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She lightly slaps my bicep. “Uh. . . doesn’t look like nothing. Spill.”
Ugh, why did I even have that reaction?“Really, it’s a long story, and I wouldn’t know where to begin.”
Jenny gets up and disappears into my kitchen, reappearing with the wine opener and a second bottle. “You can start by opening this other bottle.”
Even if I were ready to spill, she’d probably wish she never knocked on my door. “Actually, why don’t I tell you about all the hotspots for juicy, single men?”
Subject change for the win.
Chapter6
Ben
“Dude,I’m telling you. If Christine Harrison wasn’t so hot, I’d drop her like a bad habit. I mean, the brains are missing on that one,” Chase says, throwing me the football.
I snag it and toss it to Levi. “It’s because she sniffs her scented pens all day. I bet she’s too high on cherry fumes to conjure up a complete sentence.”
Chase laughs and intercepts the ball Levi was trying to throw to Kip. “Oh, well. Let’s talk about more important things. You think the carpet matches the drapes?”
I trip over my feet.
“Anyone wanna take a bet? I can have that answer within the first five minutes of our date—”
“Who’s going on a date?” I turn at the sound of Hannah’s voice as she and her little pet duckling walk up.
“Wouldn’t you like to know? Don’t you two have Girl Scouts or something?” Chase says.
“Maybe you can earn your ‘good deed’ badge by giving the duckling a makeover. Like a garbage bag over her head to match her trash clothes.” I chuckle.
“Ben, stop. Seriously,” Hannah pleads. “Mak, I’m sorry. They’re just jerks. Let’s go inside—”
“It’s okay.” The girl—Makayla, who looks way older than Hannah, stops just short of touching my sneakers. “That bag sounds great—anything to hide your ugly face from me.”
I burst out a laugh. “Ugly? You mean irresistible? Duckling, this face is wanted by sixty percent of my grade. The other forty percent are dudes, and. . . well, old-ass teachers don’t count. Nice try on that lame comeback.”
“As irresistible as your dirty jock strap,” she bites back.
I throw my head back and bellow out another laugh. “Please. You don’t have to pretend you don’t think I’m hot. Jealous of all the chicks running after me while no one is after you? Shit, you’re so jealous, your eyes are green with envy.” I dip my head low, taunting her further. “Admit it. You think I’m hot.”
Instead of the frown I was expecting, her lips curl into a perky smile. She lifts up on her toes, then whispers, “I’ll admit one thing. I enjoyed listening to the group of girls trash-talking a Ben Wallace at the park the other day. That’s your last name, right? Wow, they had some super fun facts to share. But I only heard things like ‘scrawny,’ ‘bad breath,’ ‘worse kisser.’ Oh, what did the blonde say? A football reject. That one probably stings.” She drops down onto the soles of her feet. “That bag is sounding more and more like a great idea. Anything would be an improvement over what I’m seeing now.”
Fury rolls off me. I’m struck mute while she steps around me and grabs Hannah’s hand. Before she disappears inside, I find my voice. “You’re fucking lying.”
She turns around, putting up two fingers. “Scouts honor.”
* * *
She’s not getting away with this.
I toss my backpack into a corner of my apartment, grab a beer from the fridge, and settle on my couch. I’m going to Google her. Get all the information I can and use it against her. Until she. . .what, pal?Apologizes? She owes me at least that much. Chaining me up because of some silly shit I did when we were kids? She was no better! That spineless brat. And she took off anyway. Probably grew up with a silver spoon in her mouth and has the perfect life now. She has a different last name, which means she’s married. Why does she care about an old rival? How would herhusbandfeel knowing she took me to my room and seduced me? That kiss? It wasn’t for show. She melted like butter in my arms. I could feel her body vibrate as I took her sweet mouth, her sugary tongue tasting like heaven.
I pop the top off my beer, take a swig, then pull out my phone. You’re going to regret this,Ms. Fischer.I start my search with the obvious.Makayla Fischer. Zero results. Maybe she still goes by her maiden name.Makayla Jacobs.Zero results. I attempt another platform. Same results. Another and another. Nothing. “Where the hell are you?”
There’s a loud knock on my door. Before I have a chance to react, another round of banging resonates.
“Honey, let me in. I’m sorry I left, but the rash caught me off guard. We can get it fixed—”
I jump off my couch and dart to the door, throwing it open. “Dude, what the hell?”
