Love Me(The Keatyn Chronicles #4)

The perfect ending.

2am



Pressley and Embry have finally stopped giggling and are asleep.

Their enthusiasm is contagious and I had a really fun time too. I’m glad Aiden talked me into going. It was fun to sing along with Katie, Maggie, and Peyton. It was fun watching Maggie and Jake flirt. And it was flat-out funny to watch Riley drag his furry rug into the auditorium for him and Ariela to sit on.

I had fun.

But, yet, I didn’t.

I kinda hoped that when Aiden suggested going with my girlfriends it was because he wanted to sit with me.

But he didn’t.

Instead, he spent the night surrounded by cheerleaders. One of whom was Chelsea, the girl who wasn’t taking no for an answer tonight. Maybe that’s why he barely spoke to me and why he hasn’t texted me.

But I have bigger problems than that.

So I get on the internet and look up problem solving.

Hoping it will give me an idea of what to tell Cooper tomorrow.

What I find, though, makes me think of someone else.

The article I’m reading says that you should always try to figure out the root, or cause, of your problem.

I use my phone to light up the picture of Brooklyn then slowly push my covers back, slide my feet into a pair of slippers, carefully step over the girls, shut the door quietly, and go into the stairwell.

I think it’s time to talk to my root.

I pull up his number as a million truths go through my head. Truths that I haven’t wanted to face. Because that would mean taking some of the blame.

I blamed him for everything that went wrong. Got mad because I didn’t think he loved all of me, yet I forced him to do things that weren’t him. And when he got upset about it, I acted like it was his fault. I wanted to change him when I should’ve just loved him. And I did love all of him. I loved the way he made me feel. Our summer of love was the best time of my life. Things were so easy with him. I was so incredibly happy.

It wasn’t until we got to the city and I pushed him out of his comfort zone that we started to fight. That he started to push back. I slide the waistband of my shorts down and stare at my tattoo. I can picture him, walking out of the water, his blue eyes shining as bright as the ocean, an easy smile on his face, his beautiful bronzed skin, his shaggy hair.

He’s always known exactly who he is.

I was the confused one.

He tried to help me. Encouraged me to show the world the girl he loved.

The girl I wanted to be.

I get brave and press his number.

He answers on the fourth ring. “Keats! Hey, how are you?” He sounds like we are old friends. Not people who fought the last time they talked.

“Uh, okay. How are you? You find your balance yet?”

“No. I haven’t. I’ve been wanting to call you.”

“But you haven’t.”

“I don’t want to hurt you anymore.”

“I get now why you needed me to forgive you.”

“You do?”

“Yeah, you figured out it was the root of your problem. I just figured out it might be the root of my problem here as well.”

“What’s your problem there?”

“I met a guy.”

“I’m not sure I want to hear about this.”

“I’m not sure I wanted to watch you make out with a girl and then stand outside a cabana while you screwed her either.”

“Look, before we go any further, I need to explain and I owe you an apology.”

“An apology? Really?”

“Yes, Keats. I owe you an apology. I was hurt. You'd been to school for barely a week and you already had a new guy? Did I mean nothing to you? The girl in the cabana was my childish way of getting back at you. Do you still love me, Keats?”

I want to say yes. I want to be swept away by emotion. I want to fly straight to wherever he is and have an amazing reunion    . Write an amazing ending to our love story.

“I owe you an apology too, B. Actually, I owe you a lot of them. I’m sorry I tried to change you. You’ve always known exactly who you are. It’s part of what I love about you. I’m sorry I was so confused about who I wanted to be. I know it’s stupid, but labeling our relationship when we got back from Europe was important to me. Everyone was asking me. The truth is I was proud of you. I wanted to be able to introduce you as my boyfriend. I wanted to tell the world about our amazing summer. I wanted you with me. But then you started saying stuff that made me think you didn’t care.”

“It’s not that I didn’t. It’s that I knew I was leaving. I couldn’t expect you to wait for me, so I was trying to be mature about it all. What I wanted to do was throw you in my backpack and take you with me. If all I had in my life was you, my board, and some waves, I’d always be happy.”

“You didn’t want to come to my birthday party.”

“But I did.”

“And you were a jerk.”

“And you kissed another guy.”

“You kissed a girl in your tent before you noticed me.”

“She kissed me.”

“You didn’t stop her.”

“I didn’t. But I should’ve stopped you from running away. Instead, I just stood there, realizing how stupid I was. How immature. I’m sorry I hurt you, Keats. The last thing I ever want to do is hurt you.”

