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Dean sucked in deep lungfuls of air. “Is that your hoity-toity way of saying we’re sweaty, disgusting pigs?”
Jillian scrunched up her chin and jutted out her lower lip slightly. “It’s called being polite, Sparky. You could try it once in a while.”
Pushing past her with an exaggerated bump of his hip into hers, he opened the front door and headed toward the stairs. “I’ll go…freshen up so I don’t offend you. Go ahead and cue up all the drama while you wait. Feel free to make me a sandwich while you’re at it.”
He added the last bit as he jogged up the steps and was fairly certain that, as long as his mother was still in the kitchen, Jillian was flipping him off behind his back. And just the mental image brought an immediate grin to his face.
***
Jillian
Twelve Years Earlier
“You forgot the popcorn, loser.”
Dean sighed and dropped down onto the couch beside her, passing a bottle of root beer. “We literally just had dinner twenty minutes ago. You can’t possibly be hungry.”
She turned to him, dipped her chin, and gave a hard stare. “Do you even know me?”
Grumbling just loud enough she could hear, but too low to make out the words, he stood and stomped off into the kitchen as she queued up the first of the three episodes remaining for their binge session. She snuggled deeper into the soft cushion, wishing her mother could value comfort over appearance with their furniture. None of it was even remotely plush enough to handle the hours she and Dean would sit watching their reality TV guilty pleasure.
Well, actually her guilty pleasure. Luckily, Dean was amused by the head-over-heels after one meeting insta-love the show was notorious for displaying. And he really enjoyed making fun of the guys she’d swoon over as they shyly offered a rose to the lucky winner.
Within a few minutes Dean returned with a heaping bowl of popcorn and a much smaller one of chocolate candy because he knew she loved to munch on the sweet and salty combination.
“You know you could’ve started without me.” He plopped down beside her and grinned. “It takes a few minutes for one of the girls to start crying or the dude to be a royal asshole.”
Jillian smacked the back of her hand against his chest. “Your mother might hear you.” She popped a few kernels in her mouth along with some of the chocolate, the blending of the two almost pure bliss. “Besides you need to be quiet so I can pay attention to who gets the one-on-one date. Ugh. I really hope it isn’t Rebecca. She is such an annoying know-it-all.”
“Nah, she and Dad went out grocery shopping. Me and my potty mouth are safe.” Dean rolled his eyes but stayed silent through the first two episodes.
Mostly.
“He’s a bad kisser.”
The comment laced with a note of grumpiness brought her attention from the screen to the boy sitting beside her. “Oh like you’re some expert?” Laughter bubbled up inside her. “You’ve been on, what, a grand total of five whole dates but you’re gonna compete with a thirty-year-old man?”
Dean chuckled and took a long draw from the glass bottle of soda. “Jillybean, dates aren’t the only times you can kiss a girl.”
Fire burned beneath her breastbone and crawled north up her neck, igniting her cheeks. She kept her eyes firmly focused on the screen even though she couldn’t recite what happened even if she were offered fifty million dollars. “So you think you know how to kiss better?”
He lifted one shoulder and set his drink on the stand beside the sofa. “I know a few things. Like he doesn’t tilt his head enough. And he should touch her. Her hand or her arm or her waist.” He gave her a smirk and winked. “That’s something Wyatt taught me.”
She lifted her leg onto the couch and angled it beneath her as she turned to face him. “So teach me.”
Almost as soon as the words left her lips, she wanted to suck them back in. This was a bad idea. A friendship ending level bad idea.
Or maybe not. It was just Dean, after all. Surely a small kiss couldn’t have the power to change their weird little bond that had been solid for seven years.
Dean’s sapphire eyes widened. “Y-you mean you want to kiss me?”
An immediate “yes” danced on the tip of her tongue and nearly made it free. “No, of course not, but if you’re so experienced and you can spot all the things he’s doing wrong, maybe you could teach me how to do it right before my next date.”
A dark cloud passed over his face and he quirked a single brow. “And exactly when is that and with who?”
Jillian heaved a sigh. “It’s hypothetical, Sparky. I just want to be prepared.” She frowned and lifted one shoulder. “Hey, if you aren’t as great as you say, you can feel free to back out now.”
Dean scooted forward until his knee bumped hers. “Is that a challenge, Jillybean?”
