I lower my arm so it’s resting around her shoulder, and she immediately snuggles her head against my chest. A quiet moan escapes her mouth, and I can’t even take it.
I can’t move, I can’t breathe, so I’m just going to sit here, suspend disbelief, and pretend that Bailey Banfield is mine.
…
I wake with a start. I have no idea what time it is, but sometime during the night, Bailey and I have somehow gotten horizontal, our heads in the V of the sofa, me on my back with my right arm under her and my left wrapped around her. She’s curled against me, her head still on my chest, her face buried in my neck.
I feel her breath on my skin. It feels so good it almost hurts.
I know she doesn’t want this. If she wakes up now, she’ll probably be horrified. I know this because I’m helping her prompose to Caleb on Friday, for fuck’s sake, so I need to untangle my ass from this current situation.
Besides, I don’t want this either. Right?
It’s not that I don’t think love is real, because I do. I’m eighteen, though, with a shit ton of personal baggage. I’m not ready for strings, nor do I want any. Not yet. For now, I’m Alex Koviak—happy to match up my friends, but me, I need to be free. I need to move.
She makes this sighing noise that sets my neck on fire.
Yep, I need to move.
Except I can’t make myself.
Even though I’m paralyzed, I look down the length of her body. Without thinking, I touch her dark hair, let a few of my fingers rake through it. She sighs again and moves closer to me.
I put my arm around her again and close my eyes.
Another minute like this, that’s all I need.
Then I swear I’ll let her go.
Chapter Sixteen
Bailey
I’m pretty sure this is a dream.
My eyes flicker open, and the room is dark except for a bluish light, and there’s someone next to me, someone who is breathing in and out, deeply and evenly. It takes me a second to figure out where I am and who I’m with and then I get it.
I remember watching the movie and not being able to keep my eyes open and now, somehow, Alex and I are side by side, his arm wrapped around me, my body pressed up against the length of his. My face is buried in his neck, and I can feel heat coming off of his skin.
Not a dream.
Real.
Get out. I hear a gravelly voice in the back of my head that sounds like the ghost in The Amityville Horror. I’m not a big fan of horror movies, but I made myself watch it, because I wanted to study all genres. I didn’t sleep for months afterward. I know I should listen to the warning, that I should roll out of Alex’s arms and leave, but I don’t. I know that I shouldn’t be here, like this, with him. We’re friends. Friends.
But this feels so…I don’t know. It’s like being drunk, but in a really nice way, all soft and fuzzy like everything is coming through a filtered lens.
Get out.
Ghost voice again. But just like the people in the movie, I ignore it.
Not only do I ignore it, I pull back slowly, and suddenly I’m eye to sleeping eye with him.
I take a slow, quiet, deep breath and blink a few times. Oh my God, he’s so beautiful. Like leading man beautiful.
I breathe in his Alex scent, spicy and a little sweet. Shampoo and body spray, probably. I tilt my head farther back. His hair is a mess, and there’s a crease between his closed eyes like he might be worried about something.
I’m the one who should be worried. This is probably going to end badly, but I can’t seem to make myself care. Before I can stop it, my right hand lifts, and I watch helplessly as my fingers hover near his face.
It’s taken on a life of its own, this hand. It grazes his cheek.
I feel the end of the stubble on his cheek. He probably should shave, but I have to admit I kind of dig it. He looks rugged, like he just came down from the mountain where all the beautiful lacrosse players live, and he wants to ravish me. Which would definitely happen, with my full permission, if this were a movie.
I think we’ve established it is not.
Get out, Bailey. Move your ass.
My ass does not move. Instead, I stare at his lips, which are parted just the tiniest bit.
I lower my hand. Why am I thinking things like this? I’m asking a boy to prom on Friday. Just days away.
I ignore that irritating thought, shift my body, and move my chin a dangerous inch higher. Now I can feel his exhaled breaths on my lips, hot and even. I am not in control. My brain is powering down inside of my head. I move toward him—
His brown eyes open.
We stare at each other for way longer than is normal for two people who are just friends.
“Alex?” I whisper.
