Thrown off by the way he’s acting, I end up tripping over my own feet and nearly fall flat on my face. My hands dart out, and I manage to grab something to brace the fall. And by something, I mean Carter’s arms. I also step on his toes.
Super.
“I’m so sorry,” I sputter as I start to move back. “I’m such a klutz. Seriously, my mom’s always saying I have two left feet. I think she might be on to something.”
He grasps my arms, helping me get my balance. “I’ve noticed that about you, too, but I think it’s cute.”
“Ugh,” I gripe. “You can’t think everything I do is cute.”
Jesus, how much does he watch me? First the photo and now this?
He chuckles, skimming his fingers up and down my arms. “The only way that’ll ever be possible is if you stop doing things that are cute.”
Goose bumps sprout across my flesh from his touch. “I’m trying not to, but you just keep saying I am.”
“That’s because you are.”
“Are not.”
“Are.”
“Not.”
He giggles. And no, I’m not kidding you. He full-on giggles, like a girl. And even though I don’t want to, I find it cute. Ridiculously cute.
“Now, that’s cute,” I tease, wanting the upper hand in this game.
At least, I think it’s a game. It’s becoming harder and harder to tell with every surprise and cute remark he throws at me.
His laughter fades into confusion. “What is?”
I grin. “That little giggling thing you just did.”
He narrows his eyes at me, but his lips threaten to turn upward. “I don’t giggle. I laugh. Like a man.”
“If you say so.”
“I do say so.”
“Okay.”
His eyes narrow to slits. “Stop that.”
“Stop what?” I ask innocently. “I’m agreeing with you.”
“Yeah, but in a teasing tone.”
“Yeah, so? You use a teasing tone all the time.”
“Only when I’m teasing.”
“Exactly.”
“Wait? What?” He smiles, seeming a bit lost.
“I win.” I really don’t know that I did. Honestly, I feel lost myself. In this conversation. In the way he keeps smiling at me. In the way he keeps tracing his fingers up and down my arm.
Remember the point of all this!
Get your head in the game!
“I literally have no clue what just happened.” He continues to move his fingers up and down my arm.
Up and down.
Up.
And.
Down.
It feels so good. Too good.
Don’t you dare shiver, Ensley. Don’t. You. Dare.
“What happened is that you got your ass handed to you,” I say, internally sighing in relief that I don’t sound as breathless as I feel. “What was that thing you were saying about sensing a challenge? Because I’m pretty sure I just won.”
He gives me a dirty look, yet he’s still on the verge of smiling. “You can’t win that.”
“How do you figure?”
“Because you never accepted the challenge.”
“I did, though,” I lie with a grin.
His brow curves upward, and in the glow of the fading sunlight, his eyes sparkle with amusement. “No, you didn’t. In fact, I’m pretty sure you said you weren’t a challenge sort of girl.”
“I changed my mind.” Another lie, but teasing him is sort of awesome. “And I told you that.”
He gives me a questioning look. “Um, no, you didn’t, unless we somehow had a secret conversation.”
“Well, apparently, we did. At least, according to you.” I let a moment pass, hoping he’ll finally tell me about this supposed conversation we had that I have no recollection of. But all he does is smile. That freakin’ smile. And those butterflies go all dreamy, la, la, la.
If they don’t knock it off, I’m going to kick their la, la, la asses all the way to dreamyland.
“Fine, don’t tell me.” I pretend to be unbothered, but I’m not. I want to know all about that conversation that I’m pretty sure was imaginary. “I still won the challenge.”
His grin magnifies, like he’s enjoying our banter. “You can’t win a challenge if you didn’t accept the challenge. It’s challenge 101.”
“I did accept it.” I give him a sugary sweet grin. “In my mind. And you should’ve been able to read it. It’s mind reader 101.”
“Hey, I never said I was a mind reader,” he protests through a soft chuckle. “In fact, I said I wasn’t.”
“But, in your mind, you were thinking you were,” I tell him, utterly clueless how we got to this point in the conversation. Having no clue what else to do, I keep rolling with it. “I know because I read your mind.”
“Hey, you said you couldn’t read minds, either.” He’s all laughter now.
“Yeah, well, I changed my mind.”
“That’s a lot of minds.” He’s laughing and smiling and shaking his head.
Normally, when Carter laughs around me, I feel like he’s laughing at me. I’m not sure that’s the case right now. The amusement in his eyes leads me to believe he might be enjoying this conversation.
Then, just as swiftly as his laughter started, he grows quiet.
Really quiet.
Serious.
So serious.
And when his lips part, I panic.
Crap. What the heck is he about to say? Is he going to admit this is all a joke?
“You’re adorable.” He removes one hand from my arm and grazes his thumb across my cheekbone. “I mean, I’ve always sort of thought that, but witnessing it personally …” He doesn’t finish, tracing his thumb up and down my cheekbone.
It feels wonderful, like a massage while eating chocolate. So wonderful and amazing. I really should get some sort of medal for not shivering and letting out a blissful moan.
“You keep saying stuff like that,” I say quietly. “That you’ve always thought I was this or that, but none of it’s been bad.” Words start pouring out of my mouth uncontrollably. “It doesn’t make any sense.”
