No, not every creation. Only the fifty competitors for nastiest healthy food meals. I was positive there were decent options out there too; Mom just didn’t know how to choose them.
“Is it almost ready?”
“Yeah,” came TJ next. “It smells good, and I’m starving.”
I shrugged, amazed that either of them wanted to taste the source of the smell in the air. Who walked into a sewer, sucked in a long breath, and asked when dinner was?
“Sure,” I said, snatching the potholders off the counter. Heat from the open door flooded over my face and arms as I lifted the dish out and onto the stovetop. “Come and get it.”
Missy galloped over while spanking her own butt and neighed. Perhaps if I pretended this was horse food I’d enjoy it too. I handed over her favorite plate, the one with cats in a basket, then retrieved the matching cup as well. Unsure whether spoons or forks were called for, I pulled two of each out of the drawer and slid them onto the counter.
“Aren’t you going to eat?” TJ asked as he piled the grainy goo onto his plate.
“Nope.”
“What time is Mom going to be home?” Missy asked in a singsong voice.
I glanced at the clock on the microw
ave. “Probably not for a few more hours. The house she’s showing is far away.”
“Does that mean we can watch TV on the trays while we eat?”
“Sure,” I said, heading over to the pantry. “TJ will turn it on for you, okay?” The door made that haunted house-sounding creak when I swung it open, which felt oddly appropriate considering the sight beyond was sure to be scary. Dry grain in boxes and bins. Tubs of powder and supplements and freeze-dried everything from peas to prunes. I tipped my head back and groaned. “For the love,” I cried. “Why can’t we have normal food in this house?” I stepped further into the depths when a gold wrapper caught my eye.
Could it be? It was. I snatched the small bar from its hidden place behind the organic prune juice (what, was Mom dipping into Ms. Tolken’s pantry now?) and grinned. A protein bar with real peanut butter in it. This was the reason I actually liked school lunch. I was deprived. Fiona Tisdale might insist on buying all things natural, but the fact was, there was nothing natural about eating the stuff stacked on the shelves.
I sank onto the couch and watched wrestling with TJ and Missy. I told myself, as Missy yelled at the big screen on demand, smiling over at TJ for approval, that he would make a good dad one day. He would. He was cute with Missy. And the incident with the bike had been a freak accident. What, did I expect him to be perfect? How fair was that?
TJ patted the couch cushion beside him and lifted his brows. He tipped his head toward Missy. I followed the motion to see that she’d fallen asleep. Oh, and TJ wanted to get close. So did I. I mean, it hadn’t occurred to me or anything. I hadn’t been like, when is this kid going to fall asleep so we can be alone? But I was still glad.
I slid over to close the gap and rested my head onto his chest. I sighed. This was nice. I was happy with TJ. He was a good guy. Who probably very much wanted to apologize for his rude behavior at the school. Maybe he was working up to that in his mind.
The fact was, he didn’t follow me straight home after the incident. In fact, I’d spent forty angry minutes crossing off Mom’s to-do list while waiting for him to show up and apologize exactly in that order. He’d accomplished the showing up part, but had yet to get to the apology. I figured now that he’d finished off half of Mom’s mystery casserole, bless him, he was ready.
“That was a little crazy today in the parking lot,” I said, steering him in the right direction.
He ran a hand through his shaggy blonde hair and grinned. “Yeah, that was wicked. I don’t really know how to drive it too well yet, but if I’m going to buy it, I better figure it out quick.”
The words were a set of screeching brakes in my head. Buy it? Had he forgotten his goals? Had he forgotten the black pluming smoke and sputtering engine?
TJ wrapped an arm around me and pulled me against him. And suddenly he was leaning in for a kiss. Eyes closed. Lips puckered.
Not so fast. “Wait,” I said. “Did you…” I stopped there to rephrase the question. “You decided last week that you wanted to save up and go to school. Remember?”
TJ pulled back and looked at me through half closed lids. “Yeah, babe, but then I talked with the guys today and they’re getting real serious about Grunge Town. They want to try and take it on the road. Record an album maybe.” He lifted a brow. “Isn’t that awesome?”
I smiled, wondering why we always ended up in this same spot. And then I remembered something. “You were with the band today? I thought you had work.”
He gave me the exact same look I’ve caught Missy giving Mom, those please-don’t-be-mad-at-me eyes.
“What?” I said, relating with my poor mother more than ever before.
“I called in sick. Jessie was stoked about this new riff he came up with last night at like, two in the morning. He texted the band with a 911 and was like, ‘we seriously have to jam today.’”
I huffed out an exaggerated sigh. There weren’t a whole lot of items on the list I’d made with him. In fact, I had it memorized by heart.
Save money.
Ask for raise and take extra shifts.
Pick college or training and set a start goal.
I could feel myself wadding up the proverbial towel. I wanted to bolt out of the house, run to the nearest cliff, and chuck it into the pit of forgotten hopes and failed dreams. I didn’t want to do this anymore. Yes, I was attracted to TJ and the whole bad-boy thing he had going on. He was so very opposite me, and I think that’s what drew me to him the most.