In the blue glow of the TV, I watch as his eyes come into focus. He frowns but lifts his hand, and his thumb gently brushes my cheek. “Bails?”
When he says my name, in that deep, solid voice, that’s it. My rational mind flickers off. The last thought that manages to get out before the lights go out—
God, I want him.
Maybe he reads it on my face because he closes the distance between us. His lips brush mine, so light and gentle, like he’s asking permission. Yes is my answer, so I press my lips to his. He answers with purpose, and it’s so incredibly good. I feel all the want in him—for me.
My body hums with electricity. This is too crazy.
He pulls away and stares at me in what? Surprise? Without a word, his pushes up on his elbow. He’s above me, and I lift my head, dying for more, and he smiles that smile, and I am dead. All I know is, it’s not enough. Will never be enough. I need him to—
Ding dong ding dong ding dong!!!
It’s the doorbell, going off like crazy, and someone is pounding on the door like they’re trying to break it down.
What is happening? Too slowly, I understand. “Oh my God, what time is it?” I roll backward, out of his arms and off the sofa. I hunt frantically for my phone. “It’s five o’clock, Alex! Oh my God, my parents are gonna kill me!” I’m yelling at him like it’s his fault, which it might be. “Why didn’t you wake me up?”
“Because I was sleeping, too?” He hops up and pushes back his hair. “Calm down. It’s okay, Bailey.”
“Don’t tell me to calm down!” I can’t. I’m terrified and also confused. What did we just do? What does it mean? “I’m so, so dead!”
The doorbell is still doing its constant ringing, like a fire alarm. Alex runs to answer it, and I grab my backpack while trying to fix my hair, which I’m sure is everywhere.
It doesn’t take a genius IQ to know who’s at the door, but it’s confirmed when I look closely at my phone and see a bunch of messages from Mom and one from Dad that says I’m on my way.
“Where’s Bailey?” His voice echoes through the huge house like the ghost in the movie come to get revenge on the boy who is kissing his daughter.
My heart is thumping through my chest. I sprint to the foyer. “Dad!” I shout as soon as I see him.
Alex steps back, hands up like a criminal, totally freaked out. I’ve never seen Dad so angry. “I’m sorry, Mr. Banfield,” Alex says. “We were watching a movie and we fell asleep. It’s my fault.”
I glare at him, annoyed that he’s taking the blame. “Dad, my phone was in my backpack and I didn’t hear it. I fell asleep. That’s it. That’s all!”
He looks from me to Alex and back to me again as I push my feet into my shoes.
“Button your goddamn pants,” Dad says, “and come home. Now!”
“Dad!” I limp out after him, one shoe half-on. I’m horrified, but he doesn’t give me a chance to explain.
“Now!” he bellows as he gets in his truck, slamming the door behind him. The engine starts up, and he waits for me. I hurry to my car and get inside, but first I glance back at Alex, who is standing looking at me like, I don’t know, like he’s been completely terrorized? Who can blame him?
�
��I’m sorry,” I say, my voice a shaky mess. “I’m—I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.” He smiles. God. It’s his fake smile. “No big deal.”
No big deal? I blink.
Dad honks, and I jump.
“Bye,” I say, then I get in my car and go home so I can convince my dad that my pants were unbuttoned because I’m a pig, not because I was doing things with Alex that he doesn’t think I should ever do. Oh my God, I can’t even believe this. Then the kiss flashes through my mind, and I realize I could have done those things, if he hadn’t shown up. We kissed, and I definitely wanted more.
It felt so good. Like an out-of-body thing. Like, incredibly good.
Dad follows me down the driveway, and I stare in the rearview, watching his mansion recede in the distance, wondering what happens next, wondering why Alex said that.
No big deal.
But wasn’t it?
Chapter Seventeen
Alex
What. Just. Happened?
I stare at her car as she drives away. I fell asleep thinking about kissing her, and when I woke up, holy shit, I actually did it.
