Switched: Flirt New Adult Romance

by Cassie Mae

  “So,” he says when we’ve both finished our dinner and I’m back on the floor moving DVDs around, “our best friends broke up.”

  “Yup.”

  “You feel like I do?”

  I twirl my tongue, my eyes searching the floor for Liar Liar. “Confused?”

  He barks out a laugh. “Hell yeah. Especially since Talon’s suddenly talking chicks with me. You’ll be happy to know you’re a frequent topic of conversation.”

  My insides curl up, but I’m not sure if it’s because I’m happy or because I feel super guilty. So I keep my face composed as I stick another DVD in the right case. “What is he saying exactly?”

  Wesley shrugs, then slides off the couch and starts helping me sort through his movies. “Just wants to know if there’s anything going on between us.”

  “Us meaning you and me?” I ask, cocking an eyebrow at him.

  “Yeah.”

  “What did you tell him?” My eyes move back to the floor.

  “The truth. That we’re friends.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Yeah.”

  I blow out a breath, tucking a loose curl behind my ear. “Did you think we’d get this far? I have no idea what to do next or what to think or how to deal with it all.”

  Now it’s his turn to let out the air he’s been holding in. “Yes, that’s exactly how I’m feeling. Reagan always seemed like something that would never happen. Even if they broke up, exes are usually off-limits. Now it seems like Talon’s asking my permission to go after you, and trying to shove Reagan in my face like he doesn’t give a shit if I start dating her.”

  “Yeah, Reagan’s acting the same.” I pause, twirling a DVD on my finger. “What the hell happened on Christmas night?”

  “I don’t know, but I think what we need to do is cool it. Give them time to be away from each other and us, so we’re not rebounds.”

  I nod, even though the thought of not seeing the guys for a few weeks makes my stomach shrivel like a prune left in the sun. I can’t exactly stay away from Reagan, seeing as I live with her. “So we go with the flow?”

  “Yeah.”

  My shoulders slump and I put the last DVD away. “I don’t think I have the personality for that.”

  “Really?” he asks in mock surprise, motioning to all the movies. “I couldn’t tell.”

  “Shut up.” I shove his shoulder, and hello, arms! They’re pretty stiff and hard. Never noticed that before.

  “I should warn you, I may test Talon on this in a couple of weeks, though.”

  “What?”

  “I’m going to ask Reagan out. See if he’s really over her.”

  Why did that make me pout? My lip shot right out there on its own accord. I quickly tuck it back in before Wesley notices.

  “Sounds like a plan,” I say, hoping I sound lighthearted and excited for him. Maybe I’m jealous because I can see Reagan and Wesley together, but Talon and I still feel like a pipe dream.

  “I’ll let you know if Talon says anything else about you. But I think you’ve got it covered. Whatever you two did while Reagan and I weren’t around sure had an effect on him.”

  Okay, Wesley knows how to make me feel better, even when he doesn’t realize he’s doing it. Talon even has good taste in best friends.

  I try to hide my flushed cheeks, but so much for that being successful. Wesley fans me like I’m on fire, making me heat up more, and I end up running for the wet towel again while he pins me against the counter. He tickles me till I yell for mercy and my cheeks are sore from laughing.

  Yeah, Wesley always knows how to make me feel better.

  I help him put away the food and all the movies before I grab my jacket. I know he’s exhausted, even though he seems laced with energy now; he’ll probably zonk out the second I leave.

  “Talk to you soon,” I say, ready to close the door behind me.

  “Hey, Kayla?”

  I stop. “Yeah?”

  “Thanks.” His cheeks turn a slight shade of pink. “You know, for dinner and stuff. And for the tip you left me.”

  My eyebrows go up, but I can’t keep the guilty smile off my face. “Why, Wesley, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  He laughs and I watch the dimple pop on his chin before closing the door between us. I don’t feel any less confused about everything, but at least I don’t feel alone anymore.

  Progress Report: January 18

  Things to report on for the last two weeks, which have been, sadly, uneventful.

