The Replacement Crush

by Lisa Brown Roberts

He raised his head and even in the dim glow from the exit sign I could see his eyes were dark with desire. “You even meet bonus criteria.” He paused. “Which almost makes up for the temporary insanity of you pretending I didn’t meet your criteria.”

  He pulled me in closer and I flashed on Amy’s favorite gothic. There was a scene where the heroine almost fainted when the hero swept her into his arms for a kiss. I thought it was stupid when I read it, but now I wasn’t so sure.

  “Bonus criteria?” I whispered. “Like what?”

  “Convincing rock stars to do your dirty work,” Dallas murmured, running a hand through my hair and making me shiver. “Supplying dirty books to sweet little old ladies. Keeping homeless guys supplied with donuts.” He took a small step back but didn’t let go of me. “And the best one of all.” His eyes traveled up and down, eyeing me hungrily. “Looking unbelievably hot in a Star Trek uniform.” His lips quirked. “You have to wear that every day now, you realize that, right?”

  I shoved him playfully in the chest. “Shut up. This dress is not one of your criteria. Not even bonus.”

  He cocked an eyebrow and pulled me in close again. “You honestly don’t think that dress is going to be on a McNerd’s list? Maybe you’re not the hot nerd expert you think you are.”

  “Who said I was a—a hot nerd expert?” I sputtered.

  He grinned, resting his forehead against mine. “You set up an entire sub-genre in the store about guys like me.”

  I smiled against his lips. “You’re kind of full of yourself right now, McNerdy.” It was a total turn-on but I wasn’t going to tell him that. Besides, with the way I was looking at him, I don’t think it could’ve been more obvious.

  “Of course I am. The hottest Star Trek babe in town just told the whole world she wants me. I just performed with a freaking rock star. I’m totally the hottest nerd around.”

  “Yeah,” I said, nipping at his lower lip. “You are.” Then I kissed him with all the pent-up frustration of the past two months, hopefully reminding him of criteria number four: feisty.

  I felt like I might float away on giant bubbles of giddiness as Dallas kissed my neck, then worked his way up to my ear, making heat streak through me. He laughed softly. “I have to try this,” he whispered, then he nibbled on the pointy fake ear.

  “Hey!” I tried to shove him away but he just laughed and kept nibbling. “Those weren’t cheap, buddy,” I protested, even though they were.

  “I’ll buy you a new pair.” His voice was rough and sexy against my neck, making me sag against him.

  “So I have a few questions,” I managed to say in between gasps as he moved his kisses to the other Vulcan ear.

  “I have a few answers.” He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “Go.”

  “After the fight with Jake…you hardly talked to me. I mean, I knew you were worried about me, but you were so distant.” I hesitated. “Not like, um, you are right now.”

  His arms tightened around my waist. “I was giving you space. I thought you might need it, after Jake.” He sighed. “And I felt guilty about Kylie. I only dated her because you rejected me. It wasn’t fair to her or you. I got my feelings hurt and I didn’t care who I hurt in return.”

  I looked down, overwhelmed by guilt. “I’m sorry.”

  “My mistake, not yours.” He lifted my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze. “I apologized to her. She wasn’t happy, but I couldn’t keep pretending.” He shrugged. “I was going to ask you out over winter break.” He kissed me softly. “You beat me to it.”

  After more kissing, I pulled away again. “One more question. Why are you here?”

  He stared at me like I was nuts. “Um, because you just told the entire town you’re madly in love with me. And admitted your stupid mission was an epic fail.”

  I shoved against his chest, laughing. “You think I’m madly in love with you, Dallas Lang?” I smirked, and he feigned offense. “Okay, so maybe I am. What I mean is, why did you perform? With Fisk?”

  He leaned against the wall, pulling me into him. “Fisk asked me. He said he’d agreed to help out at the talent show, but he wanted a special accompanist.” He shrugged, grinning. “He and I practiced together at The Lodge because he said he wanted it to be a surprise. I had no idea you were behind the whole thing.”

