Switched: Flirt New Adult Romance (15 page)

“I know, Dad. Seriously, nothing happened. It was
Wesley
.”

“A boy.”

“Who’s like a brother.”

“That’s what they all say.”

“Who’s they?”

“All the girls who don’t want to admit they have a crush on someone. Especially to their father.”

“Dad, you did not just say ‘crush.’ ”

“What do you want me to call it? Infatuation? The hots? The man of your—”

“Stop.” Because I will puke all over him if he keeps going. “And please start watching more ESPN.”

“I’m just looking out for you.”

“I know.” I pat his arm. “But you have to trust me, okay?”

“That’s what they all say.”

“The crushed-out daughters?”

He laughs and tugs me in for a hug. “I trust you. But … no more boy/girl sleepovers while you’re here. And if you’re having them elsewhere, I don’t want to hear about it.”

He won’t have to worry about that. Onetime occurrence. With Wesley anyway.

“Okay.”

His arms drop and he goes back to his laptop. “What are your plans today?”

Total Talon recon. If I can avoid Reagan long enough to get to him. That’s Wesley’s job today. Keep her away from Talon and me. And hopefully he’s still okay with it, especially with his weirdo mood swing this morning.

First I have got to get in the shower. I have Wesley’s gummy bear scent all over my hair. Not that it’s a bad thing, but I can’t be smelling like him when I’m going to see Talon.

“Um, not much. Hanging out with Reagan and the guys.”

Dad nods and starts typing something. He’s officially not paying attention to me. Once that screen goes up, his mind gets sucked in.

I shake my head and slide down the hall in my socks to my room. While I’m undressing and wrapping the towel around my body, I rehearse what I’m going to say to Talon today. I mean, I wonder if he knows that
I
know about his epic night. I mean, they weren’t exactly paying attention to me and Wesley. But what if he did and he brings it up to apologize or something? No, I can’t talk about that with him. I’m sure he’ll tell Wesley like Reagan will tell me, so that should really be enough.

Oh wow. I didn’t even think about that. How sad for Wesley! I’m sure guys are more crass with this stuff. Though Reagan can get pretty graphic.

I pull at my blond curls as if that will take away all the sex thoughts, and I say out loud, “Favorite present, Talon? It was mine, wasn’t it?”

No, that’s stupid. But I suppose it could be worse. Like a twenty-minute pizza conversation.

What I really want to say to him goes more along the lines of, “Talon, I’m in love with you, and I have been for a long time. I know you’re with Reagan, but I had to tell you how I feel.” But that sounds like every single chick flick out there. And I know that in the movies the girl always end up with the guy, but I’m not freaking Sandra Bullock. I’m more like her little sister who missed the puberty train.

Checking over my shoulder to make sure I locked my door, I carefully pull open my towel and examine myself. Which is the worst idea ever. I’m supposed to be building my confidence, not overanalyzing all my flaws. I quickly wrap myself up again. I’m being stupid. Talon won’t reject me because of my body. It’s one of the reasons I like him so much. He’s not a shallow, perverted pond. He’s the deep, sensitive ocean.

And it’s his commitment to Reagan that will send me to rejection city if I tell him too soon. If I get to tell him at all.

I take a deep breath.
Stick with the plan, Kayla. Nothing has changed
.

Nothing has changed.

Nothing.

I wipe the single tear from my face and walk straight-backed to the bathroom. Dropping the towel on the toilet lid, I start the water and let it wash away all my doubts.

(Even if they’re doing it all over town, they better have a minute to send a smiley face or something.)

Talon should’ve been here hours ago. I’m all packed and ready to head back to school, but he hasn’t texted or called or anything. I’m getting squat from Reagan too. Maybe I should head over to Talon’s and honk the horn. I mean, Wesley and I drove. How else are they going to get back to school?

I’m pacing the kitchen, constantly checking my phone, when my doorbell rings. But it’s not Talon, it’s Wesley on my porch.

“What are you doing here?”

“Hey to you too.” He shrugs past me, showering snowflakes from his head onto mine. “I can’t find Talon or Reagan. Thought maybe you’d heard from them.”

I shake my head. “Not a word. You think they’re still at Talon’s?”

