That Boy (That Boy Series Book 1)

by Jillian Dodd

  Most of me wants to collapse in a fit of giggles when he gets the shirt off and swings it above his head like a lasso. But I have to admit, when he takes his shirt off, even though I have seen it a million times, it kinda takes my breath away.

  Just for a minute.

  Somehow, he is still tan and the sweat on his naked chest glitters in the sun, just like it glitters in the snow all around him.

  Which shouldn’t be that much of a surprise, really. I mean, Danny pretty much glitters all the time. His last name is really quite appropriate.

  God, he has a great chest!

  I know Lisa, Katie, and I will discuss it in excruciating detail later. It’s not even that Danny’s all that big, but the muscles in his arms and shoulders are just perfect, his body is lean in just the right places. Which brings us to that faint little line of blonde hair running from his chest, down through that beautiful six-pack of abs, and God knows where else.

  Don’t even want to think about that.

  I realize that Danny has tossed his sweaty shirt on my head. I take it off and fling it over to Lisa, who catches it and cuddles it with affection.

  I stand there and grin at that boy. “Chilly, honey?”

  “Absolutely not, darling. You?”

  We always pretend to love each other after a fight, because it makes Phillip happy. In these games, it seems that Danny and I always argue until we are cold enough to call a truce and gang up on Phillip.

  Later in the game, Danny hands off the ball to Brandon, who promptly fumbles it. With this fumble, he is down to only his jeans and one wet sock. I’m sure his feet are quite cold.

  Brandon wants to call the game, but Danny fervently tries to talk him out of it, because their team is winning. If a player bails out, that team automatically forfeits the game, regardless of the score.

  I just smile, watching him trying to convince a freezing and shaking Brandon that he’s not really cold. He tells him It’s all mental and, Ttough it out.

  “No way, man. I can’t take it any longer,” Brandon finally says.

  Yay! We win!

  Our team huddles up and we hoot, holler, and high five each other.

  “Do you see my sweatshirt?” I ask Phillip.

  My teeth are chattering now that I’m not running, and I realize how cold I am. Phillip bends down and lifts my sweatshirt up out of the snow, where Dillon had carelessly flung it. It’s all wet and cold.

  We both look sadly at it.

  Then he does the sweetest thing.

  He says, “Here, Princess,” and takes his own warm sweatshirt off and pulls it over my head.

  Now I know everyone gets all hyped up over Danny, but Phillip, who is his workout partner, is a few inches taller than Danny and carries more weight. Quite honestly, Phillip’s muscles are bigger, and I kinda like them even better. I get a little peek at his abs because when he pulls up his sweatshirt to take it off, his T-shirt rides up with it.

  Yummy. Very yummy.

  You know, being friends with cute boys does have its benefits.

  Phillip wraps those muscular arms around me and rubs his hands up and down the sides of my arms, trying to warm me up. He’s saying something to me about a great team, but he’s standing so close to me that for a minute I kind of get lost in his eyes.

  I swear, he’s so sweet that if he weren’t my friend, I think I might have kissed him. “Thanks, Phillip,” I say, blinking away that thought. “I think we need to hit the hot tub!”

  “Come on.” He grabs my hand and drags me behind him. “Let’s get a head start.”

  When we’re halfway to my house, he yells. “Last one in the hot tub is a loser.”

  Then he looks back at Danny and his team and says, “Oh sorry. I forgot. You already are!”

  I grab my phone and am just getting ready to dial Phillip’s number for our nightly phone call when the phone rings in my hand and startles me. I look at the caller ID, expecting to see Phillip’s number, but instead I see Renner, David.

  Who the heck is David Renner?

  Was that the name of the hot guy Lisa and I met at the sporting goods store the other day? She used to detest going to the sporting goods store with me, but she’s recently discovered that it’s one of the few place guys actually like to shop. I mean, how many guys has she ever met in her girly stores?

  Exactly none!