  • Reagan asked me again if I like Wesley, and for some stupid reason, I keep throwing back a question at her instead to change the subject. I don’t even realize I’m doing it until we’ve gone to bed or class starts or whatever. But I’m going to tell her not to worry about that. Just have to remember in the morning.

  • I know Wesley said to give them both space, but Talon keeps texting me, and I don’t want to be a dork and ignore him. The weird thing is, I don’t get all excited when I see his name on my phone. And then I get totally pissed off because I’m not having the right bodily reactions. What the hell?

  • Instead of all of us hanging out every chance we get, we’ve been pretty independent. Wesley’s been working his butt off, poor guy, and between his classes and work I have no idea how he’s even functioning with the lack of sleep. Reagan’s been texting into the wee hours of the morning under her covers, and I can only assume it’s with Wesley because she laughs every five seconds. So I guess I’m not the only one who’s not following rules about the space thing.

  • Talon is still on my mind all the time. But it’s not like it used to be. Reagan says she doesn’t care, that she’s sorry she “took him” in the first place, but she didn’t take him from me—he wasn’t even mine to begin with. Yes, he’s my soul mate … yeah, but nothing epic has happened in the past three weeks since he sat on my bed and told me he still wanted to be friends. The texts have been the same old, same old, but I’m not sure what I was expecting.

  Some kind of hint, I guess. I don’t know.

  So it feels like we’ve all drifted apart, but I’m the only one who’s feeling that way. From everyone else’s actions, it looks like they think we’re all nice and tight like always. But I’m sitting here missing what we used to have. Even though I had to put up with my best friend dating Talon, at least I felt a part of something. Now I’m not sure what’s going on.

  Oh! I just got a text from Talon, so I’m gonna chat with him till I go to bed. Wish me luck in not getting that gross feeling in my tummy afterward. You know, if journals can do that sort of thing.

  Step 20:

  Be More Excited When the Love of Your Life Asks You Out

  (And don’t get mad at your accomplice for doing the same thing.)

  Third down and seven, and twenty-two sexy football player butts in the air. Talon reaches in between number fifty-two’s legs and calls out that down, set, hickey thing. As soon as the ball touches his big capable man hands, everyone scatters, and all I see is Talon backing up, backing up, backing up, then launching the football through the air right before some jerk from the defense plows over the sexy quarterback.

  I remember screaming his name, but I don’t hear it on the video over all the shrieks Reagan let out. Talon threw a perfect spiral to number fifteen, who was in the end zone. The coach was crazy not to start him. Look at him shine during this practice.

  This is totally why I pulled out this video. I need to get my head back on and focus on the task at hand. Maybe reliving his awesome moment will help.

  The students who packed themselves in the bleachers start to dissipate as the coach calls in the team. We were pretty close to championship games, so practices were the prelude to the real thing, and an excuse to throw a party.

  Reagan skips down the bleachers, flip-flops slapping the concrete, when the team breaks apart. Most players go to the locker room, but not all. Not the ones with girlfriends lined up along the fence to give their guys a kiss before
they change.

  Talon was super sweaty that day. Even on my crappy phone recording, I can see the perspiration dripping from his hairline, and his pits are soaked. I remember thinking that was the sexiest image in the world, but as I watch him and Reagan peck through the chain link, all I can think about is how wet that must’ve been, and how it feels like it’s my fault they don’t do that anymore.

  “Hey, Kayla!”

  My phone slips through my fingers, but luckily it lands back in my purse. Right next to a condom Reagan shoved in there. Continuing her condom war, I guess. I’ll have to find a way to get it back in her court.

  Talon waves me over to the other side of the cafeteria, his football buds leaving to go to the field to mess around or something. But Talon stays planted in his seat, waiting for me to come over. I smile and pray to the high heavens I don’t fall down as I make my way toward him.

  “What’s up?” Yay, I rehearsed that line in my head the whole way over, and it came out beautifully.

  “Nothing much.” Talon starts tossing all his napkins and stuff in a paper bag as he kicks out a chair for me. “You here by yourself?”

