by Sally Henson
He loosened his grip. “Yeah.”
I shifted off of his lap and crossed the tub. I dried my hands on the towel next to my phone and sent my sister a message.
Tommie: What’s for supper?
Madi: Mom’s working on the house. Pizza or Chinese?
“Ugh,” I groaned. “Mom’s working on the house tonight.”
“Good, I’ll help,” Roan said. “I like hanging out with your family.”
I rolled my eyes and turned back to him. “What about this?” I motioned between us. “We can’t be like this around Mom or she might get weird. She might not let you come up to my room or let us be alone at your house.”
He tilted his head, tapping a finger at his temple. “Hm. What if…” He crossed the tub, placed his hands on either side of me, and murmured, “We eat there and then watch a movie later?”
I grinned, loving the way his actions caused my stomach to dip in reaction. “The theater or here?” I gave in to wanting to touch him and let my fingers grip his waist, bringing us closer.
“Either.” His eyes darted back and forth between my eyes and mouth. I stayed focused on his soft golden heaven until our lips met again. This time I was the one who slid my tongue along his lips. His mouth parted and his warm tongue met mine and tangled in a give and take that set me on fire. We were late to dinner, but it was worth it. And I couldn’t wait for more later.
Kissing Roan got better every time.
17
Roan and I followed the line of players waiting to board the bus. “I wish we could sit together,” I said.
“Coach knows what he’s doing, keeping us separated. We need to focus on the game if we want to make playoffs.” He leaned down and whispered, “Besides, I’m still reeling from when you attacked me this morning.”
Heat touched my cheeks, thinking about the way he kissed me before school, and I gave him a heavy nudge.
He stumbled off balance, chuckling.
“I don’t remember it happening quite like that,” I said with a grin, thinking about this morning and yesterday and Saturday’s kisses. My fingers grazed his, but he moved his hand to grip the strap of his bag.
My eyebrows squished together. Did he not want to hold my hand?
He glanced around and asked, “Oh, it did. How about a repeat when we get back?”
He probably thought I just bumped his hand instead of wanting to feel his warmth. He was flirting with me. I think. “Maybe,” I said in a coy tone. At least that’s what I was going for.
The freshman boy in front of me climbed the steps. I knew every varsity player, but I didn’t keep up with the underclassman unless they had some talent. Roan poked me in the back until I took the first step. I climbed the rest and dropped my bag with the others.
Cayla had secured us a seat a halfway back and I slid in next to her. “Hey,” I said.
My eyes trailed Roan as he passed by. My smile fell when he didn’t even glance in my direction. I faced forward, confusion plaguing me again.
Cayla tugged the chords of her earbuds until they popped out. “What’s wrong?”
I shook my head. “It’s probably nothing. I’ll tell you after we get moving.”
“Okay,” she said. She stuck in one earbud and scrolled to her softball road trip playlist. We always listened to her playlist or watched videos together to and from our away games.
Summer and Addison settled in the seat ahead of us. The color of their hair was close to polar opposites. I had never seen anyone with hair as light as Summer’s. She had it in her usual braid for catching.
The bus driver closed the door and eased us out of the parking lot. When we reached the highway, Addison craned her neck and asked us, “You guys ready? This game is ours.”
Cayla agreed, “We own the Tigers.”
I nodded. “I’m ready,” I said, though I wasn’t entirely sure that was true.
Summer raised her fist over her head so I could bump it and said, “You’ve got this, Jenkins.”
After we were on our way, Cayla scooted across the seat until our shoulders touched. “What’s up?”
I sunk down in the seat and let it out. “When we’re at church or school, Roan acts like we’re the same as we always have been. I tried to hold his hand while we waited to get on the bus, but he moved his. And he said it was a good thing that we couldn’t sit by each other because we need to ‘focus.’” I reached back and pulled my ponytail over my shoulder, running my fingers through it. “Do you think he’s embarrassed to be seen with me like that?”