  So, while I was trying on jogging shorts, she was trying on boys. Well, not literally, but she did get herself a date and, well, supposedly one for me too, with this guy’s friend. Who, I might add, is clearly not capable of getting his own dates. I mean, he is not very fortunate in the looks department. So, aside from the fact that I already have a boyfriend, I’m sure I will be coming down with something highly contagious this Friday.

  Then it hits me.

  Renner.

  Allison Renner. Phillip’s girlfriend, right?

  Is he calling me from her house? No, it’s past ten, his school night curfew.

  As if he needs one. I swear, he’s the only person I know, and quite possibly the only teen in the entire universe, who prides himself on being home before curfew.

  I look across the street and see his bedroom light’s on.

  I answer with a polite, “Hello.”

  “JJ this is Allie,” Allison says, using the name her friends call her.

  No shit.

  “Hey, Allison, what’s up?” I answer, trying to sound pleasant, but purposely not using the name her friends call her.

  Cuz this is weird. I mean, she and I aren’t good friends.

  Honestly, we’re not friends at all. In fact, I really don’t care for her much. She’s very annoying and talks a mile a minute. It’s like she hardly needs to breathe. The boys at school make crass remarks about what else that would make her good at. Boys are sick. Anyway, she acts like she owns Phillip, and they’ve only been dating for like three weeks. I don’t think she’ll last much longer, though.

  I’ve never spoken to her on the phone before, so naturally I get the feeling I’m being set up. You know, like when your friends call you on a three-way call, but pretend that only one of them is there and she tries to get you to say bad stuff about the other friend, who is secretly listening, and then they both get mad at you?

  “Um JJ I have a quick question for you it’s about Phillip well I’m sure you guessed that and I mean I know you guys are neighbors and good friends and well I really need you to tell me something because I really like Phillip and I don’t want to be stupid and not believe him but I also don’t want to be stupid and be like cheated on.”

  God, she talks fast!

  “Allison, Phillip is not cheating on you!” He wouldn’t! He’s not that kind of guy. I mean, granted, he’ll be dumping her soon, but it will be because her clinginess is driving him mad. As in, she is always complaining he spends too much time with me. But that’s beside the point. “What would ever make you think that?”

  “Well I just called him and he answered the phone in this sweet sexy voice and he never talks to me like that,” she pouts.

  “What did he say?” This should be good. Did he call her another girl’s name?

  “He said, Hey Princess,” she says, imitating his velvety smooth voice.

  Oh shit.

  Double shit.

  Surely he didn’t. He would never tell.

  I’d kill him!

  I glance over to his house and see his bedroom light flickering off and on, on and off.

  I’m assuming that is some form of SOS.

  I hear the IM tone from my computer, and I’m sure it’s a message from him. I’ve got to stall this girl. “Um, Allison, did you ask him who this Princess is?” I ask as I run over to my computer.

  “Yeah I did.”

  “Well, what’d he tell you?”

  There is an IM from Receiver (Phillip). It’s just one half of a word. ASH.

  I send him back an IM from Cess. Everyone thinks it stands for Excess, to which I tend to do everything, bu
t Phillip set up my instant messenger account, so it’s really short for Princess. I write: U OWE ME, USE CALLER ID NXT TIME STUPID!

  “Um JJ you know who it is don’t you so could you please tell me first so I know if he’s lying to me?"

  “Sure, Allison,” I say, bored. “Phillip’s sister, Ashley’s, nickname is Princess,” I lie.

  Totally lie.

  Her Royal Queeness, possibly.

  Her Royal Highness, Ruler of the World, perhaps, but never a lowly princess.

  “Oh, thank goodness,” she gushes.

  She’s all happy now and rambles on, “I mean I wanted to believe him but I just didn’t know what to think and I mean his voice sounded all sweet and gentle and I guess it would make sense that he’d talk to his sister that way.”

  Not.

  They fight like crazy.

  He really loves her, but he says that it’s his job to annoy her. And he does.

