And me fall for some athlete with pretty eyes and a perfect body?
Please.
He wasn’t my type, and I certainly wasn’t his.
He was just bored, that was all.
Not that I could tell Jax that. The more I protested the more entertainment he’d find in this ridiculous theory.
He was just kidding, anyway. I knew that.
We both did.
I snuck another sidelong look.
Didn’t we?
11
Andrew
* * *
I showed up at her house again on Friday night.
I wasn’t trying to be some stalker or something, but honestly...time was running out.
That concert she was planning on going to—the one where she’d put her ridiculous lessons into action? That was tomorrow night.
Tomorrow.
And much as I’d thought I’d gotten through to her earlier this week, she’d spent the past two days avoiding me.
I knew it. She knew it. And at any other time I might not have called her out on it. I might have given her space.
But tomorrow night was the night. This girl was going to flirt with a notorious player. Or she was going to try, at least. She was bound and determined to get that loser’s attention.
Best case scenario—she got it. I had to believe that a girl as smart as Simone would see past Tony’s looks and his attitude or whatever it was that had made her think that he was something special.
But when would she realize he wasn’t some amazing guy who deserved to be with her? That was the question that nagged at me.
After he’d messed with her? After he’d hurt her? After he broke her heart?
Anger had me stretching my neck to the side trying to loosen the tension that two hours on a treadmill had done nothing to ease.
Because that was just the best case scenario. What if she didn’t get his attention? I hated to think about what that would do to her already low self-esteem, and I hated even more that it would likely mean her infatuation would still persist.
If she never got to know the loser, she couldn’t figure out what me and Jax and Rose already knew, even though Rose and I were taking Jax’s word for it.
This Tony guy didn’t deserve a girl like Simone.
Maybe I didn’t either, but at least I was trying. I was here and I was trying to help her see just how amazing she was...and some schmuck with a guitar was the one who’d have a chance with her tomorrow night.
Jealousy blazed to life as I waited on her doorstep and stewed.
I’d stopped trying to deny this sensation. It was jealousy, plain and simple. I wanted Simone to look at me like that—like I was the only guy she saw when she walked into a party.
Like I was someone special.
The door opened and her dad welcomed me in with a hearty pat on the back.
Her dad liked me.
His daughter?
That remained to be seen. But time was ticking and I was...desperate.
That’s right. I was desperate. For the first times since my dad died I actually felt a connection with someone new. I actually wanted a connection with someone new.
Was it scary?
Definitely.
But it was something real. And after years of anything but, real felt...good. It felt right. It was terrifying, and it was surreal, but it was also right. I knocked once before letting myself in. I’d been here enough recently that I was starting to feel comfortable in her home.
Maybe too comfortable.
“Andrew!” She wrapped her terry-cloth robe tighter around her middle, her eyes wide and her hair up in some sort of towel turban. “You’re worse than Jax.” She came over and slammed the door shut in my face.
“Sorry.” I mumbled it to the door, but that was the most I was capable of because...Simone. Shower. Robe. Nearly naked.
Me brain no work no more.
All the blood in my body was most definitely not rushing to my brain. I took a deep breath. A slow inhale. By the time she opened the door again, fully clad in supremely unsexy baggy pajama pants and a loose-fitting T-shirt, I was pleased to report that I was once more capable of speech.
“Hey,” I said as I walked past her into the room.
I didn’t say I was capable of eloquent speech.
“Hi.” She shut it behind me and moved over to a wall full of DVDs with a hand flourish worthy of Vanna White. “What are you in the mood for?” she teased.
You.
I swallowed that word. She wasn’t ready.
Heck, I wasn’t ready.
We’d been getting closer with every second we spent together and she was light years more comfortable around me today than she was just last week. But that didn’t mean she was ready for me to make a move.
But that didn’t mean I was ready to sit back and let her make a move on some other guy, either.
I saw those telltale magazines scattered on her bed. “Studying?”
Her lips hitched up at the corners at my mild tone. “Something like that.”
“Are you nervous about tomorrow?”
She flashed me a look I couldn’t quite read before ducking her head. “Sort of.”
I shoved my hands into the pockets of my jeans as I studied her. “What are you nervous about? You’ve gotten pretty great at talking to me.”
She laughed. “Yeah, but that’s because we’re…”
I stared at her as she trailed off, my stomach churning because I knew what she was going to say. “What are we?”
My voice was gruffer than intended and she blinked.
“We’re starting to be...friends,” she said, her voice softer than I’d ever heard it. Her gaze moved up to meet mine. “Aren’t we?”
Friends. There was the word I really hadn’t wanted to hear come out of her lips.
Had it started off with me wanting to be her friend?
Maybe.
Ah heck, who was I kidding?
No.
Whatever had piqued my interest in this girl, it hadn’t been the need for friendship. There might have been some truth to it like there would be some truth in a starving man saying he wouldn’t mind a little nibble.
It was the understatement of the century and it made me irrationally angry because…
Was that still how she saw me? As a friend?