She shrugged. “We need to win this game today. If you were sitting together, the game wouldn’t even be on your mind. And—" she bumped me with her elbow— “who would I sit with?”
“I guess,” I said, not quite believing it was nothing.
“And he probably didn’t know you were trying to hold his hand.” She tilted her head down, eyebrows arched high on her forehead. “We are talking about Roan here.”
I giggled. Cayla made Roan out to be a Neanderthal. He was a smart guy though. They just didn’t always see eye to eye on things. “Did you see him walk by? He didn’t even look at me.”
“Oh, my gosh, girl. Don’t go all possessive girlfriend,” she grumbled, shaking her head. “You’re worried about nothing.”
I sucked in a deep breath and blew it out. Questions ran through me. It didn’t feel right, but I had been wrong about reading guys forever. I didn’t want to be that kind of girlfriend. “I definitely don’t want to go there.”
Cayla held her hand out for the plug of my headphones. “Now, let’s get in the zone.”
I unwrapped the headphone chord from my phone and handed it to her. She took the end, pushed it into the dual headphone plug adapter, and tunes played through it. We hunkered down and went through our routine of music and videos and getting our mindset on winning.
Only I couldn’t stop daydreaming about what Roan said while we were in the hot tub Saturday…or my first tongue-tangled kiss.
18
Cayla checked her phone as I trudged from the bus to Roan’s truck. “Ugh. Dad said he needs me to close up at the store. Can you believe that? I just got back from a game. I’m gross and in my uniform.”
I sighed. The weight from being benched still sat heavy on my chest. At least Mazzie pulled out a win. “Sorry you have to go in.”
She gave me a side hug and asked, “You going to be okay?”
“Yeah,” I said, though I wasn’t sure.
“Okay. I need to hurry. Talk later,” she called as she jogged to her Jeep.
The softball team had already passed me, and even some of the baseball team, I was going so slow. I didn’t feel like moving faster.
Roan caught up with me as soon as Cayla got in her Jeep. He stretched his arm across my shoulders and pulled me close. “Don’t let London get to you. She’s a spoiled wannabe. You’re better than this, Toms. You’re the best pitcher around. And after playoffs, you’ll get recruited to one of the colleges that were too dumb the first go-around.”
I slid my arm around his waist, needing his comfort. He didn’t pull away from me this time. London made a joke about me being a man-eater on the drive to the game and got a big laugh from at least half of the players. Which set me off in the wrong direction. She started up again during warmups while Violet Russell was catching her. Making kissing noises during my wind-up, calling me guppy girl, anything she could think of. I let her get in my head. Again. Coach benched me during the fourth inning. “Thanks for believing in me.”
“It’s true,” he said. “Now get your head screwed on right.”
“Yes, Catch,” I said and leaned my head on his shoulder. One breath made me think better of it though, and I straightened. A few inches closer to his armpit made a huge difference.
Catchers wore a mask, chest protector, shin guards, and their mitt was heavier. Which meant they got hot under all that. A lot sweatier than the rest of the players.
“What’s the matter, I sti
nk too bad for you?” he asked.
“No more than usual, I guess,” I deadpanned.
He looped the crook of his arm around my neck and pulled my face even closer to his pit. Laughing the whole time, of course.
We bounced onto the gravel parking lot, and I shoved against his abs, but it was no use. He held me firmly against him. “Stop! Ugh, you’re disgusting!”
He loosened his grip and said, “You’re such a weakling.”
“Ew, you’re so rank.” I elbowed him in the side.
He leaned over and kissed my cheek. “You still smell like vanilla.”
It was probably because I sat on the bench for over half the game and didn’t break a sweat. Since his comment was accompanied with a kiss, I think it was a compliment.
We dropped our bags in the bed of his truck and got in. He started the engine as I leaned over the console.
“Thanks for the pep talk,” I said and planted a kiss on his cheek. He was right. I was tougher than London’s words. I used to have ice in my veins when I pitched. Any chatter the other team threw at me bounced off my invisible shield. It was a little tougher when it came from your own teammate though.