  I frowned, trying to figure it all out. “But how do you know him? I mean, it’s not like he Googled Shady Cove cellist and…” My voice trailed away as the pieces clicked into place. Dallas darting out of the store when his cell pinged with messages. Dallas’s Midwestern ninja competition dominance. The funny look Fisk gave me when he saw Dallas in the store. The questions he’d asked about how well I knew Dallas.

  “You’re Fisk’s secret ninja trainer, aren’t you?” I whispered, as his lips brushed mine again, almost distracting me from my Lois Lane questions. “For the movie he’s filming?”

  “Not exactly,” he whispered, his lips against mine. “We’re about the same size, so his sensei asked me to spar with him. They wanted to keep it low key. No paparazzi. Or stalkers like your buddy Jaz.”

  “That’s why you always had to run out of the store. Ninja training.”

  He kissed me again, then pulled away to look into my eyes. “Now you tell me how you know him. How you talked him into this.”

  “Um, it’s kind of a long story. But I knew I had to tell you how I felt. And I wanted to make it…big. Because I screwed up big. Fisk and I are kind of buddies. He came to the shop a few times to get out of The Lodge…and I supply his grandma with book crack.” I laughed as his brow furrowed in confusion. Before he could cut in, I continued. “You know me. I read too many books with insanely happy endings. Go big or go home, right?”

  “Are you saying I’m your HEA? Or at least your HFN?” His smile was teasing, but I knew he wanted a real answer.

  “Mission accomplished, Captain Kirk. Target acquired.”

  ...

  Much later, after so much kissing I thought my lips might fall off, we left the theater together holding hands. “I almost forgot.” I stopped to dig through my messenger bag, then pulled out the clumsily wrapped present.

  “You got me a present?” He looked surprised and happy.

  “Last ditch bribery attempt. In case the song didn’t work or the, um, kissing.”

  He raised an eyebrow, giving me a heated look. “You didn’t need to worry about the kissing.”

  I blushed under his hot gaze. “Open it.”

  He shot me a crooked grin, then tore open the paper in one fast move.

  “Geez.” I laughed. “You’re worse than a little kid.”

  “I love presents.” He grinned again as he held the ball of fur. “You got me a Tribble?”

  I nodded, biting my lip nervously. “Dorkiest present ever?”

  He laughed. “Yeah. But it’s from you, so it’s also the best present ever.” He tossed the wrapping paper into a nearby recycling bin, then pulled me close as we strolled down the beach path lit by twinkling Christmas lights wrapped around the lamp posts.

  “Psst.”

  We turned to each other. “Did you hear that?” I asked. Dallas nodded.

  “Psst. Over here.”

  I squinted in the darkness. The Unabomber sat on the homeless guys’ bench, hidden in the shadows.

  “Fisk! What are you doing here?”

  “Shh,” he whispered, but when he stood up to meet us, he was grinning. “I don’t even want to ask what took you two so long to leave the theater.”

  I knew we were both blushing, but Dallas spoke first. “Shut it, Hollywood.”

  Fisk took off his sunglasses and laughed, then slugged Dallas in the shoulder. “Was that the best song ever or what? We’ve already got like a zillion hits on YouTube.”

  “No way,” I said.

  “Sure.” Fisk waved his phone at us. “Everybody had their phones. Plus somebody filmed it as part of the fundraiser DVD.” He grinned at me. “You’re captured forever on the internet as the ne
rdy girl with the Spock ears.”

  “Great.” I groaned.

  “Anyway,” Fisk said. “I wanted to make sure you two kids finally admitted how madly in love you are.”

  “Dude,” Dallas said. “Don’t forget I can still kick your ass.”

  “Not for much longer,” Fisk said. “I’m getting pretty good.”

  Dallas grinned at him. “Yeah.”

  “You totally played us,” I said, knowing my smile was even goofier than Dallas’s. “You’re like a real-life Cupid.”

  Fisk shrugged again, but he looked ridiculously pleased with himself. “I haven’t had that much fun in a long time.” He glanced back and forth between us and waggled his eyebrows suggestively. “So?”

  “So you don’t have to worry,” I said. “We, um, got everything cleared up.”

  Fisk’s eyebrows shot up. “Is that what the kids are calling it these days? Clearing things up?”

