A Good Boy Is Hard to Find (The Naughty List #3) by Suzanne Young
Chapter 1
“I can’t breathe,” Izzie wheezed as we were pressed together in the oversized locker. Since she had gotten dropped from the soccer team last month, her endurance had taken a real kicking.
“We should have rethought this.” I tried to get my hand up high enough to unlatch the door. Cayenne pepper! I needed some air. “Move your arm,” I whispered, trying to get past Izzie.
Although our SOS assignments often put us in compromised positions, this space reeked of sweaty socks mixed with Izzie’s liberal application of Victoria’s Secret body cream. I was suffocating!
Finally, just before I lost consciousness, my fingers clutched the cold metal, and we tumbled out. Izzie landed on her cheer-skirted rear and luckily broke my fall as I piled on top of her.
“Ow,” she said, climbing to her feet and rubbing her backside. “I feel concussed.”
“You have to hit your head to have a concussion—” Wait. I immediately popped up and darted a look around the locker room. Our mission!
The place was empty. We’d made zero progress on the Blaze Harmon investigation even though we’d gotten the anonymous tip nearly a week ago. I’d been staking out this field house as if it were my job—well, I guess it sort of was, but I still had other things to do! Like meet up with Joel.
Joel—my ex-bestfriend’s ex-boyfriend—had been extremely patient with my let’s-take-it-slow attitude. After all, he’d just broken up with Kira and I’d just broken up (officially this time) with Aiden. It was a real heartache complication for both of us. But Joel was sweet as honey and patient as molasses. Not to mention adorable.
I glanced at my watch and saw that the players would be back from practice any second. Our source had said that the meet ups usually occurred before or during warm-ups, but we’d been waiting in here for close to an hour and nothing. We’d have to adjust our tactics and regroup.
“I think we’re better off planting a listening device and coming back to spy another night.” I brushed off my pants and wondered if Joel would be around later. Sigh. It seemed like we were always just missing each other.
Izzie nodded and slid open the zipper of her leather fanny pack—horribly unattractive but a must for staking out in tight spaces—and fished out a small metal device. She removed the adhesive backing and looked around.
“Where should I stick it?”
Hm. “Oh.” I pointed behind her. “Put it under the bench; that way the voices won’t be filtered out behind a locker.”
“So smart, Tess.” She beamed and pressed it in place under the wooden seat.
“Now let’s skedaddle,” I said and headed for the exit. Only just before I pushed on the metal bar, I heard voices on the other side. Dang it! I should have suffered through locker asphyxiation for a little bit longer!
“Emergency exit,” I whispered loudly, waving for Izzie to get back. It was too late to get into proper hideout positions now. Thank goodness Leona had planned out a second escape route in case we were compromised.
Izzie and I nearly trampled each other getting to the showers just as the raucous sounds of testosterone echoed through the main room.
There was a small window above the third stall that was just big enough for a cheerleader to get through. Kira had keyed us into it from her early dating days—which were plentiful. Long story.
“We’re so busted,” Izzie said, fretting as I held out my intertwined fingers for her to step into.
“Positive attitude.” I grunted as I boosted her up. There was a loud squeak as she pushed open the rectangular window.
“Go wash your pits, bro,” someone that I recognized as Peter Harrison—tight end—called out.
“Oh my!” Izzie rolled through the window, and I winced when I heard the crash on the other side. Oops. We probably should have moved the outside trash cans as a precaution.
“You hear that?” Peter called out from the main room. I gulped.
I put my sneaker on the shower wall and tried to climb, but it kept slipping down the white tiles. Cracker Jack prize! I was going to get caught for sure.
“Psst.”
I looked up to see Izzie’s pink-polished nails poke through the window and reach out for me. Rubbing my palm across the rubber sole of my shoe, I tried to get it prepped to climb. I stuck it on the wall again and ricocheted my way toward the open pane. I caught the edge of the window, and Izzie wrapped her hand around my wrist.
She pulled as I climbed until I was finally able to hook my elbow over the side. There was a noise behind me that sounded like the door opening, but I wasn’t going to stick around to see for sure. Instead, I used all of the strength I’d built up from lifting my pom-poms these last few years and chin-upped my way through the window.
Once again, Izzie was there to break my fall—this time without having to hit the ground (and luckily the trash cans had been set aside). The minute I touched sneaker to soil, we darted across the lawn from the field house toward the back parking lot, where I’d parked.
When we got to my car, I paused, bending down to rest my hands on my knees. Good thing I’d been working out a lot. That fast dash might have killed me otherwise.
“That was so close,” Izzie panted from the passenger side. She was lying across the car, sweat pouring down her face. Poor thing really should have tried to keep up with her soccer regimen.
“I know. But at least we got out of there undetected. I’ll tell you, Iz. Getting back into spying is a lot harder than I remember.” And it was true. I could have sworn we were much smoother about this! “Check the feed,” I said, and straightened.
Izzie took her cell from her fanny pack and dialed up the line that the device fed into. She waited a beat and then smiled. “Total score.”
“Strawberry smoothie.”
She giggled. “Rex Hartguard just said he wants to bone you.”
I shook my head. “Romantic.” Clicking open the locks, I got into the car. When Izzie sat down, she shut off her phone. We’d listen to the recordings before practice tomorrow.
I smiled a little. Hard work or not, it was still sort of nice to be back in the spying game.
I dropped Izzie off at her parent’s small cottage on Ashland Ave and started toward home. My shoulder was sore from cheering (getting back into the spirituous swing of things was more exhausting than I’d anticipated); my arm had gotten scraped when I was sliding out of the bathroom window; and more annoying than that, my body had picked a horribly inconvenient day to menstruate. I just wanted some ice cream and my pillow.
