Austen Box Set

by Hart, Staci

  “Nope.” I popped the ‘p’ and smiled.

  He chuckled, leaning over to kiss me before heading back to the stove to prod the bacon.

  “As for where we’re at — I don’t have a lot of expectations from you or us, not at this point. Just be honest with me. And bear with me, because I’m crazy.”

  “I’ll always be honest with you, and I already know and love your crazy.”

  “Yeah, but this is going to be a whole new level of crazy.” I thought about telling him about Will, but decided against it. I’d tell him eventually, but not less than twenty-four hours after he kissed me and while he was cooking me breakfast.

  He shot me a smile. “Consider yourself bear-ed with.” He turned back to the skillet to crack the eggs, and I watched his back with wonder, half expecting him to break out in song or for woodland creatures to appear to help him cook.

  His phone chimed with a text, still on the table by the door where he’d left it last night. When he walked over and looked, he sighed.

  “What is it?”

  “Kyle gave the two tickets next to us to twins he’s trying to bang.”

  “Oh, God,” I said with a hint of dread, remembering the last game we went to.

  “Should be interesting.”

  “Hopefully it’s not as intense as last time, that redhead and her friend — the underage one who got trashed?”

  “And subsequently kicked out.”

  I laughed. “You can’t show your boobs to the jumbo camera without consequences.”

  “The best was the look on your face.”

  “Which also ended up on the jumbo camera.”

  “Damn, I wish I’d been able to get to my phone in time to snap that.”

  I shook my head, remembering the embarrassment. “I should have made you sit next to them.”

  He put up his hands — one with a spatula in it — and said, “I mean, it’s not like most guys wouldn’t be thrilled to sit next to a nineteen-year-old drunk girl with an itchy trigger finger on her bra, but I’m glad it was you and not me.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. Like I said, you should have seen your face.”

  I chuckled and rolled my eyes, picking up my coffee. “Gee, thanks. Maybe today won’t be so bad. Maybe I can help them take it easy on the booze.”

  “I’ll wish you all the very best of luck with that,” he said as he plated our breakfast.

  I watched him quietly, chasing the fleeting thought that maybe we’d just slip back into being friends. I imagined him just pretending like last night didn’t happen, but when he turned to me with the plates and sat down next to me and I looked in his eyes, at his smile, every doubt fell away.

  We tucked into breakfast for a quiet moment, and I watched him furtively, trying not to stare. But as I absently nibbled my bacon, I thought about his arms, thought about the warmth of his body next to mine all night, thought about his kisses, so sweet and new and full of hope and promise. And the only thing I knew for sure was that I wanted more.

  “So,” he said after a little bit, “we have a couple of hours before we have to leave.”

  “Are you a mind reader?” I asked with a small smile.

  “Why?” He was amused, the corners of his lips curling.

  “Because I was just thinking about how badly I wanted to kiss you.”

  His smile broke open like sunshine. “Then maybe I am a mind reader, because I was thinking the same thing.”

  DOUBLEMINT

  Tyler

  She was the prettiest thing I’d ever seen, sitting next to me that morning. Her hair was wavy and a little unkempt, like she’d just come from the beach, her brown eyes big and full of laughter behind her glasses, a high flush in her cheeks like she so often had. She could have been glowing for as happy as she looked.

  We ate our breakfast, laughing and talking like we always do, but everything had changed. Everything, from the way she looked at me, the way she smiled. Hers was a smile I knew well, one I’d seen in a hundred versions, but the one she gave me then was one I’d only come to know the day before.

  A jolt of excitement sprinted through me at the knowledge that I’d be kissing her the second she finished her eggs.

  I didn’t waste any time, either. I scooped up her plate as soon as the last bite was gone, stacked it on mine, and took it to the sink. When I turned, she stood behind me bearing a shy smile.

  It was the first time since we’d first kissed that we actually stood next to each other, stood so close. I’d never been with anyone so small — the top of her head barely came to my underarm, and when she hugged me, her arms slipped around my waist naturally. Her cheek was warm against the skin of my chest, and I ran my fingers through her hair, holding her against me, shifting to rock us slowly.