He flashed me a grin. “Anything for you, Toms.”
I buckled my seatbelt before he pulled out of the lot and onto the road. “Anything?” I asked. I could use a public kiss to shut London up. Would he be willing to do that?
He chuckled. “Do you have something in particular in mind?
I bit my lip. This thing between us was new, and the only people who knew about it were Cayla, Madi, and us. “Kiss me in front of London. That should shut her up about my man-eater guppy lips.”
His smile dropped. Nothing but the faint sound of his music filled the air until he let out a long sigh of a breath. “I don’t think we’re ready for that.”
“Why not?” I asked. My heart sank into my stomach. I wanted to prove to London and everyone else that I wasn’t the pariah they made me out to be. I needed to prove that a boy could like me for myself too.
“Just…not yet. Okay? How about hanging out at my house? I’ll even take a shower, brush my teeth, and put deodorant on.” His grin returned and he added a wiggle to his eyebrows.
I let out a giggle. Maybe I was pushing him. He still wanted to hang out, so it wasn’t a rejection. Right? He wasn’t ready to go public…yet. A grin spread across my face, and I gave him a sideways glance.
He reached across the cab and laced his fingers with mine.
He had my full attention. I watched the smile on his lips grow, and he gave me that look I was beginning to recognize. The one that said he wanted to kiss me. “I need my babysitter to entertain me.”
19
“I have some news,” Cayla announced on our way to our foods class. “Logan’s mom is having a barbecue tonight for the baseball team.” She let out a little squeal.
I knit my eyebrows together as I tried to dodge the bodies in the hall and figure out why a baseball barbecue was a big deal. “So?” I shrugged.
“So…” She gave my arm a squeeze. “The softball team is invited too. Since we’re both going to state!”
“Yeah?” Other than school and softball, I hadn’t been to functions where I would be subject to peer interaction. But Roan and I were a thing now, and I could do it if he was by my side.
She rounded the corner and added, “No girlfriends or boyfriends. Team only.”
“I bet the girlfriends aren’t too happy about that,” I said with a chuckle.
She let out an evil laugh.
We entered our foods class, giggling over her crazy laugh, making our way to our table.
“It’s the first I heard about it. When did you find out?” I asked.
“First hour.” She pulled her hair back at the nape of her neck and tied a hair band around it. “You guys are going, right?”
I pulled my hair back too, and said, “I don’t know.”
“You have to. I want to see James’ face when you walk in holding hands.” She threw her arms around me, jumping up and down. “Your first party as a couple.”
Nerves danced around my insides. People started to stare. “Shh.” I leaned closer. “Everyone is looking at us.”
Not so shy anymore, Cayla shrugged it off. She used to be the shy one. I was the outgoing one. Now I stayed home from parties and she begged me to go. Had our personalities reversed?
As the bell rang, she said, “You can put all your doubts about Roan being embarrassed to rest after tonight.”
“I don’t know. He doesn’t want to kiss me in public yet. He might not even go.” I wanted that. Maybe he would hold my hand or something. That alone made me want to expose myself to a party where James, London, and Tommy Styles would be.
She rolled her eyes and groaned. “I know,” she said. “Wear something nice the boys will drool over.”
“Cayla,” I said, tilting my head. “Guys don’t drool over me. Besides, Roan hasn’t even mentioned it.”
She grinned and pulled out her phone, tapping on the screen. I caught a glimpse of Madi’s name and the SOS message to get me ready for the party. “They will tonight. If Roan doesn’t go, you’re going anyway.”
Mrs. Danes handed out the recipes, calling our attention to class. I wondered why Roan didn’t tell me about it.
Cayla closed her locker and shot me a glum frown. “I guess I’ll see you later,” she huffed. She had an art project she had to finish before the end of the day. When she signed up for her senior classes, she put down art, thinking it was going to be easy. It didn’t turn out that way for her.