I watched her pop a movie in and get settled in to what was now ‘our spots’ on her bed. I didn’t even take notice of what movie started to play because...this was it.
The last night to convince her that it was me she wanted, not some player who she barely knew.
Even as I thought it, I told myself I was being melodramatic. It wasn’t my last chance. It wasn’t like there was any guarantee that she and Tony would hit it off tomorrow night. But still…
“What are you nervous about?” I asked, picking up one of the magazines and flipping through it. The article, How to Catch a Crush, was marked with one of those sticky notes. I skimmed the bolded parts with a rueful grin. Some of them were totally ridiculous and some…
Find a way to get physical. My eyes caught on the phrase. Hold his hand. Touch his arm. If things are going well? Just kiss him already.
“...not sure if I’m nervous,” she was saying beside me. “Just...not sure this is a good idea.”
I jerked my head up to look at her. She was eyeing me oddly, nibbling on her lower lip.
Just kiss her already.
Was I honestly going to take advice from one of these ridiculous articles?
Her lips parted under my stare.
Maybe.
“I mean, I think I’m ready to talk to him, you know? I’ve got a list of questions prepared.” And then she was babbling. “A list of questions,” she repeated it with a nervous little laugh. “That doesn’t sound very romantic, does it?” She didn’t wait for me to answer, instead she adopted a slightly different voice. “Women are very practical...even Ingrid Bergman.”
She was quoting somet
hing and I had no idea what. All I knew was...I freakin’ loved that she did that.
I loved that I knew what it meant when she did that.
Right now? It meant she was nervous.
I shifted so I was facing her. I was in her space. Right next to her. On her bed.
Just kiss her already.
“So then what are you afraid of?” I asked.
She just stared at me. Her wide eyes wider than ever behind her glasses and her lips still parted like she was just as impatient as I was to just kiss already.
She licked her lips and I barely held back a groan.
I kept my voice low as I reached for her hand and held it, my thumb stroking the soft skin of her palm and feeling the erratic pulse at her wrist. “So let’s pretend…” I started, my gaze never leaving hers. “Let’s say you’ve got this list of questions and it works. Tony talks about himself for a while and things are going great…” It was hard to keep the sarcasm from my voice but I did my best. “What then?”
She shook her head and her eyes had a slightly dazed look in them. “I don’t know.”
“Well, if everything is going so great, he’ll probably try to kiss you,” I said. “Is that what you’re nervous about?”
She gave a jerky nod, her eyes widening even further. “I’ve never kissed anyone before,” she admitted in a rush of air. “There’s a good chance I’d mess it up.”
My gaze dropped to her lips. Was she still talking about Tony? Was she really imagining kissing Tony right now or...me?
Man, I hoped it was me. My heart was racing in my chest as I leaned forward, the air thickening between until it was hard to breathe.
“I don’t know what I’d do if he kissed me,” she said, her voice breathless and high.
I stopped moving in because…Tony.
She was talking about freakin’ Tony.
I swallowed down my disappointment. “You’d kiss him back, I imagine.”
I tried to keep my tone mild, to not let her see the crazy possessive anger that made the words feel like glass.
“I might laugh,” she said, her voice little more than a whisper now, like we were in a confessional or something. “Or worse…”
“An impersonation,” I guessed.
She flinched as she nodded. “Or...hiccups.” Her gaze clashed with mine and her eyes were so beautifully vulnerable and sweet, for a second there I forgot to be jealous. Because I was the one who was here. Now. With her.
“It’s a toss up, really,” she continued. “Between hysterical laughter, a bad movie impression, or hiccups.” She swallowed. “Sometimes I get hiccups when I’m really nervous.”
Her gaze fell to my lips, and I knew. She was nervous right now because… She felt it. She felt this.
I touched my fingers to her jaw and her gaze flew back up to mine. “Then maybe we should give this a test run, too. What do you say?”
I didn’t wait for her answer before I was leaning in, slowly, slowly...giving her all the time in the world to pull away.
When she didn’t, I closed the gap between us and I kissed her. The first touch was sweet and soft, her lips parting in surprise and a breath of air between us as she gasped.
And then she was kissing me back, her lips clinging to mine, tentatively at first, and then gaining in confidence as I moved my mouth over hers. The kiss was slow—an exploration.
A test.
A tease.
I wanted more. I wanted to tilt my head and deepen the kiss. I wanted to hear her moan and hold her close. I wanted…
I pulled back abruptly and drew in air.
I wanted this to be real.
Her eyes fluttered open and her gaze was dazed and dreamy. Her reaction was genuine and so freakin’ sweet it hurt my chest.
I dropped a kiss on her nose and then her cheeks and then one last light kiss on her lips before I pulled back to look at her.
“What was that?” she whispered.
I smiled because...she was so stinkin’ cute sometimes, even when she was killing me with her innocence. “That was a kiss,” I said.
“A...pretend kiss?” she asked.
“No,” I said. “That was a real kiss, because I really like you.” Maybe it was cowardly but I didn’t wait for her to respond. I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear what she had to say. Instead, I shifted toward the edge of the bed and stood. “I really like you, Simone. And I think you might like me, too. But I need you to figure that out for yourself.”