In the back of my Carter-is-touching-me dazed mind, I know I shouldn’t be talking about this. Not when I’m supposed to be doing the plan. A plan that’s just getting started. But his touches are apparently making me stupid.
A pucker forms between his brow. “Why would I say anything bad about you?”
“Because you do all the time.”
The crease between his brow deepens. “When?”
“All the time,” I say. Never in a million years would I have thought I’d have the lady balls to confront him about this. “Every time you talk to me, I feel like you’re secretly teasing me.”
His eyes twinkle with amusement. “That’s because I am.”
Although I already knew this, I feel like I’ve been punched in the gut. I want to walk away. I should walk away. But the plan keeps my feet glued to the ground.
He searches my eyes, panic flickering across his expression. “I’m not teasing you in a mean way, Ens. I’ve been trying to get your attention.”
“Huh?” What?
He smiles at the look on my face, which I’m certain looks stupid. “It’s called flirting. I guess it probably comes off a little weird when it’s only one-sided, huh?” His smile falters, as if he just realized this himself.
“You’ve flirted with me?” Okaaaay … Yeah… Suuuree …
I mean, I know he said that in the hallway already, but now he’s implying he does it all the time.
“I like you,” he insists. “I always have.”
Those wonderful feelings his touches were bringing go kerplunk.
“I know that’s not true.”
His hand pauses on my cheek. “It’s been true for a couple of years.”
“Not always.” It’s not a question. I know the truth. I wish I knew the truth about everything he was telling me.
&nbs
p; “No, not always.” He sighs. “I know I’ve been an asshole—still am most of the time—but for the last few years, I’ve been trying to get you to stop acting like I have cooties.”
His words make no sense to me and go against everything I’ve believed in for over a decade. I’m not even sure if I believe him now. Perhaps this is another part of his game. Perhaps it’s not. I really don’t know, which leaves me really confused and uneasy.
So, I do the only thing I can think of.
I crack a joke.
“Cooties, huh?” I say through a nervous laugh. “I didn’t know those still existed.”
One side of his mouth quirks up. “Well, I thought they didn’t, but with the way you act around me, I sometimes wonder if I might be suffering from some fictional disease.”
“Maybe you just have a normal disease,” I say with a shrug. “Perhaps that’s what I’m really worried about.”
He blasts me with a half-teasing, half-serious dirty look. “I don’t have any diseases. I’m cleaner than a whistle.”
“Whistles aren’t really that clean. Think about all the saliva and germs on them.”
He gapes at me, and I start to worry if maybe I took this conversation one step too far.
Then he busts up laughing.
“You’re seriously the most amusing person ever.” He hunches over, holding on to one of my arms and forcing me to lean over slightly.
“So, I’m cute, adorable, and amusing,” I joke, feeling slightly shaky inside, like I’m walking on a tight rope. “Sounds like I’m perfect.”
When he straightens, his eyes are a bit watery with tears of laughter, and a ghost of a smile resides on his lips. “You seriously might be.”
“I was kidding,” I stress. I know I’m not perfect. Far from it.
“I’m not.” He looks freakin’ serious.
It’s freakin’ scary.
Then his gaze drops to my lips and before I can even comprehend what he’s doing, he leans toward me.
To kiss me?
I mentally laugh at my thoughts. Yeah, right.
Closer, closer, his lips become.
Okay, maybe not yeah right.
Then his lips brush mine and, holy butterflies, I feel like I’ve kicked my own la, la, la ass to dreamyland.
For the briefest moment, I let myself stay there. Then, for the weirdest moment, I feel like I’m falling. Not in a bad way. Just falling, falling, falling to maybe somewhere I’ve never been before.
Then I remember everything, and I jerk back.
Unfortunately, my two left feet skills decide to make a grand appearance again, and for the second time in ten minutes, I stumble into him and stomp on his foot.
He curses and somehow ends up tripping over his own feet, falling flat on his ass.
I don’t want to laugh. I really don’t. But I’m totally about to.
Yep, I’m one of those people. The kind who uncontrollably laughs when someone trips or falls.
“Oh, my God, are you okay?” I ask with my hand over my mouth.
I’m not going to laugh. I’m not going to!
He blinks up at me, his face full of shock. “I think so …” Then he gives me an accusing look. “I think your two left feet might be a disease and I just caught it. Thanks, by the way.”
“You’re welcome,” I say automatically.
That’s when I lose it and a giant pig snort of a laugh escapes my mouth. Once I get started, I can’t stop. And the more I laugh, the more I have to pee. And being the dork that I am, I somehow announce this to Carter.
“That was so funny.” I wobble around, squeezing my legs together. “Oh, my God, I’m going to piss my pants.”
“I’m glad my pain and humiliation is amusing to you.” He tries to look mad, but I detect a smile surfacing at his lips.
“I’m sorry.” I try to contain my laughter.
“Yeah, you sure seem like it.” He’s smiling now.
Feeling bad, I extend my hand to him. “Here, let me help you up. It’s the least I can do for laughing at you.”