  But I’m not really listening to Allison ramble. I’m lost in thought. I never realized it before, but Phillip does have a special voice he uses when he speaks just to me. It’s one of the reasons I love talking to him before I go to sleep. It’s sort of soothing.

  I don’t think I would’ve ever qualified it as sexy.

  Puh-leez. That’s just silly.

  But when I talk to him, it’s kind of like I do a brain dump—tell him about my day, the good, the bad and the ugly—and then he tells me what I should do. Of course, I usually don’t do it, but talking to him is kind of like getting a mental massage.

  Allison says, “Thanks, JJ, see you at school.”

  I hang up and call Phillip, while I type IT’S ME! PICK UP! on the IM.

  He answers, “Hey, Princess.”

  Okay, so it is kind of dreamy.

  “You owe me,” I tell him.

  “No, you owe me. I could’ve just told her the truth.”

  “Yeah, well, then I would’ve had to kick your ass, and I’m afraid that might be damaging to our friendship and your reputation.”

  He laughs at me.

  Quite possibly because my chances of kicking his buff ass are very slim, indeed. But since I could do it when we were young, I cling to idea that I still could.

  He finds this humorous and told me recently that he would love nothing more than for me to try. Of course, then Danny piped in with the kind of nasty comment only a boy can make, so I let it slide.

  “Enough of your girl problems. Mark called me tonight and wants to hang out Saturday.”

  Mark was a hot coworker of mine at my short-lived attempt at waitressing. He’s nineteen, in college, and totally hot. Did I mention that? Thick, wavy blond hair, big muscles, great body, hot car.

  He’s what Lisa would call a Trifecta.

  Hot face. Hot bod. Hot car. Trifecta, baby.

  Unfortunately, he only seems to see me as his cute little work friend.

  Yeah, it blows.

  But I’m totally infatuated with the guy. I can’t help it.

  Whenever he calls, I drop everything and change all my plans in order to go hang out with him.

  Last time, I even ditched my new boyfriend, Dillon. And Danny gave me all sorts of shit about that. He was like Dillon is my friend. You can’t just be doing that. But, honestly, I didn’t think it was that big of a deal, because Mark and I always just sort of hung out together. And Dillon told me as long as it was just a friend thing, he was cool with it.

  Unfortunately, it has been just a friend thing.

  Until last time, that is.

  And this time he asked me to go out to dinner somewhere kinda nice, which made it sound like an actual date. So I am really excited!

  “What should I do, Phillip? I’m kinda supposed to go to a movie with Dillon.”

  “Kind of?”

  “Okay, we have a date,” I reply curtly.

  “So what’d ya tell Mark?”

  “Um, that I’d let him know,” I lie.

  “You know, I don’t know why you always jump every time that guy calls, and then when he doesn’t call, you get all depressed. What’s that line he always says?”

  I sigh. “When you least expect it, expect it.”

  “Yeah, what the hell does that mean, anyway?”

  We’ve been over this many times before, but I reply, “It means just when I’m at the end of my rope waiting to hear from him, and close to believing I’ll never hear from him again, that’s when he calls.”

  And he does. He’s got it down to an exact science.

  “I’m just saying, that isn’t exactly the best way to treat a girl you like.”

  “That’s the problem, Phillip, we’re just friends, so it’s not like I can complain about it.”

  “I thought you kissed him last time you went out,” Phillip says.

  Uh, yeah. And I’ve been reliving it every night and during all my classes for the past few weeks. He was such a good kisser. And it was perfect, exactly how I had imagined it. I had thought, This is it. He wants me, we’ll be together, and it will be amazing.

  Then.

  One week.

  No call.

  I told myself that if he didn’t call in two more days, I would never speak to him again.

  Then.

  Two weeks.

  Still no call.

  By now, I’d given up hope of ever hearing from him again and convinced myself that it was just a dream. I also decided if he did ever call that I might speak to him, but only to make sure he was still alive because I am a concerned citizen. But after that, I was going to give that boy a piece of my mind!