As much as I hate to think it, maybe they’re going for an all-day sort of thing. I mean, the huge-ass box of condoms sure suggests high expectations.

“No. I went over there already. Talon’s mom said they left early this morning in her car and she hasn’t heard from them since.”

My hand is on my coat in a second. I’ve never had sex, so I have no idea if it makes people forgetful, but we were supposed to have been on the road hours ago, and it’s not like either of them to not tell their best friends they’re going to be late. A trickle of panic goes through my chest as I wonder if maybe something worse has happened.

I shout as loud as I can up the stairs to my parents, “I’m headed out for a bit! I have my cell!” Then I turn to Wesley and nod him out the door.

I’m shaking so badly I can’t get my coat on right. This
really
isn’t like them. I actually expected a call from Reagan during the after-sex cuddle time. And if they’re off to have sex wherever they can, again … I would’ve at least gotten a text or call or
something
.

We get to the van and Wesley helps me first into my coat, then into the passenger seat. I want to yell at him for wasting time opening my door for me, but I really shouldn’t lecture him for being a gentleman.

“We should probably check Java Joe’s first. If they’re not there, then we can check the high school football field.”

All our old hangouts. “You read my mind.”

Wesley drives faster than he should with the roads being full of snow, but it still doesn’t seem fast enough for either of us. Gosh, I hope they’re okay. They could be doing it somewhere in a dirty bathroom for all I care right now—I just want them to be all right.

My legs start bouncing up and down and my eyes are frantically searching the road for something. I don’t know what, but I feel useless sitting here wishing we could drive faster, and really wishing one of them would answer my texts and phone calls.

Wesley plants his hand on my knee and gives it a squeeze, automatically making me stop bouncing and shaking. I take a deep breath and smile at him before sending another text to Reagan.

Girl, we’re worried. Where r u?

Even though Talon’s mom’s car isn’t in the parking lot, Wesley and I go inside Joe’s to double-check. Wesley even asks the staff if they saw them. But nothing.

The high school is deserted too. Not even footprints in the snow. I check my phone again, and when I see a blank screen I almost chuck it against the dash. Where the hell did they go?

We drive for what seems like forever and a day, and by now it’s well after dark. Wesley hasn’t said much, which is weird for him, so he must be as worried as I am. We occasionally exchange comforting glances or hand squeezes, but not much else, at least not till Wesley pulls the van against the curb in front of my house. I don’t want to stop looking, though, till we find them.

“I’m sure they’re fine.” His eyes say something totally different from what he’s actually saying, and I start chewing my tongue. “Really, Kayla. I bet it’s something stupid. I’ll keep looking, but it’s almost one. And I really don’t want another look from your dad like I got this morning.”

“I’m worried.”

“Me too.”

I hold my breath for a second. “You really think they’re okay?”

His mouth twitches at the corner. “Yes.”

It’s not good enough. They’re my best friends. “I want to keep looking with you. Please?”

“You’re not tired?”

“Exhausted. But I won’t be able to sleep.”

He nods and runs a hand over the steering wheel. I feel like hugging him, not because I need a hug—which I do—but because he looks like he could use one. I slide over and wrap my arms around his neck, gripping him tight, as if this will make everything better, even though it doesn’t really do anything.

He snuggles into the crook of my neck, sending these weird chills down my spine. I hope he turns the heater back on. His voice is all shaky when he says, “Call your parents, and we’ll go.”

I pull back to get my cell, but his arms keep me close to his face. He’s got five o’clock shadow on his chin, right over that dimple. I want to ask him when the last time he shaved was, which is stupid. Why does that matter right now?

Mom answers and asks if I’m okay. I say, “Yup,” and fill her in on what’s going on. I hang up and slide back to my side of the van.

“She said to call her when we find them.”

Wesley starts the engine back up. “You want to try Reagan again? Or Talon?”

I want to say,
What’s the point?
I don’t, since that won’t help the mood at all, and I clack another message, to Talon this time.

Seriously. Call. Text. Do SOMETHING! I’m worried. Wesley’s worried. We want to know you’re okay, then you can ignore us the rest of the night. But we won’t stop bugging you till you answer
.