“I’m sorry too. We both made quite a few mistakes. And I’ve been reacting badly to them.”

“How so?”

“Well, when you left me for camping, I lost my virginity to Cush. When you did the cabana girl, I slept with someone else.”

“You were hurt.”

“Yeah, I was and I’ve been blaming you. But I’m the one responsible for my actions. I should have trusted you. You have to trust the people that you love.”

“I should’ve had more faith in our relationship, too. I thought if I left, we’d fall apart. The thought of that hurt. I’m sorry I pushed you away. And then everything happened so fast. My leaving. Your leaving. Not being able to see each other.”

“I don't know if I'll ever get my life back. I don't know if we'll ever get another chance, or if either one of us would want it if we did. But I know I miss you. You gave me a lot of good advice. You made me look at myself. I sucked. I'm trying to be a better person here. And I'm making friends. I'm more myself than I’ve ever been. But there’s one problem.”

“What’s that?”

“I’m finally able to be me. I’m everything I wanted to be. But I’m still like a fake Prada bag because I’m lying to everyone.”

“Meet me.”

“Meet you?”

“Yeah. Like, anytime. Anywhere. I’ll miss a tournament. Say I'm sick and at my hotel resting. But I'll really fly somewhere and meet you. No one will know. Please. I need to hold you in my arms. I need to feel you again. I need to tell you I'm sorry in person, so you know I mean it. I kiss my tattoo every time I go out to surf. It’s sort of my way of feeling like you’re here with me. Like you should be.”

“Vincent got a tattoo like ours. It’s on his wrist in the exact spot as yours.”

“That’s sick.”

“He rubbed it on mine. Got off on it. It was really disgusting.”

“Don’t let him ruin what it means to us. Don’t.”

“I’m trying not to. What does it mean to us? Or, I mean, what does it mean to you, like, now?”

“I was looking at it tonight, actually, and thinking it symbolizes hope. Hope that fate will bring us back together. But I just decided I changed my mind about fate. Fate sucks ass. I don’t want to wait. So what do you say? About seeing me? Are you free anytime soon?”

“I tried out for the school play and got a part. We have rehearsal every day for the next few weeks until it’s over.”

“Really? You never told me you wanted to act. But you’d be great at it. Remember, I told you that. That’s why I thought you didn’t know who the real you was. Because you could effortlessly play any role. You’ll be a great actress if you want to be.”

“I’d like to be. But I can’t really do it if Vincent is still in the picture. You know, I see you every day on my wall.”

“And I have the picture of us on the beach in Biarritz with me always. The one of us kissing as the sun rises. Every time I get up early and surf, I think of you. Always. I love you, Keats.”

I feel like I should say it back, but I can’t. “Thanks,” I say awkwardly.

“It sounds hollow, I know. That's why we need to see each other again. I miss you, Keats.”

“Do you like the surf tour?”

“Yes. I'm learning a lot about myself. I was a jerk to you in Europe. About your clothes. Don't laugh—actually, go ahead and laugh—I bought nice luggage.”

I do laugh. “Seriously? Why?”

“Because you were right. I get better service that way, and I like it.”

“Maybe there's hope for you yet.”

“I’m glad we talked things out. We’ll talk soon, okay?”

“Deal.”

“And Keats?”

“Yeah?”

“Promise me that when this is over, I’ll get another chance.”

“I promise, B,” I say, mostly because I refuse to give up the dream that I’ll get the perfect ending to my script. With the boy who was originally cast in every one of my love stories.
    

Saturday, October 22nd

The best of all of you.

8am



While I’m at rehearsal that literally started before the sun came up, I get a surprise text.



Camden: Call me.



I’m not sure why he’d want me to call him, but my curiosity gets the best of me, so during a break, I do.

“Hey,” he says.

“Um, hi. What do you want?”

He chuckles. “The list is long. But let’s start with my brother.”

“Dawson?”

“Sure. Let’s start there. I hear you’re dating him and Aiden.”

“Uh, kinda.”

“I heard about the panties. That he believes you. But I’m not sure he should.”

“No offense, but I don’t care what you think. Dawson and I have always been honest with each other. Last night, he was brutally honest with me.”

“He wants to get back together with you?”

“He just wants to graduate and go to college.”

“I just don’t want him with Whitney. We can’t let her get her claws back in him.”