Now I can’t feel my arms and legs. For real. I don’t even know how I’m standing. Maybe I’m in shock. I replay the moment over and over. I knew I was in risky territory, sleeping with her in my arms like that, but when I woke up again, the way she said my name with that husky voice she gets when she’s tired…I couldn’t stop myself. Her lips were even softer than I imagined, and she smelled so good, all coffee and sugar.
I kissed her once, and I kissed her again, and I would have kept kissing her, hard and for a long, long time, until our lips went numb. But then the doorbell started going off like a sonofabitch. She jumped up, I jumped up, it was total chaos. She was embarrassed, maybe? Of course she was. Her dad told her to button her pants that were only unbuttoned because she ate three bowls of potpie. That dude scared the hell out of me, and then she scared me. She said she was sorry. What was she sorry for? I don’t know. She wasn’t sorry we kissed, was she?
Shit, I have no idea.
I close the door and pace under the chandelier. I didn’t do anything wrong here. There’s no reason to be worried. I kissed her, but also, she moved in for another. It wasn’t all me.
Right?
It’s five-thirty in the morning, she just left, and I already want to text her. I want to ask WHAT DOES IT MEAN? But my brain is twisted up, and I have to say more than that. Plus, I have no idea what’s happening with her parents. So I don’t text her. I’ll find her at lunch in the library. We’ll figure this out together.
Wait, does this mean we’re together?
It’s weird, but for the first time since around seventh grade when I stopped thinking girls were gross, that thought doesn’t totally freak me out.
We might be together.
Yeah. Okay. I lay back down on the sofa that smells like her. Coffee. Vanilla. Soap. Laundry detergent. Who the hell knows what else? All I know is it’s driving me nuts. I have no idea what’s going to happen next, but I do know one thing—her stupid promposal is off.
I’m going to ask her to the prom.
…
I wake up a few hours later to an annoyed-sounding text from Devon.
Where are you?
No! I was supposed to meet her for coffee, but now I’m about to be late to school, and Coach keeps track of tardies.
Sorry, overslept. See u later
I say I’ll see her, but I’m going to do everything I can to avoid her. I don’t want to go to prom with her—I want to go with Bailey.
I race through the streets of Edinburgh and luckily don’t cross paths with any cops. I pull into my parking spot as the first bell rings, then high tail it to class. By the time I’m at my desk in Environmental Science, I’m sweaty and out of breath.
“Glad you could join us, Mr. Koviak,” Ms. Zacker says.
I try to pay attention for the rest of the class. Problem is, I can’t stop thinking about kissing Bailey.
I need to see her.
When the bell rings, I notice Devon working her way down the hall toward me, waving. Pretending I don’t see, I take a sharp left turn to get out of her path. Almost worse than dealing with Devon is running into Caleb at his locker in this hall. I mean, he has no idea she was going to ask him, so it’s not like I should feel guilty, but she did mention maybe wanting him for a boyfriend, and I definitely am not in the headspace to deal with that right now. I take another sharp left into an empty stairwell where I hide out and hope that maybe Bailey will materialize. I look around at the prison-block concrete walls. The things we could do in this stairwell…
I wait a few minutes. No luck. The bell’s going to ring, and I need to get to class.
The rest of the morning is a dance, avoiding Devon, while I hunt for Bailey. I don’t even care if we talk; I just need to see her and know that she’s okay and that we’re okay. I don’t go to the cafeteria because of Devon, and when I peek through the glass into the library, I don’t see Bailey anywhere. Also, Caleb is sitting near the door. I don’t want to talk to him. I do a quick sweep of the A/V rooms. She’s not in any of them, so I go to my Jeep and finally send her a text. I agonize over what to say for a good five minutes before I settle on:
Did your dad calm down?
I put in my earbuds to distract myself while I wait for the phone to vibrate in my hand, hoping she replies fast, but I’m jolted back to reality when a palm bangs on the front windshield. I look up to see Devon, staring at me through the glass. She’s holding a bunch of purple balloons, and there’s a poster under her arm.
“Shit,” I say through gritted teeth. I rip out my earbuds as she rounds the front of the Jeep to the passenger’s side door and gets in.