I started for the door because...air. I needed fresh air, and I needed distance, and…
I needed this girl.
But I needed her to know how she felt.
I needed her to feel the same.
I needed to not be competing with some random bassist I didn’t even know. Who neither of us really knew.
“Wait, where are you going?” she called from behind me.
I stopped and dropped my head as I struggled to slow my racing heart. That was her first kiss. I was her first kiss. I couldn’t just rush off and leave her feeling hurt. So I turned back and found her standing in the middle of the room behind me. I crossed over to her and cupped her face in my palms so she was forced to meet my gaze.
“I’m going home,” I answered. “And tomorrow I’ll stay at home while you go to the concert—”
She looked like she was going to interrupt but I cut her off with a shake of my head. “I’m not going to wish you luck, Simone, because—” I let out a humorless little huff of laughter. “Well, because I really hope you don’t get lucky with some other guy. But I do hope you figure out what you want...who you want.” I kissed the tip of her nose again. “And I hope you realize that you are worth so much more than this.” I nodded toward the stack of magazines. “You deserve to have a guy who will study magazines just to figure out how to talk to you. You deserve...” I sighed. “You just deserve better.”
“Andrew—” she started.
But I was walking away. I was already out the door.
It wasn’t cowardice that had me walking out before she could respond. I was trying to do the right thing. I was trying to be nice.
She wasn’t ready. It hadn’t been fair of me to hit her with my feelings like that. It wasn’t cool to put her on the spot.
“Go to the concert,” I said as I paused in her doorway. “Go put these lessons to use, and on Monday…let me know what you’ve decided.”
12
Simone
* * *
Rose smacked my hand away from the spaghetti strap that was keeping my dress in place. “Stop fidgeting. You look hot.”
I stopped fidgeting, but I was still one hundred percent ill at ease. We hadn’t even left for the club yet and I was already hating this night.
I needed more time to think. I needed space and a pros and cons list. I needed…
Oh, I had no idea what I needed but whatever it was, I needed it desperately. My belly was churning and my breath was erratic and I was either going to burst out crying, hiccuping, or doing a Ray Liotta impersonation.
Rose nudged my arm. “What are you doing over here with us? Go say hi,” she said in a stage whisper that I was sure half the room could hear.
Us was Rose, her best friend Hannah, Hannah’s boyfriend River, and Jax. The four of them were hanging out waiting for the rest of the band before we all took off to the club which was two towns over.
She nudged me again and I saw Tony in the far corner of the garage helping their drummer pack up some of his equipment.
Tony.
That’s who I was here to see tonight.
I eyed him steadily. He looked...the same as every other time I’d seen him. Cute. Brooding. He had a hooded gaze, too, I noticed, but unlike Andrew’s casual confidence and laid-back ease, Tony’s was more likely due to not enough sleep or smoking too much weed.
Rose nudged me again and I stumbled forward.
“Rose,” Hannah hissed. “Don’t push her if she’s not ready.”
Rose rolled her
eyes. “I’m not telling her to go over there and kiss the guy, she just needs to talk to him.”
Kiss. The word alone was enough to send me spiraling.
Andrew had kissed me. Andrew had kissed me. No matter how I said it to myself, no matter where I put the emphasis, it still shocked me to my core. My lips tingled with the visceral memory of that precious moment—so brief and so monumental.
My first kiss, and it had been...perfection. There was no other word for it. It hadn’t just been a kiss. It was a gesture. It was a way of communicating.
I had a whole new appreciation for kissing now because it wasn’t just about the physical act, it was about the person you were kissing. It was about what they were trying to say.
And Andrew’s kiss? It told me loud and clear that he cared about me. That he liked me. It told me that in his eyes I was something special, somebody to be treasured and appreciated and...and maybe even cherished.
Gah! That sounded beyond cheesy, even in my head.
But it was the truth. He liked me, and as for me…?
I found myself staring at Tony for so long that Rose nudged me again. Jax and River were talking amongst themselves but Rose and Hannah were watching me steadily. “Go talk to him,” Rose said again. “Unless...you don’t want to?”
I pressed my lips together and let out a huff of exasperation. I didn’t know what I wanted. Every time I tried to sort out my thoughts it just made them spin out of control even more. It felt like trying to pin down a cloud.
“How did you know?” I asked them abruptly.
They exchanged a look. “How did we know what?” Hannah asked.
“That you liked River.” I turned to Rose. “Or that you had feelings for Jax.”
They exchanged another look that made my hands clench at my sides.
“I don’t think it’s something you know…” Hannah started slowly.
“What?” Anxiety made my voice too sharp. “Then how did you decide to be with them?”
“She meant, it’s not something you figure out with your brain,” Rose said. She studied me with pursed lips for a moment. “You know how when you’re coaching me on my monologues you always tell me to tap into my emotions and trust my gut?”
Striking Out With The Star Pitcher: How to catch a crush #1 Page 9