  “Watch it, Hollywood,” Dallas growled. “You know I’m not impressed by your shtick.”

  Fisk grinned at him. “That’s why I love you, man.” He glanced at me. “You, too, Viv. You two are awesome. You belong together.”

  “Is this when you break into song again?” I teased. “Because I wouldn’t mind an encore.”

  “Name it,” Fisk said, glancing around. “Nobody here but us.”

  “No thanks,” Dallas said. “I’ll see you later. Prepare to have your butt kicked at our next training.”

  They fist-bumped each other and did the dude hug, then Dallas took my hand and we started walking. We hadn’t gotten far when I heard Fisk’s unmistakable voice floating behind us on the breeze, singing an old Paul McCartney and Wings song about silly love songs.

  “I haven’t had enough of silly love songs,” I said to Dallas. “Have you?”

  “Not as long as they’re dedicated to me,” he said, stopping to pull me into him. “By you.”

  I reached up to remove my Vulcan ears, but he stopped me. “Not til I get a picture first. Vivian the Vulcan admits she was wrong and that she wanted the McNerd all along.”

  “Um, according to Fisk I’ve already done that on YouTube for the whole world to see.”

  “Yeah, but this is for us. Just us.” He pulled out his phone and took a selfie of us, me making a judgy Spock face and him making a crazy Kirk face.

  “We’re pretty hot,” I said, laughing. “For a couple of nerds.”

  “Oh yeah,” Dallas said. “Total dork royalty.”

  “The McNerd king and his Bookworm queen.” I locked my hands behind his neck, standing on tiptoes to nibble on his earlobe.

  He stumbled backward, pulling me with him. “God, Viv. You’re killing me.”

  “We wasted a lot of time,” I breathed into his ear and attempted a Scottish brogue. “Time to kick it into warp speed, Captain. I can’t hold on much longer.”

  He laughed into my hair, his hands tight around my waist. “Whatever you say, Spock.” His lips claimed mine again and my body felt like a star soaring through an electric galaxy, sparking and crackling with an internal fire that would never go out.

  We clung to each other like two lost space explorers who’d finally found each other after navigating a dangerous galaxy full of black holes and asteroids.

  Sighing happily, I let the hormones take control.

  It was the least I could do, since they’d been right all along.

  Acknowledgments

  As always, I have many people to thank for helping me transform this story from a glimmer of an idea to an actual book:

  My family and friends, whose support never wavers and whose love never falters.

  My amazing critique partners: The Wild Writers and Lynn Rush.

  My agent Nicole Resciniti, for loving this story and talking me off the ledge more than once.

  My editor Liz Pelletier, who always pushes me to take my stories to the next level and tolerates my weird text messages.

  Stacy Abrams, for bringing insightful editing and fresh eyes to this story.

  Beta reader Allie Bass, who generously shared her surfer expertise.

  Finally—to the book blogging community, this book is for you. I’m in awe of your passionate love of books and the time and dedication you give to reading and reviewing. Thank you for your ongoing support of authors and for all of your reviews: the go-go boots, the granny shoes, and everything in between.

  About the Author

  Lisa Brown Roberts still hasn’t recovered from the teenage trauma of nearly tweezing off both eyebrows and having to pencil them in for an entire school year. This and other angst-filled memories inspire her to write YA books about navigating life’s painful and funny dramas, and falling in love along the way. She lives in Colorado in a house full of books, boys, four-legged prima donnas, and lots of laughter. Twitter@LBrownRoberts or visit her at her website: www.lisabrownroberts.com

  Read on

  for a sneak peek of

  How (Not) to Fall in Love

  by Lisa Brown Roberts

  Chapter One

  September 1

  “Hey Darcy! You’d better get outside. There’s a tow truck hooking up your car.”

  I stared at Ryan, with whom I’d been in lust since seventh grade, trying to make sense of his words. It took a moment to realize he was not, in fact, admitting he’d been madly in love with me for the past five years, but was instead jabbering about my car.

  “Tow truck? My car?” It was like he spoke Klingon and I didn’t have a universal translator.

