by Y. A. Love
So, that was that.
Until that day—
When Griffin kissed me and didn’t bash in Aiden’s face.
***
I hope you liked the sample
HIS KISS is available now and only costs a dollar.
http://www.amazon.com/His-Kiss-Young-Adult-Romance-ebook/dp/B00631JXEO
LOVE ME
CHAPTER 1
“Ryan,” I say nervously as he’s entering the bathroom.
He freezes, and I pull the closing bathroom door back open, propping myself against it.
Ryan slowly turns to see what girl is bothering him now—even as he’s going into the bathroom.
He tilts his head quizzically when he sees it’s me. He raises his eyebrows with an amused—though intrigued—grin, “Yes?”
I scan the bathroom. (We’re in a restaurant, by the way. I work here.) I conclude there is no one but Ryan inside, so I hop in as well, closing the door behind me. This does not erase Ryan’s obvious bewilderment.
He gives me a puzzled grin. “What do you want Lexi?”
I’m not sure what has him more baffled, that I actually followed him into the bathroom, or that I’m talking to him, at all, since we haven’t had a conversation since the eighth grade.
I figure I should just get to the point, since he obviously needs to pee or whatever. Only now that I have his attention (he’d come into the restaurant with a gorgeous girl, so I didn’t feel at liberty to ask him my request while I was hiding from him), but now that I have him alone, with his eyes on me like that, all interested and curious and, well, hot—I’m having trouble remembering what I came to ask him.
But then it suddenly hits me, because I get a text from my friend, Carly. My dear, fragile friend. Instantly my reason for stalking perplexed Ryan clobbers me—Wham!
I scold myself: ‘You’re not here to drool over Ryan, Lexi. Sad little dope. You’re here to help your friend.’
I drag my eyes away from Ryan’s. But then have to peek up at him. “Um, you know my friend, Carly?”
“No. I don’t think so,” he says.
Ugh! Yes, he does. He just talked to her last week. She had gushed on and on about their conversation, as though it had been the one shining moment in her sad little world … and yet he couldn’t remember it.
What did she gush about him this time? Well, I don’t want to tell you, because it will warp your image of the guy—and I don’t want it warped. Yet. So, I’ll just say, she went on and on about the sweet thing he did … and I have to say, what he did was sweet. It really, really was. But Ryan isn’t sweet. (Just making that clear—I didn’t follow him into the bathroom because I think he’s sweet. Or because I want him. Sadly, it’s poor Carly that wants him.)
I roll my eyes, “Yes, you know Carly, Ryan.”
He shrugs. “If you say so.”
Okay, he probably doesn’t remember her. He has tons of girls after him. And it was a whole week ago. But come on, they have classes together. Have had classes together since the seventh grade. But the dude is actually clueless about the hordes of girls clawing themselves for him … unless they have curves that make him notice. And, you know, it’s been within a week since they spoke.
Anyway, when Carly called me about Ryan last week she had gushed on and on about him—about how romantic what he did was. She had been so full of longing I could have cried.
So, yeah. Here I am. Following the dude into the restroom.
“I have a proposition for you,” I tell him.
His eyebrows go up. High.
Okay, maybe the boys’ bathroom is not the best place to say that—offer a proposition.
I backtrack, fast. “—it’s for my friend, Carly.”
I can tell he’s still clueless who she is. And not too terribly interested in finding out. As soon as I said the proposal was for Carly, and not me, his eyes immediately lost their spark. No more interest.
“A proposition for your friend?” he says, almost sounding bored. Like he gets propositions about girls all the time. (Sadly, he probably does.)
“Yes, a proposition for Carly. I’d like you to date her.”
“Yeah. No thanks.”
“Come on, please. She likes you so much—and it would mean so much to her.”
When I can see he’s still going to turn me down, I go on, “Ryan, come on. You know I wouldn’t do this—talk to you, let alone follow you into the bathroom—unless it was a big deal.”
His jaw muscles tick. “Big deal to her—or you?”
“Both of us.”
He scrubs a hand over his face. “Why are you doing this?”