“Actually, I think you might be able to do one more thing.” He slips his fingers through mine. But then instead of letting me pull him to his feet, he tugs me down. He doesn’t let me crack my face against the asphalt, though, catching me in his arms and positioning me in his lap. Then he starts tickling me.
I squeal. “Stop! I’m already about to pee my pants!”
He continues to tickle me. “You should’ve thought about that before you laughed at me.”
“Well …” I try to say as I laugh, “if that’s the rules … of punishment … then …” I tickle him back.
He squeals like a girl, and it’s the funniest noise I’ve ever heard, which does nothing to help alleviate my bladder situation.
We laugh and laugh and laugh, continuing to tickle each other, until I try another tactic and capture his hand. He starts to wiggle it away, but then he freezes as my gaze falls to his knuckles. Well, not so much his knuckles but the fresh scrapes covering the skin.
“What happened?” I wonder, lightly tracing my fingers over the wounds. “Wait? Did you get into a fight?”
He forces a fake smile. “Yeah, with a punching bag. It kicked my ass. Seriously, punching bags can be mean fuckers.”
I don’t know why, but I think he’s lying. “Are you okay? Some of them look really deep. Maybe we should go clean the cuts before we leave. Or I can get you an icepack.”
He stares at me, seeming almost mystified. “I’m fine. I promise.” Then he’s slipping his hand out of mine and tickling me again.
I let out a pig snort and squirm off his lap, bailing out to run upstairs to use the bathroom.
He laughs his ass off, thinking it’s the funniest thing in the world.
Yep, what a way to start a fake date.
Makes me really curious what the rest of the night will hold. And slightly worried I might not be able to handle this. Like, maybe I’m going to be the one to end up with a broken heart.
18
Carter
I know the moment I realize I’m a goner.
The change happened so fast. One minute, I felt in control. The next, I was falling.
Literally.
Right on my ass.
I’ve never had a girl reject a kiss from me, and technically, Ens didn’t reject me right away. For a heart stopping moment, she let my lips linger on hers. They were as soft as they felt when I dragged my finger across them. Softer even. I don’t even know how that’s possible, but it is. I wanted more. So much more. And I almost always get what I want. At least, when it comes to girls. Then she pulled back, and it threw me completely off. So off that I tripped. Tripped. I couldn’t believe it.
To make matters worse, I fell on my ass. Talk about wounded pride. I’ve never felt that before, and I have to say that I’m not a fan. I was about to get pissed, which I know makes me sound like a dick, but I am a dick sometimes.
I was about to let my true colors shine in all their dick-ish glory.
But then she laughed.
Fucking laughed.
Because I fell.
It seemed like I should be getting mad, but the sound of her laughter was doing something weird to me. Or, to my heart, anyway. I wasn’t sure what it was—still don’t. All I know is that I no longer felt in control of the situation.
Then she touched my knuckles with concern on her face and I knew I was a goner. No one has ever been concerned about me. Not my mom, my dad, or even Elodie. But there Ensley was concerned, worried I was hurt. I don’t know why I was so surprised. That’s the kind of person she is. I just never had her kindness directed at me.
And there I was feeling like I was falling.
And I literally have no idea if I’ve stopped yet.
“So, where are you taking me?” she asks after we get in my car and are driving down the road in the direction of the edge of town.
“I’m not sure yet.” And I’m not.
I was supp
osed to take her to this exclusive club, but I don’t know, it just seems lame now.
She deserves somewhere better than a club.
“You’re not sure yet?” She angles her head to the side in confusion.
Unable to stop myself, I reach over and lightly graze my finger across her jawline. She doesn’t react, which leaves me feeling even more off my game.
Dammit, she’s so unreadable!
“We’re going to the lake.” Okay, yeah, we’ll start there.
It was part of tonight’s date anyway and then the club was supposed to be for later. While I might be changing the club part, I still want to do the lake thing because it could be fun and I need fun whenever I can get the chance before I have to go off to college and start living the life my parents planned for me.
“The lake?” Puzzlement etches into her features.
I nod, glad to throw her off her game. “Yep, to see if I can trust you.”
“At the lake?” she repeats with a hint of anxiousness.
I refrain from grinning. “You sound nervous.”
“I’m just not a fan of water.”
“You can swim, right?” If she can’t, my plan goes to shit.
She bobs her head up and down. “But I’m not a fan of it.”
“Well, you might have to be for a couple of minutes.” I make a right turn off the main road and steer down the dirt road that leads to the small lake. “Because this is my trust test.”
She warily eyeballs the lake at the end of the road. “I’m not sure what your trust test consists of, but maybe we could just do a trust fall.”
“We’re kind of going to fall.” I might kind of be falling now.
God, I’m so lame. Seriously, if any of my friends heard the shit going on in my head right now, they’d kick me in the dick.
Maybe that’s what I need.
I wince. No, no guy ever needs that.
Her eyes dart to the area where the headlights illuminate against the short, jagged cliffs enclosing the lake. “No effing way.” She swiftly shakes her head. “No, no, no, no.”
“Argue all you want, but it’s going to happen.” I put the car in park, leaving the lights on.
The Unexpcted Complications of Revenge Page 11