  “It’s not as strange as I thought it would be,” she said.

  “Us?”

  “No. You being a giant.”

  I chuckled, and when she looked up at me, propping her chin on my chest, I bent down to pick her up around the waist. Her arms wound around my neck, and I held her there, arms locked, keeping her close enough to kiss, though her feet were dangling a foot off the ground.

  “The only thing I don’t like is that you’re so far away,” I said.

  She giggled. “When you pick me up like this, I feel like a kid.”

  “You’re not a kid,” I said gently. “And you know what you said yesterday? About not being a real girl? Well, you are. You’re the most real girl I’ve ever known.”

  And when her face softened, her eyes velvety brown and full of emotion, I brought my lips to hers to tell her how much I meant it without speaking a word.

  Hours later, we were walking into the stadium, decked out in Giants gear. Cam had on prescription aviators and a Giants baseball cap, her Manning jersey was half-tucked into her jean shorts, and her pretty legs were long and tan. She laughed and skipped ahead of me, her Converse bouncing and arms waving.

  “It’s game day!” she crowed, not caring that some of the other fans gave her a look.

  We grabbed beers and found our seats — some of the best seats in the house, if you asked me. It was a half an hour before the game started — players were leaving the field from warm up, and music bumped over the speakers as everyone filed into the stadium.

  “What do you think, will Kyle’s girls be blondes or brunettes?” she asked as we sat down.

  “Blondes. With spray tans.”

  She chuckled and propped her feet on the seat in front of her. “In matching outfits.”

  “Jean shorts with their butts hanging out.”

  She gave me a look that said I’d wounded her feminist heart.

  “What? Kyle has a type. I personally don’t care if their butts hang out. Or if said butts are tan.”

  “Ugh,” she said with a curled lip before punching me in the arm with her tiny fist.

  But I laughed and caught her arm, pulling her to me for a kiss.

  She sighed, lids heavy when she broke away. “That’s not always going to work, Tyler. But for now, kissing me is a really great way to apologize.”

  I smirked and sank into my seat, propping my feet next to hers. She lined her tiny sneaker up to my big one, then propped her other foot on top. They were the same height.

  We looked at each other and laughed.

  “Excuse us, I think our seats are over there,” someone said, and I looked up to see two girls pointing just beyond me, to the other side of Cam.

  “Oh, sorry.” We moved our feet, and the girls shuffled past. Cam gave me a look when their spray-tanned butts moved past her eye level, and I tried not to laugh.

  They were pretty girls — long blond hair, great bodies — but they looked a little out of place with flawless makeup and curls, brand new hats stiff on top of their heads and crisp jerseys on brandishing Kyle’s name and number. But they’d dressed the part in the spirit of participating, and they had matching kind smiles, so for that, I approved of the two.

>   Cam stuck out her hand. “You’re Kyle’s friends, right?”

  The one sitting next to Cam smiled and took her hand. “Yeah. I’m Tracey —”

  The other one popped her head around and waved. “And I’m Casey.”

  “We’re twins!” they said at the same time.

  Cam laughed. “Oh, my God. You two are adorable.”

  They bubbled and giggled. “So are you.” Tracey said. “You’re so tiny! I love your glasses. I wish I could wear mine, but I swear, I’m so blind, they’re like magnifying glasses. I look like a creepy owl when I wear them.”

  “I doubt that,” Cam said with a laugh.

  Casey nodded. “It’s true. One time, she scared the crap out of the little kids who live down the hall just by looking at them.”

  Tracey sighed. “If the zombie apocalypse happens, I’m screwed.”

  Casey leaned around her sister. “Is that your boyfriend?”

  Cam leaned on her arm rest toward the girls and smiled conspiratorially. “This is our first date, but I think he’s a keeper.”

  Casey giggled. “Uh, totally. He’s dreamy.”

  I waved a hand, smirking.

  “So, how do you two know Kyle?” Cam asked.