“She really, really likes you.”
He exhales very loudly, and dramatically (teasingly). “What does she look like?”
“She has big boobs,” I tell him, knowing he likes that. And it will get his attention more than anything else—I mean, more than hours of description.
He grins and closes his eyes. He juts his chin, “As big as yours?”
“Bigger.”
He squints a bit, looking suspicious. “Let me see a picture of her.”
I quickly scan through my phone for the best picture I have of Carly. She’s cute … but he’s not really into cute. He’s able to get gorgeous. Regularly. So, I’m nervous.
I hold my breath, showing him the best picture I can find.
He glances at it—barely. “Nah,” he says. “Sorry.”
“Ryan! Come on, she’s really sweet.”
“I’m sure she is. But she’s not my type.”
Shudder. “What’s your type?”
His lips quirk. “You.”
A flutter whooshes through me. I ignore it. “Please Ryan.”
He groans and scrubs a hand over his face. He winces and asks it again, “Why are you doing this?”
“She’s been really sad—like manically sad. Like, she tried to commit suicide and just recently got out of the mental hospital.”
“Okay, you’re really selling me on her now.” He says it total deadpan. But a dark sardonic grin tugged on his lips as he said it. (Ryan’s like that—darkly sardonic.)
“You could cheer her up—just be gentle and sweet.” I give him a tiny look, “You can be gentle and sweet.”
He shakes his head with a little smirk. “That’s not what I hear—I hear I’m ‘callous.’”
Okay, I had called him callous. Once. In the eighth grade. I’m surprised he even remembers.
“Look, it’s true,” he says, not sounding teasing anymore. Sounding completely sincere. “I’m callous. Not on purpose, but I’m not all soft and sensitive, and I don’t want that kind of responsibility. I mean, you’re placing her care in the wrong hands.”
I open my mouth to protest, but he gently presses two warm fingers against my lips, softly stopping my words (and my heart). “I’m callous and insensitive, Lexi; and definitely shouldn’t be trusted with a girl on the edge. Don’t put that kind of pressure in my hands, Lexi. It won’t go well—you know that.”
I pry his fingers off my lips. “Ryan, no. You can handle it. You can! For one month. One. Just be super nice and respectful. Get her over her gloomy funk—ease her out of it. Then ease her out your relationship—tell her your therapist doesn’t think you’re ready for a relationship.”
He raises an eyebrow. “My therapist?”
“Yeah. They advise stuff like that. She knows that. She’ll have to accept it. It’s not her … it’s your therapist.”
He scratches his chin, then squeezes his eyes shut. “I’d love to help you out—I would, Lexi. But I can’t be responsible for a girl hovering on the brink. Seriously. I can’t be even be responsible, period.”
I roll my eyes. “Tell me about it.”
“Okay, so why are you doing this?”
“Because she likes you. And … she needs this. You’re good at making a girl feel special.”
He gives me a tiny look.
He grunts, then draws out a breath. “Let me see the pic
ture again.”
I dangle her picture in front of his face.
He glances at it. Sooo briefly. “No.”
I quickly gush out my leverage, “I have tickets to see Roll.”
His eyes flicker with interest. And amusement. “How did you know I want to see Roll? Were you stalking me?”
He had put on a bunch of social pages that he was dying to see Roll, but the show was sold out.
I wasn’t stalking him though. Carly was.
When she mentioned he wanted to see them so bad, it gave me the idea. He could take Carly … since I had tickets to see them. I bought the tickets months ago—the moment they went on sale. I happen to love Roll as much as Ryan. Probably more than he does. But I love Carly more. I’m willing to give up my favorite band for her … if it can make her happy.
Ryan draws out a breath. “You’d give up your tickets for your friend?”
I nod.
“You don’t know what you’re asking of me, Lexi. I can’t be faithful to her—not even for a month. I have a chick waiting outside the door for me—and another I have my sights on once I drop this one off at her house. I’m sort of booked.”
“It’s Roll.”
“Right. I’ll take her to that—definitely. I would love to take her to that. And I’ll make out with her, and go as far as you want me to go with her—for that night.”