“I know what really happened with you two. How you slept with her and dumped her. How she settled for your brother. How he has no idea you were her first.”

The line goes completely silent. I can’t even hear him breathe. I think I lost the connection until he sucks in a breath and says, “You knew all that, but didn’t tell him the truth when she texted him?”

“I couldn’t. I didn’t want to hurt him. Do you know how badly that would’ve hurt him?”

“Most girls would have told him to keep him.”

“I’m not most girls.”

“I’m starting to realize that.” He pauses for a moment. “It’s more than that though. While they were dating, and even now, she texts me. Almost stalks me. Sends me naked pictures. Tells me what I’m missing.”

“Why didn’t you tell Dawson? He’s your brother. How could you let him keep dating her?”

“I wanted to tell him so many times. But I didn’t want to hurt him either. I kept hoping they would break up. That it wouldn’t last. But then, the longer I didn’t tell him, the worse it would’ve been. I kept a file though.”

“A file?”

“Yeah. All her texts. Naked pictures. Stuff she said about him.”

“Why?”

“In case he ever wanted to marry her, I was going to tell him the truth. I needed proof. Here, I just sent you an example.”

“An example! I don’t want to see Whitney naked!”

“Just look at it. You need to know what you’re up against.”

“I’m not up against her. I have no fight with her.”

“She sent me this last night.”



Whitney: You may not have been jealous of Dawson, but I don’t care anymore. There’s a hot new teacher at school. Peyton thinks she’s going to get him, but she can’t have everything. I won’t let her. And he’s so much more of a man than you are. This is what you missed out on. This is where I’m going to do him.



Following is a photo of Whitney, mostly naked, lying on Cooper Steele’s new desk.

“What the hell? How did she get in his office?”

“I don’t know, but she’s losing it. She and Peyton are in some kind of war.”

“Peyton is tired of her shit.”

“I’m sure she is. She’s put up with it for too long, but I’m worried about her.”

“I heard your breakup was really bad.”

“Yeah, I was young and dumb. But we’re friends now. That’s why I’m worried.”

“Have you told her this?”

“Of course. She won’t listen. She has some plan. Thinks she’s going to destroy Whitney and win some stupid contest in the process. What she doesn’t get is that she won’t. Whitney is a devious, scheming bitch, and Peyton is no match for her. She’s too nice.”

“So, I’m supposed to keep Dawson away from Whitney and keep Whitney from destroying Peyton. Anything else I can do for you?” I laugh.

“Actually, yes. I also hear you’re Braxton’s date tonight for a party after curfew. Don’t get the boy kicked out before he even starts.”

“That’s exactly why he’s my date. I’m going to keep an eye on him. You know, he would’ve snuck out anyway. He wants to be just like you.”

“I’m not sure that’s a good thing.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Probably because wanting to be like me already got one brother kicked out of school.”

“Maybe you should reform your bad boy ways. Set a better example.”

He laughs. “Ha! I don’t think so. Not until I find a girl worthy of that. Let’s talk about Riley.”

“When did I become the Johnson brothers’ keeper?”

“I’m not sure, but Riley loves you.”

“I love Riley too. He’s my best friend. I got really drunk after Dawson and I broke up. He took care of me. I don’t remember much, but I think that’s because I knew I was safe with him.”

“You may be the only drunk girl safe with Riley,” he laughs. “He’s pretty protective of you.”

“I know. It’s sweet.”

“I think he has a crush.”

“Naw. He knows I crush on his brother.”

“Me?”

“Nope, Braxton. He’s the best of all of you. He just doesn’t know it yet.”

“Keatyn, if you need anything—seriously, if there’s anything I can ever do for you—let me know.”

“Thanks, Cam. I appreciate that.”



I decide to text Aiden. We’re supposed to hang out today, and I need to find out if he still wants to. I’m also dying to know if he was with Chelsea last night.



Me: Thanks for the advice last night. I went to the sing-a-long with my friends and had fun.



Hottie God: I’m glad. It wasn’t as lame as I thought it would be. We had fun too.



Me: Yeah, I suppose when you’re surrounded by cheerleaders it’s hard not to have fun.



Hottie God: You’re mine today, still, right?



Me: I guess.



Hottie God: I need some luck to win the competition. I also need a partner for the lawn games. You any good at the wheelbarrow race?



Me: Probably not as good as a cheerleader.



Hottie God: I didn’t ask a cheerleader. I asked you. Meet me outside your dorm at eleven.





