Page 11 of Your Kiss Is On My List

“I don’t know what to think. I’ve bent my mind trying to come up with a way for them to both be right because I can’t stand to think of either of them being bad enough to ….”

“Come here.” I wrap an arm around her and pull her to my chest. “You know life is never black and white. Neither of them are wrong or right. They’re both some of each. The important thing is your dad wants to see you and that’s very cool.”

“It is, isn’t it?” Her face glows with pleasure and she wraps her arms around my neck, her face so close to mine I could lick her and fuck if I don’t want to do just that. “I haven’t told anyone else,” she says. “Not even Louie. So don’t tell her.” She leans in and kisses my cheek. I gulp in a lungful of her sweet essence and feel like I downed a double shot of whiskey. Feeling dizzy and out of sorts, disoriented between playing big brother but feeling all those same feelings all over again no matter how inappropriate they were years ago.

Now? She’s older but so am I. And she’s still counting on me the same way as always, to be her confidant, to have her back, to be her honorary big brother. Fuck.

“You’ll have to tell your mom eventually.”

“I know. But it’s so hard. Because I know it’s going to hurt no matter what she says.”

“I hate the sound of that.”

“Sorry—don’t mind me. I’m whining. How gauche of me.” She laughs, a sad remnant of her true happy laugh.

The waitress comes by again and lingers for a second after she drops the check on the table.

“Good luck at your game on Thursday, Trey. Hope you win. Will you be stopping in afterward with the guys?”

“Maybe I’ll stop by. If we win,” I say. Then I give her my credit card in spite of Dani’s protests, leaning into the big brother act to remind her why I should pay.

We walk back to her house and the last thing I want to do is leave her at her door, but no way am I putting myself in the awkward position of coming up to her room at night. It’s a test I’m not ready for. The shock of seeing her again, being subjected to whatever the fuck spell she has on me and my dick is too strong. Time hasn’t diminished it, so I need to build up some old-fashioned gritty determination to defend against it.

Torn between my protective instincts, my automatic reflex to behave like the gentleman my mom raised me to be, and my need for separation to preserve the delicate balance of our relationship, I don’t even walk her to her door when we get to the Kappa Kappa Gamma house.

“I’ll get you tickets to Thursday night’s game. Come on over tomorrow night after practice, maybe about eight, and I’ll introduce you to Dooley. You can go to the game with him. I got him tickets.” Then I realize Dools is a good person for her to know. He’s a TA in the broadcast department and works with a local production company.

“I’ll see you then.” She throws her arms around my neck and hugs me. I can’t distinguish whether it’s a sisterly hug or more than that—either way, my dick doesn’t know the difference. “Thank you for the SPU hockey hoodie. I’ll wear it every day,” she says, letting me go. Then she turns and jogs up the path because she knows I’m not going any farther. She’s like that. She has good instincts, knows how to read emotional cues faultlessly.

Except that one time. And for that entire year of high school where she was either blind to my true feelings or she chose to ignore them. Now I can only pray she’ll continue to ignore my baser instincts and trust me not to assault her again with an unwanted kiss. But what do I do when she kisses me like she did tonight?

Fat chance that she’ll kiss me again the way she did at Wildbeast Pizza. Whether it was an act or not on her part, no matter that my head knows it wasn’t meant to be a real kiss, my body can’t ignore the signals—and by my body, I mean my dick.

Chapter 6

DANI

By the time I hear the rushed footsteps coming up the stairs and see Emily Winiski for the first time, a day and a half after I moved in, I’ve finished unpacking and decorating my room, tossing the last furry pink pillow on my too-tiny bed. Aiming a smile at her as she appears in the doorway, I reach out a hand to welcome her.

“You must be Emily. I’m Danielle Innocent. Come in. I have cookies.” Her eyes wander around my room in disbelief or close to it until I mention the cookies. Then she snaps her attention to me and grins. I snatch up the plastic container of homemade cookies that Mrs. Eagleton insisted I’d need and hold it out to her.

Emily moves into the room, smoothly grabbing three cookies as she turns around, inspecting my décor like I’m in a design competition and she’s the judge.

“Thanks,” she says. “Your name should be Barbie because you got the dream house vibe down in this room. When does Ken get here? Tell him to bring friends.” I laugh because she’s so refreshingly real and unapologetic.

“A fellow Barbie aficionado. I love it. Though I’m hoping this is a bit more sophisticated with the gray and black added to the color palette.”

“Must have cost you a fortune, but then tuition for SPU is a fortune if you have to pay. I’m on scholarship. Basketball.” She looks me up and down. “You from money?”

“Not in the least. Scholarship because I’m poor. Spent my… summer job money on my room but don’t tell my mother. She’ll accuse me of being irresponsible and maybe she’d be right.” Emily nods, chews on a cookie, and then grins again.

“You bake these? Because if you did, we’re besties for life. They’re good.”

“No, Mrs. Eagleton made them. She’s—”

“Trey Eagleton’s mom?”

“Yes.”