“Hi,” she says, a big smile on her face. “What are you doing?”
“Nothing,” I say as she forces the balloons into the front seat with her. “Just tired. What are you doing?”
She laughs. “Oh, nothing.” She manages to close the door behind her, then she reaches out and touches my arm. “I missed you this morning.” Her eyes are wide, bright blue. “Can we have our coffee date now?” She hits me with a big won’t-take-no-for-an-answer grin.
A balloon floats between us, blocking her face. She yanks it aside.
“Devon…” I need to shut this down right away. “I’m not really a fan of coffee.”
I can tell from her smile that she’s not taking the hint. “Kov?” That smile is killer. Devon McGill is totally hot. I guess in a different world, where Bailey didn’t exist, I’d definitely go to the prom with Devon. But Bailey does exist, and I can still feel that kiss.
“Wait.” She reaches into her backpack, pulls out a white paper bag, unrolls the top, and takes out a donut with purple icing. Purple sprinkles. She holds it out to me, then pulls the poster out from under her arm and holds it up. In thick purple letters, it says:
Come to prom with me!
Donut say no!
There it is.
She’s waiting for an answer, but all I’m thinking about is where that florescent AF purple donut came from and the girl who works there who I can’t wait to kiss again.
I’ve hesitated too long, and when I make eye contact, I can see she’s worried.
I’m not good at saying no when it comes to girls. I say yes to everyone. Last year, I said yes to two girls. It’s part of the reason I have the reputation I do.
“Please donut… Get it?” Her smile has dimmed.
“Dev,” I say. “Listen, I think you’re amazing, but I have to be honest.”
“Oh.” She straightens her back and clenches her jaw.
“There’s someone else.” Saying it lifts a weight off of me that I didn’t even realize was there.
She sits up taller. Her jaw tightens even more. “Someone else asked you? Who?” She looks scary mad all of a sudden. “Who asked you?”
“No.” I squeeze my eyes shut. “I mean, not yet. I mean, I’m gonna ask her
.”
She presses her lips together and faces forward. “Oh.”
I scratch my head. I don’t like rejecting anyone or hurting feelings. I’m already thinking of who I can set her up with. Caleb should be free. “I’m sorry.”
“Yeah.” She drops the donut in the bag and hands it over to me. “Here. You might as well have it.”
“No,” I say. “I can’t.”
“Take it.” She lets go, and it falls onto the center console.
“You sure?”
“As if I’d ingest that many carbs.” She half-smiles and reaches for the door handle. “We would have a great time, Kov,” she says, smacking away an encroaching balloon. “I hope she doesn’t say no.”
I hear the “because I won’t be available” threat in her voice, but all I think is, Bailey won’t say no, not after last night.
“I’m really sorry,” I say again.
“Okay. Well.” She paints a smile back on her face. “Bye.” She gets out and closes the door behind her, leaving the balloons and poster and donut. I feel bad, but it doesn’t last long. I check my phone hoping to see a reply from Bailey, something like “meet me under the bleachers” with a kissing-face emoji.
But there’s still nothing. She’d never suggest something that cheesy anyway, even if she wants to kiss me as bad as I want to kiss her. At this point, I don’t even want to kiss her; I want to straight up make out with her. I want to feel everything I felt on the sofa, and more.
Of course, I have to actually find her if that’s gonna happen. I slump down in my seat and open the bag and pull out the donut, slathered in purple icing. I eat half of it in one bite.
The first time I met Bailey, when she was checking me out—not checking me out, but actually checking me out, at the grocery store—all I saw was dark hair and her light gray eyes and also I might have noticed her lips. And her body, too.
I was attracted, yeah, but when I invited her over for Miriam’s gumbo, there was something about it all that was so easy. With other girls, you start feeling the pressure right away—to be the ideal boyfriend, to never look at any other girls, to check in daily, no matter what. It’s too much, man. But with Bailey, it was so good. No drama, we could talk forever, and she was hilarious, and I thought it would be better to keep it that way. She seemed to think the same thing. I convinced myself that being friends would be enough.
Love and Other Secrets Page 11
