Kiss Me (The Keatyn Chronicles, #2)



Tuesday, August 30th

Lick hot fudge off you.

lunch



I love the uniform combination I picked for today. I know I look different, but it makes me feel confident. And when the most popular girl at school already hates you, confidence is a good thing. I’m wearing the plaid skort with a show-stoppingly gorgeous cream Dolce & Gabbana contrasting lace top. Cream burnout over-the-knee socks. Short red cowboy boots. Brooks Brothers red rose stud earrings. Little red fringe handbag.

Aiden taps me on the shoulder. He’s standing behind me in the lunch line and says in a snotty voice, “Can I lick hot fudge off you too?”

What a jerk. “Naw, I think I have that taken care of, but thanks.”

“You’re such a liar.”

I turn around to face him. “I am not a liar!”

“Don’t give me that shit. You told me you just kissed him, and you aren’t just kissing him.”

“Yes. I swear.”

I heard you in his room yesterday after you ran away from me at the track.”

“What, are you following me now?”

“That’s beside the point. Still, I heard you. All Oh, oh, that feels so good. Please don’t stop. And then him saying, I’ll do it for as long as you want, baby.”

He has a very condescending voice when he says this to me, like he’s mad and making fun of me at the same time.

“What are you even talking about?”

“You had sex with him. Don’t lie to me.”

“I did not. And if I was going to have sex with him, which I certainly could do if I chose to, it wouldn’t be when I was all sweaty and gross. You have no common sense.”

“Then what was he doing that was Just what I needed and that feels so good?”

I put my hand up to the side of my head and say, “I don’t remember saying that.”

I think.

“Oh, wait! He was rubbing my temples. Because I was stressed. About you!”

“He was rubbing your temples. Yeah, sure he was.”

“Come here.” I grab his arm and drag him over to where Dawson’s sitting. Unfortunately, Whitney and crew are sitting there too. But fuck it. I don’t care.

“Dawson. When I was in your room yesterday lying on your bed, I told you, Oh that feels sooo good and please, don’t stop.” I even say it the way I said it yesterday, closed eyes, lowered, dreamy voice. “What were you doing to me?”

Tyrese interrupts and is like, “Damn, girl, I don’t know what he was doing to you, but the way you just said it got me all hot and bothered.”

I roll my eyes at him.

Jake is like, “Yeah, Dawes, what were you doing to her?”

Dawson moves his chin slightly to the left and winces one eye. I can tell he’s trying to decide if he should tell the truth or make up something good.

I plead with my eyes. “Tell him the truth. Please.”

Dawson rolls his eyes. “I was rubbing her head, like this.” He puts his hands up to his temples and rubs.

I drop Aiden’s arm. “See! God, you’re dumb!”

Whitney leans over and runs her hand across Jake’s chest. Like it will somehow lessen the effect of what just happened. And I know exactly what happened. She’s pissed. And she’s more pissed than she would’ve been if Dawson and I had sex. If we did have sex, she could say he’s just using me. Rubbing one’s temples suggests something more intimate. It suggests friendship. Something I think they never had.

Shit.

But guess what? I don’t freaking care what she thinks. I’ve had enough of her nasty stares and Aiden’s stupid accusations.

I put my hand on Dawson’s shoulder, lean down, and say in his ear, “Let’s get outta here,” and drag him out of the café with me.

He’s laughing at me, while I’m marching and dragging him madly behind me.

“You’re pretty sexy when you’re pissed. Come sit down.”

We sit on a bench under a big maple tree. He casually lays his arm across the back of the bench. “What did he say that set you off? And was he actually listening outside my door?”

“He asked if he could lick hot fudge off my face too. And yes, he was.”

“Licking hot fudge off you was fun. He’s jealous.”

“He’s dumb.”

Dawson leans in toward me, slowly pushes my hair back off my face, looks into my eyes, and then glances down at my mouth. “Well, I’m not.”

And he slowly kisses me.

We sit on the bench, the sun filtering through the leaves and feeling warm on my legs, and kiss for the rest of lunch.



I almost passed out.

French