Now, I’m lazily sprawled out on my stomach across Dallas’ bed. He’s sitting on the floor in front of me, and I’m running my hands through his hair, giving him a scalp massage.

The way he’s groaning, you’d think I was massaging something else.

Riley barrels through the door, laden with bags and a tray of coffee drinks. It smells wonderful, especially since all the boys’ rooms seem to smell like an oddly compelling combination of cologne and dirty socks.

“I’m next in the massage chair,” he says as he sets down the tray.

“I want a massage too,” I say.

Riley raises his eyebrows at me. “Yeah, that’s what we want to hear about. Who’s been massaging you?”

I throw a napkin at him, but it falls shamefully to the floor in front of him. He bounds across the bed on top of me and starts tickling me. Holding my arms down, tickling my sides. I’m laughing and screaming at the same time. “Stop, stop. I give up.”

“If only Ariela were that easy,” he comments as he rolls off me.

Dallas laughs.

“So, Dallas apparently has a secret hot date tonight and everyone knows who you’re dating, seeing as it’s tattooed across your chest.”

“They’re all gone, but I’m thinking about asking her out. What do you think?”

Dallas says, “She’s cute. Seems to be pretty into you. I mean, except for the whole not-getting-any thing. But if you’re going to keep dating her, you might as well. Maybe that will open the gates.”

I swat Dallas’ head. “Stop that. They don’t need to have sex. And, Riley, I think you should ask her out. Are you going to do anything special?”

“Well, I’m competing in the Gods of Olympus competition. I’ll be shirtless all day.” He flexes a bicep at us. “She’ll be impressed.”

I laugh at his confidence. “Yes, she will be impressed. But since her lips have already been all over your chest, I think you might need something more.”

Riley lowers his head slightly. “She kinda has a thing for Hello Kitty, so I got her something to give to her when I ask.”

“Really? Oh my gosh! I love Hello Kitty too! What’d you get?”

“Don’t laugh,” he says, as he pulls a Swarovski crystal box out of his drawer and opens it up.

Inside is an adorable hot pink domed ring with large random crystals on it and a Hello Kitty face.

“Oh. My. Gosh! Why haven’t I seen this before?! I love it. I want it. She’ll love it! She’s going to go crazy with loving it.”

Riley smiles probably the biggest smile I’ve ever seen from him. “You really think she’ll like it?”

“Yeah, Riley, I do. You did really good.”

“So what about you, baby? You into my brother or Aiden today?”

“Both,” Dallas replies for me.

“How’s that working out?”

I eye Dallas.

He gives me a big eye roll back. “I’m sorry about the panties.”

“What panties? What did I miss?” Riley asks.

Dallas reiterates what happened last night in the café.

“Busted,” Riley says with a laugh.

“Nothing happened with Aiden at the Cave. I mean, we kissed.” I roll my eyes. “Still no tongue. Dawson didn’t believe me at first, but we talked and we’re good. Although he also told me that he can’t wait to go to college.”

“Everyone can’t wait to go to college,” Riley says.

“He meant without me.”

“So you’re going to like Aiden?”

I sigh. “I’m pretty sure he hooked up with Chelsea last night. I heard her tell him that she wasn’t taking no for an answer.”

“That doesn’t mean he did,” Riley says. “Most everyone knows I like Ariela, but there are still plenty of girls that tell me we’re going to hook up.”

“Do you want to?”

“No. I forward them to Dallas.”

“And I hook up with them,” Dallas says. “It’s brilliant. And . . . I happen to know that Aiden didn’t hook up with Chelsea last night.”

“How could you know that?”

Dallas smiles broadly. “Because I did.”

I can’t help it. My heart soars. “Do you know why? Did Aiden turn her down?”

“Don’t know. Don’t care. We had fun. She has the most perfect body. As a matter of fact, we’re hanging out today.”

“So, Dallas, you’re supposed to be practically psychic, what’s gonna happen?”

“It doesn’t really matter,” Riley says, wrapping his arm around me. “As long as we stay close. The three of us.”

I think having good friends in your life is an important piece of loving yourself.



It should be illegal.

11am



“Look at you in your bright gold Nikes,” I say to Aiden when I walk out of my dorm to meet him.

“Thanks. I had them sent from home. They’re sort of a collector’s edition. And look at you. Gold shorts, gold gladiator sandals.”

I hold up the gold bracelet with love notes written across it.

“And love on your arm,” he says as he lays his hand across my chest. “Hopefully, eventually, the love will be here and not on your arm.”