“Give her a month—please? One month. Her boyfriend broke up with her, Ryan—that’s why she went there. Not that she’s like that. She’s not. At all. It was just a sad moment for her. But give her some happy moments.”
“I’ll give her a night of happy moments.”
“A month—and no sex.”
He scoffs. “No tickets to Roll is worth that.”
“Fine. Be a selfish jerk.” I start to storm out the door.
He puts his hand on my shoulder, making all the air inside me catch. My knees go weak. He gently pulls me back to him. “You’re not being fair Lexi.”
I know. I totally know that. And I know I had no right to call him selfish just because he didn’t want to help my friend.
I’m being unreasonable. I know that. But poor Carly! She could use a little sunshine. And for some inexplicable reason, Ryan is her sunshine. (Okay, it isn’t that inexplicable. At all. It’s totally explicable. Ryan is tons of girls’ sunshine. Ryan is hot.)
My heart flutters as he stares at me.
He tilts his head slightly, like he’s negating something in his mind.
Weighing his words carefully he says, “You know how your friend feels about me? That’s how I feel about you.”
My heart explodes.
I drop the soda I was slurping. It runs down his pants.
“Oh! Sorry!” I grab paper towels and start mopping him up. Yes, his pants area. Awkward … and STUPID. Yet my frazzled brain is gone, flew away. So, like the world’s biggest spazzy dork, I keep rubbing.
Hello, it moves.
He looks down at me, raising his eyebrows, like what did you expect?
Cuz, you know. I was rubbing him.
I yelp and lurch away.
Unable to look at him, I murmur, “Um, sorry.”
“Yeah, well, you can finish that later if you want. But right now I have something I came in here to do—and then I have a date waiting for me in a booth—and by the way, you’re our waitress. You’re earning your tip pretty originally, I’ll give you that.”
My face on fire, I slog to my feet. “So, you won’t help Carly?”
He glances up at the ceiling for a second, then thumps his forehead lightly against the wall. “I was getting to that before you decided to get me stirred up.” He gives me a sidelong glance. “I was saying: How she feels about me? That’s how I feel about you.”
“Liar.”
“Am I lying?”
“You’re calloused and insensitive.”
His lips twitch. “Yeah, but you’re hot. And I’ve sort of had a soft spot for you since—well, you know—my whole life. I mean, you may have gotten over me … but I haven’t gotten over you—you were my one and only girlfriend. Ever.”
“Well, maybe if you weren’t so calloused and insensitive.”
He grins. “Maybe.”
Then he adds, “But so do we have a deal?—I’ll help you with your girl, and you help me with my needs.”
I raise my eyebrows, “Your needs?”
“Yeah, my need to get you out of my system. Get closure.”
CHAPTER 2
I stare at Ryan. We’re still in the restaurant’s bathroom. I’m still on my fifteen minute break, supposed to be waitressing—and Ryan is still on his date. Nothing has changed, yet everything has changed.
I squeeze my eyes shut. “You need closure?”
“Yep.”
“We haven’t even spoken since the eighth grade.”
“Right. But we used to be close, Lexi … in case you can’t remember. In kindergarten, my mom made me change classes—out of yours, remember that? She said I was forming an unnatural, over-dependant bond with you. Because I didn’t want to play with the other kids. Or you to play with the other kids. I just wanted you. And liked you. Too much. From the beginning.”
I scoff, “Well, you got over that—apparently.”
I mean, the dude has dated every girl in our school. Well, every girl but Carly. Well, every girl that is popular and centerfold-worthy.
He grins slightly. “Obviously I didn’t get over it. Or I wouldn’t be trying to make this deal with you.”
I sigh, knowing this is a bad idea. To even toss him a bone. “Okay, what’s the deal you’re counter-proposing?”
He keeps his eyes on me—like directly into mine. “I’ll spend time with your friend, and in return you’ll spend time with me. A little fun—for both us. Your friend can have her fun with me—I’ll get my fun with you.” His eyes twinkle as he grins, “Come on Lexi, you’ll be helping people. You like to help people, right? So, it’s a win-win—all the way around. You’ll be helping out your friend, and helping me get my closure.” His lips twitch, “Helping people—that will be your fun, right?”