  I nod, adjusting the strap of my purse on my shoulder while I sit. “Wesley’s working and Reagan’s there bugging him.”

  “Well, cool. You going to stick around for a bit?”

  His blue eyes get this hopeful-puppy-dog look in them, and I sigh. Yay! I think I’m getting back in regular crushed out-Talon mode.

  “Sure.”

  “Awesome. I want to talk to you about something. I’ll be back after, you know.” He gestures to all the garbage on the table, and I melt a little into the ground. Just a little. “Mmmkay.”

  He gets up and heads to the trash cans at the other side of the room, and I try to enjoy the view for a few seconds. I can’t believe Talon is single, and I’m to the point of saying more than two words to him and way past the point of anonymous spirit cookies. Reagan is out of the picture and we’re still all good friends. Even Reagan and Talon have been civil to each other. It’s perfect.

  Then why do I still feel so weird about it? It’s like my stomach has decided to vacate my body completely, leaving me with this giant hole. And it’s a hole that only Wesley has been able to fill, temporarily, whenever we get the chance to talk about it. Which is hardly ever.

  I shake my head and start counting the breaths I’m taking. Focus, focus, focus. I need to rid my brain of any thoughts that will distract me from my end goal. Wesley and I set out to make Talon and Reagan see us. Here’s my chance. I need more epic moments with the sexy man I love.

  My phone sounds in my purse. It’s Reagan’s ringtone: “Single Ladies.” Her idea, not mine.

  Hey! Wesley asked me out for this weekend! BIG smiley faces!!!!

  The rest of my insides join my stomach on whatever vacation it’s on, leaving me at a complete loss for a response. I should be happy. This is what I want. Instead I’m getting this creepy-crawly feeling starting in my chest and going up through my neck. It’s too soon. Seriously, way too soon for dates. Talon’s going to kick Wesley’s ass, and if Reagan is using Wesley as a rebound, I’m going to kick her ass.

  Wesley better know what he’s doing. Or our love square and our plan will be shot straight to hell.

  I shoot back a quick smiley face, then immediately text Wesley.

  You better hope Talon’s okay with this.

  I don’t expect a text back. But my phone dings almost instantly.

  He is. Looks like he’s got someone else on his mind.

  What does that mean?

  “Kayla?”

  “Oh hey.” Should’ve practiced that line too, since it came out like I was caught picking my nose. Talon smiles and sits next to me—like right next to me—his knee slightly touching mine.

  “So guess what? Coach said I could be starting some games next season if I keep in shape. Pretty cool, huh?”

  “Oh my gosh, that’s great!” I reach way down in my empty body for the courage to give him a one-armed hug, filling my chest with teeny-tiny bouncy balls. At least I don’t feel empty anymore. “I don’t blame him. I was just watching the video I took of your last practice, and you were kick-ass.”

  “Thanks.” He squeezes back, his fingers lingering a little on my waist. I’m still all full of bouncy balls, but the action makes me feel half good, half bad. It’s gotta be because I’m not used to the idea of him not being Reagan’s boyfriend. When we wrestled in the snow, the touches didn’t ever feel intimate, and now suddenly they do. And I’m not sure how to feel about them. I know how I should feel about them, but … gah, I wish my brain would just shut off for a second.

  He still hasn’t moved his hand from my waist.

  “So, I was thinking we could celebrate this good news on Friday. Sound good?”

  Ignore that hand, Kayla. It’s confusing the crap out of you.

  “Yeah, sounds great. I think Wesley gets off at like ten, so we can meet up with him and Reagan at his place again if you want.”

  His forehead gets this sexy wrinkle. “Actually, I think those two have plans already. I was hoping it’d just be us.”

  My mouth pops open, along with an “Eh?”

  He laughs, inching over enough so that his knee isn’t slightly touching mine anymore—now it’s a full-on pressed-together knee touch. “I want to take you out, Kayla. Are you available?”

  “W-why?”