  “Yeah.” His blue eyes flashed with excitement. “You should hurry. They can really screw up your transmission.” He tossed his messily perfect bangs out of his eyes. “I guess they’re serious about us not parking in the handicapped spots. But dude, that’s harsh.”

  Handicapped spots? I never parked in those. My brain finally kicked into gear and I slammed my locker shut.

  “Thanks.” I took off down the hall, out the main doors, then cut across the manicured soccer field toward the parking lot. As I ran, my stomach roller-coastered. Did I really park illegally? Dad would kill me if he had to pay to get my car out of an impound lot.

  My Audi was already loaded onto the tow truck by the time I got there. A swelling crowd of my classmates milled around, pointing and exclaiming. The one using great dramatic expression and lots of gesturing was Sal, my best friend and queen of the theater club, AKA “DQ” for Drama Queen. Sal was always on the verge of being in full costume, like today in her weird grandma prairie dress and suede-fringed boots with fake spurs. She looked like a demented cowgirl, especially with her short, spiky black hair and goth makeup.

  “I demand to see a warrant! You can’t just come onto private property and take someone’s car. My father is a lawyer and—”

  “Can it, kid,” said the tow truck driver. He hopped off the back of the truck where he’d been adjusting the cobweb of chains trapping my car. He paused before climbing into the truck, then his voice boomed loud enough to reach the whole crowd. “When the bills ain’t paid, the car goes away.”

  I froze. Bills not paid? That was impossible. My dad was Tyler Covington, the face of Tri!Umphant! Harvest Motivational Industries. He had his own TV show. Just on PBS, but still. Money couldn’t possibly be an issue.

  No one had noticed me yet. Maybe I could duck behind the other cars and hide until the tow truck left. Unlike my dad and Sal, who both thrived on an audience, I was queen of the mice, always skittering around corners and on the watch for potential traps.

  Sal spotted me. “Darcy!” Everyone turned to stare. So much for avoiding the spotlight. “Darcy, come tell this man this is your car. Show him your driver’s license or something!” Sal was freaking out like it was her car being towed.

  The tow truck man leaned out of his window. “Like I said, if you don’t pay your bills, you don’t keep your car.” The truck roared to life, slowing as it passed me. The driver tossed an envelope out the window. As it fluttered to the ground, Sal ran to gr
ab it.

  “When you come get your car out of the impound lot,” the driver called, “bring cash. We don’t take bad checks.” He laughed and cranked the steering wheel hard, making my Audi wobble like a toy as he exited the parking lot.

  The hive of students buzzed with excitement as Sal rushed over to hug me. Her thick black eyeliner magnified the panic in her worried brown eyes. “Oh my God, Darcy. I can’t believe this. What an ass. This can’t be right. He can’t just take the car from—”

  I held out a hand for the envelope. “Let me see it.”

  She handed it over and I tore it open.

  Notice of Intent to Sell

  This notice informs owner TYLER COVINGTON that vehicle 2013 Audi VIN 214081094809148 has been repossessed due to nonpayment after notice to cure was sent via certified mail. This vehicle will be sold in thirty days at auction. All proceeds will be used to pay off the loan. To redeem this vehicle, bring full payment in form of cashier’s check to High Plains Deals impound lot, 1301 Mountain Avenue, Denver, Colorado.

  A few kids wandered closer to us, oozing curiosity. Sal glared at them. “Back off. Give her some privacy, dorks!”

  Something was wrong. Horribly wrong. This couldn’t be happening. But it had, in front of the entire school. The parking lot was full, with everyone leaving for the day. I imagined Ryan’s face when he heard my car had been towed because it wasn’t paid for, and I felt sick.

  Ugh.

  Things like this didn’t happen at Woodbridge Academy. WA was the most elite private school in Denver. Ninety percent of the kids came from wealthy families. The other ten percent were scholarship students.

  “I can’t go back in there,” I whispered, tilting my head toward school where my books waited in my locker. My hands shook as I crumpled the repossession notice and tried to unzip my messenger bag. Sal took the paper and refolded it neatly. She unzipped my bag and tucked the letter inside, then put her arm around me.

  “We’re getting out of here. Now.” We hurried to her car, a yellow Beetle with daisy hubcaps and DRAMAQN on the license place.