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Both Charlotte and Samantha stare at me, their gazes drilling into the front of my skull. Any minute, my brain will start oozing out. But my lips are sealed, an impenetrable fortress. There’s no way I’m telling them what happened, especially not after the bet they just made.
Silence descends over us. The crunching of the cucumber in my salad magnifies in my ears as I focus on chewing and keeping my mouth closed.
“You know, I sometimes see Jace after he leaves practice,” Charlotte says casually. “I wonder, if I asked him why you might blush when talking about your sleeping arrangements, what he’d have to say about it?”
I pause, a tomato halfway to my mouth. “You wouldn’t . . .”
“Oh, I think I would.”
“She totally would.” Samantha smiles and offers her a fist bump.
I glance between them, eyes narrowed to call her bluff. When she doesn’t so much as blink, I cave and practically melt onto the table like a popsicle. “Fiiiiine.” I groan. If I don’t tell her, and she does mention it to Jace, then he’ll think what happened affected me, and that’s worse than any amount of gloating my friendscan do. “We were arguing about where I’d sleep, so I stubbornly made a bed on the couch and he tried to stop me—”
“Like, physically stop you?” Samantha holds a hand up, and I nod.
“Ooh, I like where this is going,” Charlotte says.
I roll my eyes. “Anyway, we were fighting over the blankets and he was trying to take the couch instead, so when he tried to push me off it, I kind of . . .” I pause and swallow, thinking about the scene I made. “Clung to him like a spider monkey. Then he did some kind of WWF move and slammed me on my back and . . . kissed me. Hard.”
Charlotte gasps while Samantha’s brows rise so far up her hairline, they’re invisible.
“He kissed you?” Charlotte asks.
“After he”—Samantha makes air quotes with her fingers as she says—“‘slammed you on your back’?”
“Yes.” My voice is a hiss in my ears as I close my eyes, and the scene replays in my head in wild technicolor.
“Oh, this is just too good. So, how did it end?” Samantha asks.
“We kissed—”
“So you kissed him back?” Charlotte’s hazel eyes brighten.
“I had a moment of weakness, okay?” I say, exasperated. “Don’t judge me.”
“Hey, no judgment here.” She raises her hands.
“Here neither.” Samantha sighs and stares dreamily into space. “If that boy’s tongue were in my mouth—”
“Anyway . . .” I cut her off. “We were kissing, and it turned into our usual sparring, except instead of words, it was our tongues and hands doing the fighting, and neither of us wanted to concede and admit defeat. But when his hand started to dip below my waistband, I snapped out of my lust-induced stupor and waved the white flag of surrender. I retreated immediately. That’s it.”
Samantha flops back in her seat. “Damn, that’s hot.”
I shoot her a glare.
“So, do you think it meant anything?” Charlotte asks, a sparkle in her eye.
“The kiss?” She nods as I mull it over.
There’s no way Jace feels anything for me. Not only does he not do emotions where girls are concerned, but I’m also not his type. I’m too serious. Too snarky. Too sullen and stubborn. Too . . .
I shake my head. “No. No way. I mean, we were arguing, and we’re always goading each other. I don’t think it was anything more than that. I honestly think he thought the second he pressed his mouth to mine that I’d get pissed and leave. When that didn’t happen, it went a little further.”
Samantha hums under her breath like she’s not buying it. “I don’t know. Are you sure all that pent-up loathing isn’t just a cover? Maybe under the surface is this whole layer of sexual tension just waiting to be released.”
I scoff. “You’ve been reading way too many romance novels.”
She shrugs.
