Wicked Grind (Stark World #1)

Kelsey tapped the eraser of her pencil on the pad of paper by the kitchen phone. She’d scribbled the address down because Wyatt had told her to, but she knew she couldn’t go to the party. How could she when her parents had told her she had to watch Griffin?

Which was ridiculous, really, because she’d been watching him since she was eleven and he was nine. Now he was twelve—practically thirteen!—and old enough to watch himself. But she still had to watch him?

It was unfair.

But then again, she was starting to realize how many things about her life were unfair.

“We’re going to watch a movie later, right?” Griff shouted as he bounded down the stairs.

“I guess.”

He skidded to a stop in front of her. The house had hardwood floors and his favorite thing when their parents were out was to skate on the floor in his socks. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” She forced a smile. Then she ripped off the paper with the address and tucked it in the pocket of her jeans. “I was just trying to remember if we have any popcorn in the house.”

He rolled his eyes. “Seriously?”

“Oh, come on, Griff.”

His eyes went wide. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing. I’m just—nothing.” She forced a smile. “If we’re not having popcorn with the movie, then what are we having?”

“Well, not with the movie, but the last time Mom and Dad went out, we talked about doing marshmallows over the fire pit and making s’mores.”

“Yeah, but not tonight.” All she wanted was to watch one of his stupid action movies so that she could either stare mindlessly at the screen or fall asleep. Either way it would take her mind off the fact that she was trapped in this house, away from Wyatt, and that she was never in her whole life going to get to do anything she really wanted to do.

“What’s wrong with tonight?” Griffin demanded.

“Oh, come on,” she snapped. “I said no. Give it a rest. Now, do you want popcorn or not?”

“Jeez. What bug crawled up your butt?”

She aimed her most fierce scowl at him, and he held up his hands in surrender.

“Sorry! But I mean, honestly, Kels. You never want to do anything fun.”

And that, she thought, was the absolute last straw. She always wanted to do something fun. She was just never allowed to.

“You know what? You watch whatever you want, okay? I’m gonna go out for a little bit.”

“You’re leaving me alone?”

“For crying out loud, Griffin. You don’t need a babysitter. You’re just a few months away from thirteen. But Mom and Dad think you’re a baby, and they don’t want me to go out.”

“I’m not a baby.”

“That’s what I’m saying. And I’m going out. You won’t tell?”

“What about the movie? And the s’mores?”

“You can watch a movie without me. And we’ll do the marshmallow and fire pit thing some other time. We don’t have any chocolate or graham crackers anyway, so s’mores weren’t really on the agenda.”

“When?”

“When what?”

“When is some other time?”

“Some. Other. Time.”

He stared her down. “I’m going to tell Mom and Dad.”

“You are not.”

He deflated, all his bluster sliding out of him. “I’m not. You know I’d never tattle. But I really wanted to do the marshmallow thing.”

“How about I buy some chocolate and graham crackers tomorrow? We’ll keep them in the pantry for the next time Mom and Dad go out.”

“Who knows when that will be,” he said grumpily.

“Come on, Griff. Please?”

“Okay. Fine. Where are you going, anyway?”

“There’s a party. And I got invited.”

“Oooh.” He made kissing noises. “What’s his name?”

“Wyatt, and shut up.”

“Wyatt kissy-face. Smooch, smooch.”

Her cheeks positively burned. “You are such a turd.”

He smiled, showing off his newly straightened teeth, just two weeks out of braces. “Sorry. Couldn’t resist. Go on. I’ll be good.”

She hesitated, because now that everything seemed to be working out and she was really facing the prospect of going out, she was having second thoughts.

“What?” her brother demanded, going to the fridge, opening it, and then staring inside while all the cold air escaped.

She walked over and shut the door. “Maybe I shouldn’t go.”

“Oh, please. I’m not a baby. You said so yourself. And you’ll be home before Mom and Dad, right?”

“Well, duh. Otherwise they’ll know I went out.”

“Then what’s the big deal?”

“You’re right.” That wasn’t something she said often. She loved her brother, but he could be a real pain in the butt. “Okay, but here.” She scribbled another number on the pad, ripped the page off, and handed it to him.

“Should I memorize it and then eat it?”

She rolled her eyes. “I don’t know the number at the party. So that’s Wyatt’s cell phone.” She wished she had a cell, but her parents thought they were too expensive to get for the kids.

“Is he picking you up?”

“I’m walking. It’s only a few blocks away.” Just a few more months and she could get her driver’s license, but tonight she was hoofing it.

She hurried upstairs to change into a sundress and sandals, then rushed back downstairs, told Griff goodbye, and headed out the door. She realized after a block that she’d forgotten to pull the address out of her jeans, but it didn’t matter. She knew where Patrick lived. She’d gone with her dad once when he’d met with Patrick’s dad to talk about doing some residential landscaping work.

As she walked, she let her mind wander. Or, more accurately, she let fantasies fill her head. That Wyatt would kiss her again. That they’d find a quiet corner where she could curl up next to him and get lost in those wonderful kisses—and maybe even more.

Except she didn’t really want more.

Or maybe she did. He’d kissed her in the back of the car when they’d returned from the concert, and she’d definitely wanted more then. And, honestly, kissing didn’t really describe it. It was more like making out.

Actually, it was making out. She bit the tip of her thumb as she remembered, glad that she still had a few more blocks to walk so that hopefully she’d stop blushing by the time she got to the party.

She’d been embarrassed at first, but then Wyatt had pressed a button, and an opaque glass barrier suddenly appeared, blocking their view of the driver. And, she assumed, vice-versa.

She’d almost asked Wyatt about that, just to be sure, but then he was kissing her and she realized she didn’t care anymore, especially when he’d pulled her onto his lap and his arms had gone around her. That was when she’d stopped caring about anything except the way his body felt against hers and the wonderful things his hands were doing, and the way his mouth felt against hers.

Her blood had pounded through her that night. In her ears. In her chest. Between her legs.

She’d felt lost. Needy. And at the same time, she hadn’t felt lost at all, because Wyatt was there. And the only thing she’d needed was him.

Now, all she knew was that she wanted more.

She quickened her step, anxious to get to the party—and to him.