Eye Candy

I don’t know what that means, but I’m making sure I do it.

A soft laugh tickles my ear. “Sure. Hold on one second, okay?”

“Okay.”

I keep picking at the edge of my shoe.

“Baby, did you give Nolan our number?” Ryan’s mommy whispers, but I can hear her real good. Then somebody’s breathing again, but faster this time, just like I’m doing.

“Hi, Nolan.”

I sit up straight and forget all about my shoe.

“Hi!” My stomach does this weird flip-flop, like when we ride the roller coasters at Six Flags. “Um, I got your number off the picture you sent me. That’s like, the coolest thing I’ve ever gotten in the mail so far. Even better than when I get money from my Nana for my birthday.”

She giggles in my ear. “Did you like the picture? I got yours today too. I put it on my wall above my bed.”

Holy crap. I’m in her room.

“I loved it. It’s just like the dragon tattoo I’m gonna get one day.” My head wrinkles. “Did I tell you about that?”

I can’t remember. I think I did.

I think I told her a bunch of times.

“Yep,” she says.

“Good. Just making sure.” I stand from the bed and walk around my room. “So, I needed to ask you something, Ryan. It’s a really big deal for me.”

“What is it?”

“I know we’re just kids, and my dad says I don’t need to worry about this yet, but I can’t help it. I wanna marry you. And I gotta make sure you wanna marry me. If I don’t know for sure, I’m gonna lose it.”

I stop walking so I can listen really good, holding my breath as I look at a spot on the carpet.

I don’t move a muscle.

“Okay,” she says.

I lift my head. “Really? You’ll do it? You want to?”

“Yep.”

“That’s great!” I run over to my bed and climb on. “That’s great. Wow. Okay. I think I’ll be able to sleep now.”

She laughs again.

I really really like the way she does that.

“I gotta go. My daddy needs the phone,” she says.

“That’s cool. I can call you anytime I want now. That was such a good idea to send me your number, Ryan. Probably the best idea anyone has ever had.”

“And I have your number now too. I can see it on the phone.”

“So you can call me . . .”

“Yep.”

“Will you?”

“Yep.”

I smile. “That’s great. I hope you do. Okay, so my dad always tells my mom he loves her before they hang up the phone. It’s just . . . I don’t know. It’s just something people say.”

I bend my knee up, getting ready to pick at my shoe when she doesn’t say anything, but I don’t start picking at it, because she speaks just when I’m about to do it.

“My mommy does that too. She says it all the time. She won’t get off the phone until she says it.”

“Sometimes my mom says it first.”

“My dad says it first a lot.”

I chew on my lip. “Mm. Okay.”

“Okay.” She giggles again.

I smile really big. “I love you.”

“I love you.”

“Dylan.”

That is definitely her dad talking to her mom. I know his voice by now.

“Bye, Nolan.”

“Okay, see ya!”

I hang up the phone and spring from my bed, running out of my room with my arms raised in the air.

“She said yes!”





Don’t miss these other titles from NEW YORK TIMES bestselling author J. DANIELS


Alabama Summer Where I Belong

All I Want

When I Fall

Where We Belong

What I Need

Dirty Deeds

Four Letter Word

Hit the Spot

Sweet Addiction Sweet Addiction

Sweet Possession

Sweet Obsession

Visit her at www.authorjdaniels.com





About the Author


J. Daniels is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of the Sweet Addiction series, the Alabama Summer series, and the Dirty Deeds series. J. grew up in Baltimore and resides in Maryland with her family.

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GETTING DOWN


Helena Hunting





Chapter 1: Party Time


Ruby

I try to sneak a peek at my reflection in the mirror during the brief pauses between strokes of eyeliner, but I’m sitting on the vanity so it’s impossible to get a good look. “How much longer before I can see?”

Amalie Whitfield, my best friend for over a decade—we survived high school and then college in New York together—huffs an annoyed sigh and gives me the stink-eye. It’s a hilarious expression on her makeup-caked face. She throws down the lip brush and pulls a tissue from the box. It’s the third time she’s had to do this. “Can you please stay still? I’m almost finished and I don’t want to have to start over.”

I grip the edge of the counter and press my lips together. “Staying still.”

She dabs at the spot I messed up, and tilts her head to the side. “Pout for me.”

I make pouty lips at her and follow it up with a wet kissy sound. Amie—which is what I like to call her since Amalie sounds a bit stuffy—rolls her eyes and goes back to painting my lips, while mirroring my expression. For the past ninety minutes she’s been working on our makeup—like she used to do in college when we went out clubbing. She’s amazing with makeup. It’s a gift.

“We should’ve videoed this for your YouTube channel,” I say through mostly still pursed lips. Back in college Amie started posting short tutorials as part of a research project for one of her marketing classes. What began as a way to bump up her grade turned into a hobby she actually managed to make money from. She even managed to raise something like seventy thousand for one series she did for cancer patients. My best friend is pretty incredible.

“I haven’t done that in a long time. I doubt anyone watches those videos anymore. But maybe when I’m not quite so rusty I could do it again. It would be fun to put something up, just to see if anyone would still watch it.”

Last time I checked, Amie had close to a million views on the video she uploaded six months ago. Right before she started dating her fiancé, Armstrong. She’s a bit of a YouTube sensation, even if she pretends she isn’t. Sometimes I miss this version of my best friend, the carefree fun one who puts on costumes in the middle of the day and does my makeup. She’s so serious most of the time now.