His brow rises as I think it over. He says around an adorable grin, “Come on, like you said—it’s only a month. Ease me out of the relationship, this time—blame it on your therapist. Convince me it’s not me, it’s your therapist.”
He’s just basically making fun of me. Duh.
And he’s grinning the whole time he does it.
He grins now, huge. “What do you say?”
I negotiate it in my head—which I wouldn’t be doing if he weren’t basically calling me out. But since he is … I consider the arrangement, since he’s basically throwing it in my face that he doesn’t want to do it; so if he has to do it, then so do I—spend time with someone I’d rather not. To “help.”
“Fine,” I mutter finally. “I’ll spend a little time with you.”
He grins. “I’ll spend as much time with your friend as you spend with me.” His grin grows. “We’ll make a chart.”
I groan. Then grumble, “Don’t you have a date waiting?”
He nods. “I do.”
He cocks his head. “So, we’re going to start seeing each other on the sly or what?”
I rub my forehead. “I need to think about it.”
His lips twitch. “Fine. Take all the time you need. I won’t go near Carly until you do.” Then he adds, “And I get to date until you do. I mean, openly. Other people—that aren’t you.”
He stresses, “But if you take the deal, I won’t go near another girl for a whole month. Only your dear fragile Carly—and you.”
He raises his eyebrows, “I’ll treat her like a queen.”
CHAPTER 3
Okay, the sweet thing that Ryan did? The thing that had Carly mooning about him even more than usual? It happened last weekend. She caught him following me home from work. He had even admitted to her he was following me. He said he likes to make sure I get home okay.
“
Can you not tell her, though?” he asked Carly coaxingly. Then glanced to the donut shop they were standing in front of. “I’ll buy you a donut not to tell her.”
Of course she accepted. To Carly it was their first date.
But she didn’t keep her end of the deal. Because this was Carly. And it was about Ryan. The guy she’d been pining over all year (even though she had a boyfriend for most of it).
She had called me right after their “date” gushing, “Ryan follows you home from work—every night.”
Well, I only work Saturday nights. So, there was no “every” night. There was at the most every “Saturday” night. But I doubted that was true—that he even did it that often (since he’s a busy guy, spreading his sunshine and everything). Still, hearing that—it had sent a jet of warmth through me, especially when she said why he did it.
She gushed, “He does it just to make sure you get home safely. Isn’t that sweet?”
It was sweet. But you have to know Ryan. He’s sweet … but so not at the same time. I mean, we have a past. Obviously. Since now he’s claiming he needs “closure.” (Roll your eyes at that, because what he needs is a punch in the stomach. The dude has known me since we were four. My mom was his cleaning lady—well, his mom’s cleaning lady. But I used to come with her to work since it was cheaper than daycare. His mom would have me entertain Ryan while my mom worked. It left him thinking I’m his possession. Even now, apparently. FOUR years after I told him to take a hike.
CHAPTER 4
So, to summarize: Last weekend when Carly called me about Ryan she had gushed on and on about him—about how romantic it was that he follows me home (on occasion). “I wish he followed me,” she had moaned all dreamy-like.
Which is why when I saw Ryan come into the restaurant tonight I gave him a second look—instead of hiding from him like I usually do.
I mean, he comes to the restaurant a lot. But I never, ever wait on him. Ever. Though he requests my table, every time. But I always switch with another waitress. They’re always happy to switch with me. Well, when it’s Ryan I’m avoiding. Ryan is a huge tipper—and yummy eye-candy. Though he’s always with a girl when he comes in … which is why I never wait on him. And you’d think he’d get the hint. Though yeah, I’m pretty sure he does. He only does it—requests me—to ruffle my feathers. That’s probably the only reason he chooses our restaurant in the first place—to bug me. Though maybe not. I work at “The Cheesecake Castle.” It’s popular.