Wait. Who was that? There was a car in my driveway, but it wasn’t until I pulled in that I recognized it as Joel’s. A smile tugged at my lips as I parked next to him.
“Hope you don’t mind,” he said as I climbed out. “I stopped by the Redmond bakery and picked you up a cream puff. Thought you’d be tired after practice.”
“Practice?” It took a second before I remembered that that was where I told him I’d be tonight. “Right,” I said quickly, closing my car door. “Yes. Practice was brutal.”
He nodded and held out a white paper bag. He looked handsome as usual. His brown hair was expertly tousled. His Pearl Jam T-shirt was fitted, one side of it tucked into his dark jeans.
“Thank you,” I said softly as I took the bag from him. Tired or not, I was happy to see him. He was like a breath of fresh non-cheating air. “Would you like to come inside?”
“Am I allowed?”
My father had been a little chilly toward Joel the other night at dinner. Not that my daddy was rude—he’d never dream of it. But he was just cautious about my new potential boyfriend. I probably shouldn’t have let him in on the fact that Joel was just recently (as in a few weeks ago) in love with Kira. It didn’t lend credibility to our situation.
“Parents are in Portland for a few days,” I said. “You can … watch a movie with me, maybe?”
Nervous prickles of heat rose on my cheeks. Fact was Joel and I still hadn’t kissed. The closest we’d gotten was in the bleachers when he pecked my cheek after homecoming, and that had been awkward. So now every day drew the moment out more, and the tension was becoming unbearable. We should just do it. If he were Aiden, I would just grab him and kiss—I stopped. He wasn’t Aiden. I needed not to think about him.
“Why, Tiny Crimson, are you trying to seduce me?” His mouth twitched with a smile.
I laughed and shook my head, embarrassed at his joke. “No. I just figured a movie with some popcorn would be a nice thank-you for the cream puff.”
“Sure,” he teased. “I know I’m hard to resist. But unfortunately I’ll need to take a rain check. My dad wants to go over my college apps tonight. Fun stuff, you know.”
“I understand.” I moved my foot, crunching some leaves under my sneaker. Joel cleared his throat, and I looked up to meet his eyes.
His smirk straightened just enough for me to take him seriously. Heat rushed over me as he wet his lips. I recognized that sign. Heavens to Betsy! Was he going to kiss me? I was so unprepared!
Joel leaned in, but as he got mere centimeters to my lips, I turned my head so that his mouth pressed against my cheek. He paused there, obviously surprised not to feel the cushion of my lips. I closed my eyes, disappointed that I just totally wussed out, but relieved that I didn’t have to commit to something I wasn’t ready for. Joel was still against my face when I pulled back and tried to smile encouragingly.
“I’ll see you at school tomorrow?” I asked, as if I hadn’t ruined our would-be first kiss.
“Okaaaay …” He looked perplexed. I felt confused. Why didn’t I just kiss him?
“I’m sorry,” I said, dropping my head. “I didn’t mean to—”
Joel reached up to put his hand over my mouth, stopping me from talking. “Don’t explain. I’m pretty sure it’ll only make it worse.” He smiled at me, his slightly crooked tooth poking out and reminding me how much I liked him. “This week I’m taking you out,” he said, still blocking my speech. “So get some rest.” He leaned over to kiss the top of my head and then paused to look at me again. “You know,” he began, “this is nice. We should conduct more conversations this way.”
I laughed and swatted his hand away from my mouth. “Good night, Joel.” He grinned and then got into his car and backed out of my driveway. I waved as he drove down the darkened street and considered my evening.
I’d just spent the last few hours spying on a cheating boyfriend. Then I got home to discover an amazing guy waiting for me. And yet, I had backed away at the last second! It was beyond bizarre. I might have to consult Leona on the matter. Although I could practically hear her answer in my head. It started with a capital A and ended with an n, and went something like, “If you don’t deal with your Aiden drama, you’ll never be happy.”
With a heavy sigh, I pushed her voice away. Right now, I just needed some sleep. The Blaze Harmon mission was draining my energy.
I walked into the kitchen and put the cream-puff bag in the fridge—to be honest, I didn’t much care for them. But I hadn’t wanted to hurt Joel’s feelings. My dad would surely devour it, and then maybe I could use it as a way to get them to like each other. Pastries are generally a good bonding tool.
My house phone rang, and I crossed to pick it up as I kicked off my sneakers. “Hello?”
“Don’t hang up.”
I froze at the sound of Aiden’s voice. He’d been sending me e-mails—nearly every day—and I knew he was in town this weekend. But I’d made sure to avoid anywhere I could bump into him. And now that it was Sunday, I’d expected him to be gone. What was I supposed to say to him? I mean, he slept with Mary Rudick.
Images filled my head. The day I saw her sneak away at the bookstore. The horrifying moment when I saw them kiss through the back window of his car. My eyes immediately watered, and I hung up the phone. My breath caught as I stared at it, half expecting it to ring again. But it didn’t. It didn’t.
From: Tessa Crimson <[email protected]>
To: Joel Fletcher <[email protected]>
Sent: Sun, October 6, 11:45 PM
Subject: I meant to tell you …
I really don’t think Kira is okay with us hanging out. I feel terrible! Am I a bad friend?
Tessa
From: Joel Fletcher <[email protected]>
To: Tessa Crimson <[email protected] >
Sent: Sun, October 6, 11:48 PM
Subject: Re: I meant to tell you …
Are you seriously up stressing about this? I’ve told you, Kira and I have talked. We didn’t break up because of you. Even though I’m completely (and excuse the bad pun) smitten with you, I wouldn’t do something like that to Kira. She knows this.
So can you please let it go? I think maybe you’re reading too much into it.
Now go to sleep! Lol
J