Write love on your heart.

Yes. I’m swooning. And I really want to tell him it sorta already is written on my heart.

It’s like a song you’ve always known the words to. A lullaby you’ll never forget.

But I don’t want to sound like I have a crush on a love god.

He looks me over again, taking in my adorable outfit.

He looks puzzled then hooks my hair behind my ear. “You’re wearing just one feather earring, huh?”

I laugh. “Well, I used to have two but now I only have one.”

He reaches in his pocket and pulls out a box. “I found these. Thought you might like them.” He opens the lid and nestled in cotton are golden feather earrings.

“They’re so pretty! Did you get these from Barneys? I’ve seen them there.”

He nods. “Real swan feathers dipped in gold. Made in Paris.”

“They’re beautiful, Aiden. Really. But they were expensive. I can’t . . .”

He interrupts me. “They’re a bribe.”

“A bribe?”

“Yes, I’m hoping I can exchange these for the other feather.”

I gulp. “Why?”

“Let’s just say I’m going to be needing them both.”

“Oh,” I say, taking in his fiery eyes and imaging feathers all over my naked body. “Your mom was right. You’re impossible to say no to.”

What I say hangs there.

Aiden licks his lips.

God, I want that tongue.

Really, he shouldn’t be allowed to lick his lips. It should be illegal.

Like a bait and switch advertisement. They promise you everything but don’t follow through. If he’s not gonna use it, he shouldn’t be allowed to show it.

“The answer is yes. You have a deal,” I agree. Whole-freaking-heartedly.

“There’s more,” he says. “The weekend after the play, you’re going to take me to your loft. I mean, you already invited me.”

“You invited yourself.”

“Do we have a deal?”

I squint my eyes at him. “I have one stipulation.”

“No way. It’s beyond a fair trade.”

“Then I’m keeping my feather. And it’s not like you can’t go buy your own. Feather earrings are cheap.”

“I’ve looked online and can’t find one to match.”

“I have one stipulation or no deal. The feather can only be used on me.”

“Hmm. I can probably agree to that. But what if I wanted to share? One feather for each of us.”

My eyes get big imagining the feather touching Aiden in places I’m dying to see.

“Uh, yeah, I, um, suppose I could agree to that,” I say, fumbling through the words breathlessly as I put on my new feather earrings.

He takes my hand and says, “Let’s go kick some butt in the field games.”



First, we compete in the wheelbarrow race with me doing the handstand part. Turns out, I’m not that good with my hands. And although I can dance, I failed at gymnastics as a child. I’m pretty sure it was an embarrassing moment for my parents when the teacher told them I should be in dance instead. Something about having the attention span of a gnat.

Of course, who wins? Chelsea and Dallas.

Is it bad I hate her? I don’t even know her and I hate her.

And my competitive spirit has gotten the best of me. I want to win. I need for Aiden and I to win.

“You have good hands, right?” I ask Aiden.

“Uh, yeah, I guess.”

“So you be on the ground this time and I’ll hold your legs. I’m strong. Can you do a handstand?”

Instead of answering, he drops to the ground, throws his legs into the air, and then walks around on his hands.

“I hate you.”

He flips back upright and pulls me into his arms. “You sure about that?”

“Actually, yes. But I don’t care. I just want to beat Dallas this next round.”

Aiden glances over at Dallas and Chelsea. Her curvy body is leaned tightly against his and she’s rubbing his arm the same way she did Aiden’s yesterday.

Yes, it’s official. I do hate her.

“Do you want to beat Dallas or Chelsea?” Aiden asks with a smirk.

“I want to beat everyone. So let’s see if this will work.”

He puts his hands onto the ground as I grab his legs and pull them up to my sides. He’s heavier than I expected, but I say, “Go.”

We move quickly for about ten steps and then his leg starts to fall out of my grip. When I try to fix it, I drop the other leg and he goes down, but deftly flips himself over and pulls me on top of him in the process.

I can’t help but laugh. “We suck. I’m better at croquet. We shoulda chosen that.”

“I don’t care if we suck. I’d play anything with you.”

“Maybe I wanna play a kissing game.”

“Like I said, anything,” he says as he kisses me. It’s a powerful lips-touching kiss. I keep thinking the more I’m around him, the more I kiss him, the less power his lips will have on me. But the opposite seems to be true. My kisses seem to be making him stronger. The more my lips touch his, the more powerful the kisses become.