  I think I may be in some sort of shock, because I can’t seem to be smooth about this.

  “Why do I want to take you out?”

  I nod.

  He gives me that take-away-your-breath smile, only my breath is still here, and says, “Because you’re fun. I like being with you.”

  Is this happening? I have to pinch myself. But I can’t find the part of the brain that sends signals to my body for movement. So I sit still, forcing my mouth to come up with something other than gaping at him.

  “Um, okay. But I have to make sure it’s okay with Reagan.”

  His hand finally goes back into safe territory, landing on the back of my chair. “I figured you’d say that, since you’re a good friend.” Yeah, right! “Talk to her, but know I’ve already asked and she said she was fine with it.”

  I blink a few times, and he laughs, his knee rocking back and forth against mine. “Will you call me once you’ve talked with her?”

  “S-sure.”

  “Awesome. Well, I gotta meet up with some of the guys from the team. You can hang with us if you want.”

  No. I won’t be able to handle that right now. I need to call Wesley. And talk to Reagan. Then go take a chill pill.

  “That’s okay. I’ll call you later.”

  There’s that smile again, and usually it makes me want to eat him up, but right now I don’t think I could eat anything without puking.

  He gets up, pulling me to my feet at the same time, and walks me to my car. I know he’s talking because his mouth is moving, but I don’t hear any of it. Where am I? Feels like I’ve been plopped into someone’s dream or something, because none of this seems real. And if it is real, why am I not leaping for joy? Screaming from the rooftops about how brilliant I am for pulling off the impossible? Why the hell am I so confused?

  And why do I feel like the only one who thinks all of this is a little too good to be true?

  Progress Report: January 19

  Well, Reagan gave the okay, so I have my first official one-on-one date with Sexy Himself.

  I should be happy.

  But I’m not.

  Step 21:

  Help Out Your Accomplice When He Suddenly Loses Confidence

  (And try not to get distracted by his cowlick.)

  I can already smell Wesley’s gummy-bear-scented uniform before he even opens the door. And when he swings it open, the smell triples in intensity and I let out one of my sighs.

  “Talon’s not here, you know,” he says, and I notice him tugging down his white sleeveless undershirt like he was just pu
tting it on before answering. There are those abs again, and I also catch those lines men have that go straight to, well … their manhood.

  “Um, I came to see you,” I mumble, trying to force my eyes to anywhere but his dang stomach.

  He waves me in, and ruffles his hair. The cowlick refuses to do anything but stick straight up, so I don’t know why he even tries. He pulls open the fridge and cocks an eyebrow like he’s asking if I want anything. I shake my head and go straight to the couch, keeping my jacket tight around my shoulders.

  “What’s up?”

  “I feel weird.” It’s the most honest thing I can think to say. I could tell him I’m confused, that I’m scared, that I’m feeling guilty as hell because I’m going out with my best friend’s ex, and that I shouldn’t feel that guilty because not only am I getting what I want but Reagan is okay with it.

  “About …?”

  “Talon asked me out.”

  “Yeah.”

  “And you asked Reagan out.”

  “I did.”

  I jut my chin out, like hello! Doesn’t he get it? But he just sits there staring at me, his hazel eyes a bit heavy.

  “And it doesn’t seem weird to you that they’re okay with everything? I mean, it’s been less than a month since they broke up, and I know it was mutual and crap, but would you be okay with your best friend going out with your ex?”

  He rubs his chin, his fingers scratching the stubble along his jaw. “Yeah. It is a little weird. Maybe we pulled this off much better than we thought.”

  “I guess so.”

  “It’s funny to me, ’cause I didn’t think we did much.”

  I laugh, shrugging out of my jacket. “You were the one who said subtlety was best.”

  “I am a genius some days.”

  “Only some. Not all.”

  He reaches for his heart but ends up yawning, so his hand makes a trip to cover his mouth instead.

  “Long shift again?”

  He nods. “I really need to find that roommate.”

  “Well, if things go well with Reagan, maybe I’ll be looking for one.”