Wesley drives to the nearest gas station, and I raise an eyebrow.

“You need Red Bull, right?” He smiles, the first real smile I’ve seen all day. The one that makes his chin dimple twitch. I punch his shoulder and follow him out of the van and into the shop. At least Wesley is here, to give me one worry-free moment.

He grabs me two Red Bulls and himself a couple of waters. When we get to the counter, I realize my wallet is snuggled in my purse, which is at home.

“Crap, Wesley. I don’t have my wallet.” I hate that excuse. It makes me feel like a mooch. “Can I pay you back?”

“What kind of guy would I be if I let you pay?”

“It’s not like this is a date.”

“I know.” He shrugs and slides cash onto the counter. “But it helps fill up my man card.”

“Oh, so now you’re up to one manly thing?” I joke as I crack open a can. He throws a look my way and takes his change. Before sticking it in his coat pocket, he examines the coins, separating all the silver ones from the pennies.

“Okay, one for you,” he says, pushing a penny into my palm, “and one for me.”

I eye the coin before wrapping my fingers around it. “Oh thank you, Wesley! Now I don’t
have to worry about money ever again!”

“You dork. It’s for luck. You know, lucky penny? It’ll help us find our two loser friends who won’t call us back.”

And he calls
me
the dork.

Two Red Bulls and four hours later, still nothing. As panicked and energy-laced as I am, I can’t help my eyes drifting closed around two o’clock. But really, no one can blame me. I was up way late last night too.

Wesley yawns next to me, then shakes his head, throwing his hair around. He does this weird thing with his lips like he’s mimicking a horse, then pulls to the side of the road. “All right, I have to sleep. I don’t remember the last twenty minutes.”

I wish I could argue, but I can’t. “Can you take me home? Or are we going to sleep in the back?”

He shrugs and yawns again, and right there is my answer. I unbuckle and crawl into the third-row seats in the van, grabbing one of the blankets he has back here. I chuck it to him before grabbing another one for myself.

“Wait a second.” Wesley tugs on my coat, pulling me away from the seat I was about to doze on. He yanks on a few levers, grunts a couple thousand times, and gets the backseat folded in. Yawning, he takes the blanket from my arms and spreads it out on the van floor. He looks hilarious maneuvering his long frame around, trying not to smack his head or feet or anything else. Also his coat is so bulky it takes him a good two minutes to get that blanket straight.

My job is to hold one of the corners and to not laugh. I succeed at one.

He rolls onto his back, letting out an exhausted-sounding sigh, like he ran a million miles, and a cloud rises from his lips. We are totally going to turn into ice pops in here.

“You sure you don’t want me to drive us home?” I offer, shoving my hands in my pockets. “It’s going to be cold.”

He shakes his head, his eyes closing. “I can barely move. And I know you’re coming down from your Red Bull high. I’d rather be cold for a couple of hours than dent the hood.”

“Or your skull.”

“Or yours.”

I let out a breath and shiver.

“I won’t bite, Kayla. And there won’t be any awkward drool this time.”

My tongue twirls between my teeth. It will be warmer next to him. “Do you have anything for a pillow?”

He throws his arm out, still using his other hand as his own pillow. I guess his arm is better than his lap, since nothing will be poking me in the nose when I wake up.

“You better not grope anything in your sleep,” I tell him.

He nods. Yeah, he must be really tired if he’s not going to respond to that one.

I throw off my shoes and put my feet against his legs the second I get next to him. He shivers but lets me keep them there. Another night with Wesley. It’s crazy, but we’re pretty far from our houses and I really don’t want a semi running into us because Wesley couldn’t stay in his lane.

The arm I’m using as a pillow curls under my head, pulling me right up against his body. Both our puffy coats serve as a good buffer, because we are seriously spooning. I want to crawl away, smack him, but my body doesn’t. He’s just so warm, it’s making me even sleepier.

“You know,” he mumbles into my curls, “we’d be warmer if we were naked under this blanket.”

I kick him hard in the shin. “I thought you were asleep.”

“I am. I’m sleep-talking, so I’m not responsible for anything I say.”

“Is that how this works?”

“Mmm-hmm.”

“Okay. Let’s get naked and make this really interesting.”