  Finally after two weeks and three days, he called and asked me to dinner. I wanted to scream at him, You freaking jerk, but I caved and said That sounds great.

  I’m so dumb.

  Hey, wait a minute. I know Phillip never forgets anything, but I don’t recall telling him this juicy piece of information. I haven’t even told Lisa. I was keeping it to myself.

  Hoarding it.

  Plus, I seriously didn’t want Danny to find out. Or Dillon, for that matter.

  “Uh,” I stammer, unsure how to answer.

  “No, you didn’t tell me he kissed you,” he says, reading my mind.

  I swear he can sometimes.

  “I saw him all over you when he dropped you off.”

  “Phillip, were you spying on me?”

  “Actually, no,” he says in a believable tone. “I was seeing if your light was on.”

  Sure.

  “Phiiiiliiiip, what should I do?”

  “What you should do is tell him you’re busy, for once. But what you’re gonna do is break up with Dillon and go out with him. Right?”

  Okay, so the boy has me figured out. And he’s right. That is what I’ll do. How can I help it?

  Hot face. Hot bod. Hot car. Trifecta. Triple Threat.

  “So, what are you gonna tell him?”

  “Well, I already kinda said yes,” I say, telling the truth this time.

  “Told you. You’re hopeless! Night, Princess.”

  “Night, Phillip.”

  I go to bed thinking of Mark and willing myself to have a juicy dream about him. But, instead, I have some warped one where Phillip rescues me from Mark’s car because Mark has turned into some evil werewolf/vampire creature.

  Bizarre.

  So, my date on Saturday with Mark didn’t go so well. I suppose my dream should have been an indication of what was to come. It seemed Mark decided, unbeknownst to me, that he wanted to be more than just friends.

  A lot more!

  He took me parking before dinner. I said no way, and he took me straight home. Aren’t guys supposed to at least buy you dinner before they expect that? I was so upset and, of course, Danny is mad at me for breaking up with Dillon, and Dillon is still mad at me for breaking up with him.

  Maybe I’ll just give up on boys.

  Okay, maybe not.

  I mean, they’re just so cute!

  Today is the perfect day for lying out in the sun. I
t’s almost eighty degrees, and there is a soft, cool breeze. I don’t plan on wasting a day like today! So, I’m in my room putting on my new swimsuit. I’m really excited about this suit. It’s my first real bikini. I’ve always worn a two-piece, but they were a more athletic cut. This is one of those wonderful, skimpy, stringy things. I’ve never bought a string bikini, because I’ve always looked stupid in them. Let’s face it. You’ve got to have a figure to wear a suit like this. I’ve never had much of a figure, unless you consider the shape of a board an attractive figure. Yes, I’ve heard all the sayings.

  “Flat as a pancake.”

  “String bean.”

  “Toothpick.”

  “Tall drink of water.”

  “Bean Pole.”

  That’s one I don’t really get. I mean I understand the bean part, and the pole part, but what is a bean pole anyway? You’d think since I’m from a place where beans grow in fields and that I have actually walked beans, that I would know, but I don’t. Speaking of walking beans, I truly believe Congress needs to step in and enact some child endangerment legislation against that job.

  Have you ever walked beans?

  It’s the most disgusting thing on earth. I lasted one day—well, half a day, really. I just couldn’t see mucking around in the mud and the sun with all the bugs, chopping down weeds with a scythe.

  Yes, a scythe.

  Do you know what a scythe is? It’s like a huge, sharp, curved pirate sword.

  And they hand them out to kids!

  I am very fortunate that I didn’t chop off one of my legs while cutting down those stubborn weeds. That or the guy’s leg in the row next to me. And I have to tell you, when you think weeds, you think maybe a few here and a few there, like at home in your landscaping. But no, there are about a gazillion weeds in each row. And these weeds aren’t just little things either, but often corn stalks. And it takes a lot of work to chop just one of them down. And I swear, each bean row must be, at a minimum, several hundred miles long.