  “Well,” Casey started, “we were at Noir the other night—”

  “You know, the one with the aerial dancers?” Tracey added.

  “Oh, of course,” Cam lied.

  “So we met Kyle and some of his friends there at the bar. They brought us into VIP, and we ended up hanging out all night. So fun.” Casey said.

  “So fun,” Tracey echoed.

  The beer vendor came past our aisle.

  Casey wrinkled her nose. “So many carbs. Guess they’re not serving gin and tonics here, huh?”

  “Maybe up at the bar,” I answered, trying to be helpful.

  Tracey waved a hand. “No way am I walking up and down those stairs a billion times. Beer it is.” She stood and ordered a couple of drafts from the guy, who smiled and cooed at the twins before making his way on, calling for his wares.

  Cam had settled back into her seat, and her hand found its way into my lap, her small fingers twisting through mine as the announcer came on to introduce the players. Oddly, it was always the hardest part of the game, hearing the names of players I knew, the cheers of the fans, feeling the adrenaline hanging in the air. It was easier when the game was going to forget they were anything but pieces in a game, but in the beginning, it was always hardest not to imagine myself on that field.

  Kyle ran onto the field through the arches, past the cheerleaders, hands in the air. We all cheered for him, Tracey and Casey bouncing and laughing, and he pointed over at us as he ran past, eliciting squeals from the girls, even Cam.

  We sat back down when the excitement had passed, and before long, it was kickoff.

  Cam and I talked strategy most of the game, with interludes for joking and laughing and drinking. I took every opportunity to kiss her that I could, my hands always finding her, touching her whenever and however I could — fingertips, arms, legs, anything. I didn’t want to be separated from her. Like during halftime when she leaned on my bicep and I couldn’t do anything until I’d placed a soft kiss on her lips, or when the Giants scored and we all hopped out of our seats and I scooped her into my arms. Or once, just in a quiet moment when she peered at me with her lips in a sweet smile — a smile that told me more than words could — and I took her tiny chin in my hand and kissed her.

  I felt like a teenager again, pumped full of infatuation and bliss and longing for her. In part, I think it was the understanding that we wouldn’t have sex, not yet. The kiss was a connection to her that anticipated the rest, promised her more. As much as I wanted to sleep with her, I was enjoying the wait.

  By the third quarter, the twins were tanked: they went from adorable to slurring so quickly, I almost got whiplash. Cam tried a few times to intervene, first by buying them each a gigantic water that probably cost twenty bucks, then by trying to distract them when the beer guy came back around — and he kept coming back around, either because they were pretty or because they were throwing money at him or both.

  Casey was the first one out. She sat down, and the next time I looked over, she was slumped over in her chair with her hat pulled down low, chest rising and falling slowly. Tracey didn’t seem to notice or care, just stood next to Cam, hanging on to her, slurring and talking and telling Cam how cute she was. She even kissed Cam on the lips once, and took about a hundred selfies with her. And Cam endured it all like a champ, entertaining the drunk girl through the end of the game.

  The Giants won, and it was a good game, though I tried not to be salty about the fact that I hadn’t been able to talk to Cam as much as I would have liked, since she had her hands full with the twins.

  The stadium emptied out, but we stayed put. We settled in, killing time before we’d meet Kyle — showers and talking to the press were top of the list for him. Tracey was still talking Cam’s ear off, until she announced, loudly, “I have to pee. Come with me to pee, Cam.”

  “All right,” she said as she stood, but when Tracey stood, she teetered and almost fell over. She grabbed Cam around the shoulders.

  “Whoa,” she said.

  Cam shot me an alarmed look as she buckled under the taller girl’s weight.

  “Hold up, there,” I said, moving to Tracey’s other side. She grabbed my arm gratefully.

  “Thanks,” Tracy said, grinning. “You’re sweet. He’s sweet, Cam.”

  Her ankles were like rubber when we tried to walk, and she wobbled, putting all her weight on Cam, who looked worried.

  “I don’t think I can get her there alone, Tyler.”