“You’ll have fun,” I said in a peppy, “you got this” voice.
She rolled her eyes and moped off to her creative destination.
“What’s her problem?” Roan asked, planting a hand on the wall above my head.
Boy, did he smell good. “She has another art project due,” I answered, closing my locker and then leaning my back against it. Roan looked extra nice today in his gray Lucky shorts and his Mighty Lions softball T-shirt. He said he wore it because he believed in me, in my pitching.
He chuckled. “Everybody knows art isn’t a blow-off class.”
I shrugged, looking up at his golden eyes. “I tried to tell her.”
Our gazes locked and my insides turned jittery. Was he going to kiss me? Here in the hallway? In front of all these people? Yes, please.
“You look—” his eyes washed down my body and back— “great.”
He said that when I got in his truck that morning. The way he was looking at me now, his voice, was causing my breathing to tick up a notch. Thank you, Madi, for finding another outfit for me. I swallowed and croaked out, “Thanks.”
He grinned and kept staring at me with his golden kiss-me eyes.
A nervous giggle spilled over my lips. “You look pretty great too,” I said. “Especially in that T-shirt.”
“Tutoring you has been the best,” he said, pausing. He dipped his head closer to me. He was about to say something else, maybe even plant a kiss on my lips, but was interrupted.
“’Sup, Martin? You on for Logan’s tonight?” James asked, clamping a hand on Roan’s shoulder.
My chin dropped to my chest so fast, it might have left a bruise. Did I want Roan to kiss me? Oh, yeah. But just the presence of James freaked me out. I had managed to stay away from him in the halls since prom. There he was, interrupting Roan and me.
Roan cleared his throat, dropping his hand from the wall to his side. “Uh, yeah. I’ll be there,” he said.
“You gonna be there, Tommie?” James asked.
I focused my eyes on Roan and James’ loafers and the white and gray floor tiles underneath. I shook my head.
A puff of forced air came out of Roan before he said, “I’m in the middle of something. Catch up with you later.”
James cleared his throat, pausing before he said in a strained voice, “Sure, man. Later.” I watched his feet pass in front of me and disappear out of my circl
e of vision.
Kissing noises filled the air. The kind mean junior high boys created when they teased. The kind I had heard more times than I could count since prom. I glanced up in time to see a group of guys pass by, including Tommy Styles and London Hauser. This was probably the first time anyone had done that around Roan.
Roan reached through the clique and nabbed Tommy by the back of his shirt and tugged him our direction. The rubber on the bottom of Tommy’s expensive shoes squeaked across the floor. “You got a problem, Styles?” Roan asked with a growl.
I stood frozen in place, hiding my face but peaking up at what was going on.
Roan could be intimidating when he wanted to. Styles’ wide eyes said he was nervous. “No, no problems here.”
“Do that again and I’ll make it too painful to even pucker up,” Roan said through his gritted teeth. “Got it?”
Everyone in the group left Styles behind except London. She shot me a glare, but I ignored her. Styles went into panic mode, waved his hands, and stuttered, “Th-that wasn’t me. I didn’t—”
Roan dragged him closer and got in his face just as James stepped back into the picture. Roan‘s eyes narrowed even more.
James hovered next to Roan and growled, “Answer the man.”
Why did James put his nose in this?
“Mr. Lowe, Martin, Styles, do we have a problem here?” Mr. Dade, our vice principal asked with his stern authoritative voice.
My breath caught, waiting for what was about to go down. The hall had cleared except for the five of us and a couple stragglers that passed by, gawking the whole time.
James took a step back and shook his head. “Nope.”
Roan released Styles’ shirt but kept his eyes glued on the jerk. He answered Mr. Dade. “No, sir.”
Styles straightened his Lacoste V-neck shirt. “I, uh…” He paused, took a step back, glancing between Roan and James. He said, “It’s all good, Mr. Dade. On my way to lunch.”
