Kiss Me (The Keatyn Chronicles, #2)

“I don’t know. Did he do okay? We’ve really been working hard. I thought he would at least pass.”


“Keatyn, look!” She whips out his test from behind her back. There is a huge red circle on the front. Inside the circle is a large, red C plus.

I’m immediately disappointed. “Oh, wow. I’m sorry. We’ll have to work harder.”

She gets a big grin. “Work harder?! Do you have any idea how excited he’s going to be? He failed every test last year. If it weren’t for daily grades, extra credit, and a special project I let him do, he never would’ve passed. This is amazing!”

As more people walk in, she goes, “Shhhh.”



Aiden rolls in right before the bell rings.

And even though I’m still mad at him, I turn around and say, “We get our tests back today. How do you think you did?”

He groans.

Miss Praline makes us wait until the very end of class to hand back our tests.

The bell has already rung. She hands me my test. Apparently tutoring Aiden has hurt my grades because I got an A minus.

She puts Aiden’s test down on his desk, just as I am standing up, and says, “Good job, Aiden.”

I turn around and look at him. His eyes go wide with shock. Then he jumps up, grabs me, lifts me up in the air and twirls me around. “We did it! I got a C! I passed!”

Then, for a second . . .

As he slides me back down his body and sets my feet back on the floor, it happens.

Another one of those moments.

Where we just stare into each other’s eyes.

But then Annie groans, the mood is broken, and I forget why I was mad at him in the first place.

She mutters, “Shit. I got a C too.”

I guess it’s all about your perspective.



Aiden is walking me out of class, excitedly talking about his grade. Dawson is waiting for me outside the building.

Aiden points to me and says to Dawson, “Dude, she’s awesome!”

Then he high fives me and bounces away happily.

“What was that all about?” Dawson asks.

“You know the test we studied so hard for, the other night, when you were mad at me?”

“Yeah?”

“He got a C plus.”

“That sucks. Why’s he so excited?”

“He’s failed every one of his tests until I started helping him.”

“Oh, so a C is good?”

“Yeah, but we’ve still got a lot of work to do.”

“So the tutoring wasn’t just an excuse to hang out with you? Peyton told me he’s really smart. Sorry, I just, it seemed weird.”

“Speaking of weird, your brother was telling me about something today.” I whisper something into his ear. Something Riley says is supposed to drive a woman crazy.

He runs his hand through his hair. “Jeez, Keatie, pretty soon I’m gonna be failing. That’s all I’m gonna be able to think about today.”

Then I remember I have a meeting tonight.

“Oh, wait. I have a Social Committee meeting tonight at 6:30. And it might go late. The dean is going with us. We have a lot to plan. Don’t tell anyone, but we may have something really cool planned for Homecoming. You’ll love it.”

“Tell me.”

“Okay, but you can’t tell anyone until we get it all approved.” He kisses me in agreement. “I think we’re gonna have an after-party. At a club. From midnight until six the next morning. Dancing, VIP section, great DJ. It’s gonna be really fun.”

“That does sound fun. That your idea?”

“Yeah.”

“I think it sounds amazing, but let’s go back to your other idea.”



Mesmerized by my tongue.

8:50pm



Our dinner meeting is quite productive. I knew the dean was coming with us to hear our plans, so I decided to wear a really cute dress. It’s got a chestnut leather bodice with a breezy black pleated skirt. I paired it with some funky heavily-studded midcalf boots. A Fendi ponyhair baguette bag. And a necklace I ordered online recently that is made from recycled items. It has a vintage brass number four on it, for my sisters.

He had already given us his blessing for the project, but tonight he offers to send an email not just to the current students’ parents but to all the alumni asking for donations. Which means our Homecoming after-party is going to rock.

After dinner, Aiden offers me a ride back to school. He leads me to a beautiful creamy white Maserati GrandTurismo MC that I have always admired at school but never knew who it belonged to. I know it has special order paint called Bianco Fuji as well as twenty-inch black Astro wheels. Tommy is seriously obsessed with cars, and the knowledge must have worn off on me.

Aiden opens the passenger door and I slide onto a black leather seat with custom white contrast stitching.

“Nice car,” I say.

He nods his head humbly. “Thanks. Do you want to stop for some ice cream?”

“Sure,” I say excitedly, but then he tells me wants to talk about our dreams. “I thought there had to be weed or alcohol involved for you to tell me about your dreams.”

“I didn’t say there were dreams. I said a dream.”

“Oh, sorry. Semantics.”