Or, maybe, the more meaningful.

He stares into my eyes for a few seconds before he flips me over, lies on top of me, and kisses me again. I get brave and let my tongue graze the outside of his lips. His lips stay soft but his mouth stays closed.

I’m starting to think his tongue is cursed or something. Like Medusa. If he uses it on me, I might turn to stone.



We compete in a few more games, lose badly, chat with some perspective students, and then I take him to get checked in for today’s big event. The Gods of Olympus competition.

Whitney is sitting at the check-in table with Cooper Steele. She checks Aiden’s name off a list, then hands him his wardrobe. A teeny pair of white shorts, a gold braided rope, and a green laurel wreath.

Aiden holds the shorts up. “Are you serious? No way I’m wearing these.”

Whitney grabs them out of his hands. “Then you won’t be competing.”

He grabs them back from her.

I give her a thumbs up and as we’re walking away I say, “You’re brilliant,” which causes her to give me the biggest smile she’s ever directed my way.

She leans across Cooper to high five me, her boobs landing directly in his face. “Social Committee now officially rocks. I’ve been telling Mr. Steele here how he needs to wear one.” He flinches as she runs a hand across his shoulder. “He’d put these boys to shame. But don’t worry. I’ll have him in one soon.” She gives me a smirk and says, “Or maybe he’d prefer it was later.”

“I don’t think any of the faculty will be wearing them, Miss Clarke,” Cooper replies.

Aiden is still looking at what he’s supposed to wear and muttering. “How did she ever get this approved?”

“I don’t know. But she got one thing wrong.”

“Yeah, half my shorts are missing.”

“No.” I grab the laurel wreath from his hand, place it on his head, and study him. “Definitely wrong. Come on. You can’t compete like this.”

I drag him into the back of the auditorium where all the stage supplies are kept and find some gold spray paint. I grab some newspaper and lay his wreath on it.

When I finish painting it, I stand back up and let it dry. Aiden puts his big hand on my waist, and one of his fingers somehow ends up touching the skin under my shirt.

It’s just one finger. Totally unplanned. Just one finger touching my bare skin that causes my stomach to flip.

“So, why gold?”

“Do you remember that time we went for ice cream and I tried to tell you my dream? About the guy I married and we were—you know—consummating things when he lifted the veil and I saw his face.”

“Yeah,” he says, grinding his teeth together.

“It was you. And you were wearing a gold laurel wreath on your head. That’s why it has to be gold.”

Aiden grins. “Wait? You were dating Dawson. Reliving something the two of you had done and you thought it was him but it was me?”

“Right. I didn't know who it was that I was marrying.”

“Why didn't you tell me it was me?”

“Because you drove off like a maniac and wouldn't talk to me. I even asked if you wanted to know and you were like I decided I don't care.”

“So you've been dreaming about marrying me?”

“Not on purpose. I just thought it was funny that something you said affected my dream like that. Step behind the screen and put your costume on.”

“No freaking way I’m wearing this.”

“Whitney will have you disqualified.”

“I don’t think I want to be a god anymore.”

“If you change, I’ll tell you a little secret.”

“Fine.”

He goes behind the screen, changes, and then walks out in the skimpy costume.

“Wow.” And wow is an understatement. He looks like a real god. His skin looks tan, his muscles tight. He should be shirtless all the time. I place the golden laurel leaf wreath on his head. “That’s perfect. Good luck today.”

He pulls me close to his mostly naked body and says, “Is Dawson competing?”

“No, he said it was lame.”

“So you’ll be cheering for me?”

“Well, you, Jake, and Riley, for sure.”

He puts his lips to my neck. “Who do you want to win?”

“You.”

He smiles at me. “Good answer.”

“You better get going. You don’t want to be late for your first race.”

“You didn’t tell me the secret.”

“When I first met you, before I knew your name, I had a nickname for you.”

He smirks. “Oh, really? What was it?”

“I’m not telling. That was the secret. I had a nickname for you.”

He does that thing. That thing where his lips graze my neck.

“I want to know.”

“Stop talking on my neck. I can’t think.”

“I like when you can’t think,” he replies, his lips staying put. “Tell me.”

I want to pull away, but I can’t.

“The God of all Hotties.”

I feel a smile form on my neck. He doesn’t move. Instead, those amazing lips kiss my neck hard. He sucks his way up to that spot right underneath my ear. Something about that spot makes me squirm. In a good way. His lips continue to move across my cheek and then to my waiting lips.