  I nodded and took a little more of Tracey’s weight. “No worries. I can take her.”

  Tracey pouted. “Cam, come have girl time in the bathroom with me. Don’t make me go alone.”

  I pictured her passing out on the can and agreed. “You should probably come with us.”

  “What about Casey?” Cam asked.

  Tracey made a chuffing sound. “She’s fine. She always passes out. I swear, I can’t take her anywhere.”

  “Think she’s okay by herself here?” Cam asked, seeming unsure.

  I glanced around the stadium, which had mostly cleared out. A man and his wife sat across the aisle.

  “Excuse me,” I said to them, “Do you think you could keep an eye on our friend while we help this one to the restroom?”

  They nodded, smiling.

  “Thanks,” I said, relieved. “All right, let’s go.”

  “Thanks, guys,” she cooed. “You’re the best, you know that?”

  Cam chuckled. “I mean, we try.”

  We climbed the stairs without anyone dying or breaking an ankle, and once we got Tracey to the bathroom, Cam helped her in. I heard their voices echoing in the empty bathroom.

  “Don’t leave me, Cam.”

  “I’m right here, Tracey.”

  “You’re so pretty.”

  “So are you. You have the prettiest hair I’ve ever seen,” Cam said, and I could hear her smiling.

  “Nuh-uh. Your skin is amazing.”

  The toilet flushed.

  “Promise you’ll friend me on Facebook, Cam. We need to be friends on Facebook.”

  Cam laughed. “We already are. You friended me earlier, remember?”

  “Oh, my God. Duh. I’m so glad we’re friends.”

  “Me too. Come here, let’s wash your hands. Oh, your lipstick is a little out of whack. Let me fix it up for you.”

  “I want to put you in my pocket and carry you around with me. You’re like the best taker-carer of people in the world.”

  I laughed to myself, leaning on the wall outside the bathroom. When they reappeared, Tracey grabbed my arm and hung her weight on me.

  Her eyes were glassy, and she smiled lazily. “You’re so tall. And strong.”

  “Thanks,” I said, amused.

  We made our way back
to our seats, but as we descended the stairs, I scanned the empty rows, looking for Casey or the couple we’d asked to watch her.

  “Are we on the wrong aisle?”

  Cam twisted to look behind us. “No. Our seats are right here.”

  “Oh, God.” I looked around for her but found only a few people scattered around.

  “Why would those people leave Casey there? They said they’d watch her,” Cam said, frustrated.

  “Wait,” Tracey said, her face contorted in confusion, “those nice German people across the aisle?”

  “Oh, God,” I groaned again before depositing Tracey in the chair that had just occupied Casey.

  “Oh, God,” Tracey echoed, the words full of warning as she hung her head between her knees.

  I turned to Cam, who had taken the seat next to Tracey and had a hand on her back.

  “You stay here and keep an eye on Tracey. Let me go look for Casey.”

  Cam nodded, and I whipped my phone out of my pocket, texting Kyle as I flew up the stairs two at a time. Your twins are wasted.

  My phone buzzed. Just the way I like them.

  No, as in I’ve lost one and the other is about to puke a pony keg on the fifty.

  Shit. Hold the fort, brother.

  I cursed him under my breath as I walked around the stadium. It was nearly empty by that point, just vendors left closing up, but no one had seen Casey, and by the time I’d made my way around to our aisle again, I’d all but lost hope. But as I descended the stairs, I saw two blondes in Giants hats — one passed out like she’d been there the whole time, and the other with mascara running down her face. She looked up at me with a red nose.

  “I threw up.”

  I looked at the slop between her feet. “I can see that. Where’s Cam?”

  Tracey looked around, confused as she wiped her nose. “She was just right here.”

  “Fuck,” I muttered and ran a hand through my hair, pulling out my phone. First, a text to Cam: Are you okay? I’ve got the twins. The second to Kyle. Get your ass here right now, bro. Now.

  When I looked up, Cam was jogging down the row toward us, looking relieved.