The trouble was, I was more attracted to the guy he would become once he was done with this phase. Sure, I wanted a guy with an edge, but I didn’t want him to be a total bum. The debate I had with Jett earlier ran through my mind. He’d insisted I couldn’t change TJ, and I was actually starting to wonder if he was right. Immediately I envisioned the assignment in that red envelope. The chemistry of a kiss.
In our three and a half weeks of dating, TJ and I hadn’t had what I’d call an amazing kiss. He’d started giving me goodbye kisses after our second date—date being a loose term since TJ wasn’t exactly the let’s-go-to-dinner-and-the-movies type of guy. He was more of the let’s-hang-out-and-watch-movies type. Or the hey-wanna-come-watch-us-jam-in-Jessie’s-garage type.
I didn’t mind at first. In fact, it was all part of the excitement of dating a rebel. But already, the novelty was wearing thin. Stop, I told myself. I needed to stop giving myself a way out. It might not be easy, but I needed to stick this out and help TJ become his best self. It’d be worth it.
TJ leaned in and kissed my cheek. A soft, lingering kiss. It felt nice, and I couldn’t help but wonder what it might feel like to have that exact soft kiss on my lips. We’d only shared one long, close-to-make-out type of kiss, and it wasn’t all that great. TJ had come into it with too much…enthusiasm. It was like he’d never watched the movies where characters actually worked up to kisses like that.
I wanted to see what it felt like when he really relaxed and let it happen naturally. Especially now since ideas of kissing Jett had crossed my mind. I needed to replace those evil visions with a mind-blowing kiss from TJ, meaning the lecture about his goals would have to wait until we rekindled a little love.
I grinned, gave him a little encouragement by planting a playful peck to his lips in return, and suddenly TJ moved in with a groan. His lips were desperate and demanding and…and gross. It felt like I was kissing that nasty casserole Mom made.
Instinctively, I moved my hands to his chest and pushed, breaking the seal of our lips. I gasped there for a quiet second while TJ stared at me with his lips still parted.
That was bad. That was really, really bad. How many things would I have to fix in this relationship before we’d be sailing smooth?
“Sorry,” I breathed. I looked over to where Missy had fallen asleep.
“Don’t worry about it,” TJ mumbled.
Oh, TJ thought I’d stopped things because of Missy.
A grin spread over his mouth. “She’s out like a light.” He wrapped a hand around the back of my neck, ready to draw me in for more, when a voice spoke up.
“What’s going on in here?”
Ah, thank heavens. It was Mom.
“Nothing,” I said and scooted myself back onto the other cushion.
“Oh yes there is,” Missy chimed. “They were kissing! I saw them.”
Chapter Three
The sky was a giant sheet of clouds as I trudged down the steps toward Bailey’s car. It matched my mood to a tee. Thank heavens she and Summer had been able to pick me up again; we were down to one car until Mom renewed the registration on her Nissan, which meant she had to take the Jetta to work again.
I pried open the door, climbed into the back seat, and closed the door behind me. “You’re not going to believe what happened last night,” I said while strapping my seatbelt on.
Summer spun in place, her blonde hair flying off her back and settling over the front of her shoulders. “What?”
Bailey caught my eye contact through the rear
view. “Do tell.”
“My mom said I’m not allowed to date just TJ. I have to date someone else in between.”
“No way.”
“You’re kidding!”
“Nope.”
Summer’s face scrunched up. “Why?”
I didn’t exactly want to get into that part. The truth was, it had taken me a while to get over the whole casserole kiss, but now that Mom was trying to set such ridiculous boundaries to keep me from getting “too serious” with TJ, I was more Team TJ than I’d ever been before. I really liked him. He’d been so cute with Missy. And when he’d kissed my cheeks all soft and feather-like, it had been amazing.
“Were you two making out?” Bailey asked in my silence.
I stared at the back of her head. She had her red hair pulled back today and twisted into a knot. “Not exactly,” I mumbled. “But Missy made it sound like we were.”
Summer gasped. “You were kissing in front of your little sister?”
“She was asleep,” I said, irritated.
“So what are you going to do?” Bailey asked.
I tipped my head back dramatically and groaned. “I have no idea. I don’t want to date anyone else.” I was glad to realize that my words were still true. Sure, I might have gotten a little distracted by Jett and his incredible smell and eyes and brooding appeal, but I wasn’t going to give up on TJ so soon.
Besides, what would that do really? Prove to Mr. Pompous that he’d been right on now two counts. One, that I couldn’t, in fact, make TJ change. The second one would be more implied than anything, but if I broke things off now, right after Jett had swooped in like a dark, dangerous superhero and rescued me from TJ’s bike, Jett was sure to flatter himself and assume I was interested in him. Which I one hundred percent was not. And no, I wasn’t protesting too much, I was stating the facts.
Chemistry of a Kiss Page 2
