Kiss Me (The Keatyn Chronicles, #2)

“So what should I tell him?”


“I’d teach him a lesson. Say, Oh shoot, I wish you would have asked me earlier, but I already have plans. You’re a woman in demand. Lots of boys want to ask you out, and he needs to learn to plan ahead.”

“But, in his defense, he just heard today at lunch that Dawson and I were through. Maybe that’s why he didn’t ask before.”

“You and Dawson weren’t going out. You were just hanging out. You shared a couple kisses. Big deal. He knows that. He still could have asked.”

“True.”

I don't want to do it, but I do. He can’t think I’m going to come running every time he decides to blow me a kiss or text me.



Me: I really wish you would have asked me sooner. I already made plans.



Hottie God: With who?



“Shit! He just asked me who I have plans with. And I don’t have plans with anyone! What am I going to say?”

“Well, you can say that we’re having a girls’ night,” Maggie offers.

“Except that I already told Tyrese I would hang out with him after the game. He asked me yesterday,” Katie beams.

“Well, shit. Wait. I know.”

I text Dallas.



Me: Do you have plans for after the game tomorrow night?



Dallas: Yes, I’m going to be checking your panties.



Me: Good.



Dallas: Wait?! Really?



Me: Oh, I meant good, you’re free, not good about the panties. Want to hang with me and Maggie?



Dallas: I’m supposed to hang with the guys, but I might have to do a panty check on this girl from my math class. She’s been flirting with me. But don’t worry, you’re still my favorite.



Me: Shit!!!!



“What am I gonna do? I just lied to the God of all Hotties. And I know, even though he can’t see me, that he knows. I know he knows! What am I gonna do?”

Vibrate. Two new texts.



Hottie God: I think you should change your plans.



Dawson: Come outside, now. Please.



“Look at this! Look at this mess! What am I supposed to do with this?” I slide my phone across the floor in front of Maggie.

She reads the texts. “I think you should tell Aiden no. That he should ask you sooner next time, and tell Dawson you’ll be right down.”

“I also think you should tell Dawson you’ll be right down, but I think you should tell Aiden yes,” Katie disagrees.

Maggie considers this. “No, wait. See what Dawson says. Maybe he will ask you to hang out.”

“Wait, it’s okay for me to hangout with Dawson when he asks on Thursday night, but not Aiden? That’s not really fair, is it?

“Didn’t Dawson ask you to spend the whole weekend with him?” Maggie argues.

“Yeah.”

“So, tell Aiden no.”

I don’t wanna tell Aiden no.

But they’re probably right, and I’m too freaking confused to make an intelligent decision.



Me to Hottie God: I can’t. Sorry. Hey, I gotta go. See you in class tomorrow :)



I end it with a smiley face, trying to soften the blow.



Me to Dawson: Coming.



I go outside. Dawson is sitting on the brick wall, looking hotter than ever. He has on an old Cougars T-shirt that looks like it’s grown with him. Like it’s stretched perfectly across his broad chest. The short sleeves show off his muscular arms, and it fits tight against the sculpted abs I know are underneath.

“Hey,” I say, greeting him.

“You’re still mad at me, huh?”

“Not mad, but I definitely know where I stand.”

He kicks his feet, hops off the wall, and grabs me around the waist. “This is where we stand.” And he kisses me.

“I have absolutely no idea what that means.” I laugh because we’re really kind of a pathetic pair.

“I want to take us slow, but I also want to be with you. Look, we’ve both been confused and honest with each other about how we feel, right?”

“Yeah, so far.”

“Well, here’s how I’m feeling. I like you. I’m still getting over her. I’ve been kissing you in front of people, in front of her, even, and I’ve been fine with it, but seeing it in the pictures, well, it sorta caught me off guard. I was feeling good about it, but I wasn’t ready to see it. Look.”

He pulls a little box out of a sack that’s sitting on the wall. He opens it and shows me a bunch of loose photos. Of them. Him and Whitney, looking perfect. Like, seriously, every picture is perfect. Almost fake looking. Where are the adorable photos your friend snaps while you’re kissing? Why aren’t they cuddling?

“You’re a beautiful couple,” I tell him honestly, because they were.

“This is who I’m used to seeing myself with. And I know we’ve only known each other for a week now, but I’ve told you stuff I never could’ve told her, stuff I’ve never even told Jake. She and I were never friends. I worshiped her and then I dated her. ”