Switched: Flirt New Adult Romance (20 page)

BOOK: Switched: Flirt New Adult Romance
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He sort of hesitates, shaking his hand out before sliding it up my back. I’m panting in his face now and really hoping he doesn’t care I don’t keep my breath as fresh as his. Great. Now I’m
really
thinking about kissing him. I’ve never seen him so nervous, and damn it if that quality doesn’t turn me on.

I shiver against him as he traces my spine up to the back of my neck. Then … damn … his fingers take hold of my hair and my nose slightly touches his.

“That was …” I gulp. I have to find a good adjective here. “Amazing”? Yes. “Hot”? Hell yes. But how embarrassing is that? What word do I go with?

“Good?” he finishes for me.

“Yeah.” Understatement to the zillionth degree.

He smiles, and I catch a refreshing whiff of chocolate mint. “Well, I can’t get to your boob. I had to go with something else.”

I’m totally out of the weird Wesley haze now! What an ass. I smack the back of his head, making him jolt forward, and we knock foreheads. Oh, we are the smoothest people ever.

One of his hands stays on my hip while the other goes up to rub his face. “Guess I deserved that.”

Yes, but thank heavens he lightened the mood. That was freaky scary. I pull back, dropping flat on my feet, and wait for his arms to release me, but they don’t.

“So …” He smirks. “As a Reagan expert, my hands … good?”

Hell yes. “Good.”

“Guess I’ll have to test the rest out on her.” Instead of letting go of me, he brings me back to his face. “Unless you want to help out some more.”

Normal Wesley is back full force, but I think there’s some leftover attraction drug, because I almost take him up on his offer, even though I know he’s totally joking.

I shake my head, forcing a laugh. “I think I inflated your ego enough for one night.”

“You did.” He drops his hands. “Thank you.”

Clearing my throat, I take a few steps back, and like he breathed his nerves into me, I start rubbing the back of my neck. “I’m going to go. Let you get some sleep.”

“I’ll walk you out.”

He helps me into my jacket and doesn’t bother putting his own on. Guess that means we’re making this goodbye short, since it’s not exactly summer. Not that I care about stretching this out.

“Well, good luck this weekend,” he says, rubbing his arm when I flop into my car. I can’t believe I never noticed how Wesley’s muscles are just as nice as Talon’s. They’re different—Talon is bulkier and an obvious football player, while Wesley is leaner, toned. He’s more of a skinny muscular. I like the lines and curves it gives his arms. He should wear sleeveless shirts more often. Or maybe he shouldn’t, since it’s causing me to think very weird things. Yeah, he needs to cover those things up immediately.

“Kayla?”

“Oh!” Yes, definitely needs to keep himself covered. “Yeah, good luck to you too.”

He laughs and leans over the door. I refuse to inhale and get a whiff of those gummy bears.

“Thanks, but I asked if you’d call when you get home so I know you got there okay.”

Where was I when he asked this? Oh, probably analyzing his arm muscles. My eyes flick to them again, and before I can go into the muscle funk, I press my eyelids shut and shake my head. “Um, yeah. I’ll text or something.”

“Thanks.”

“Uh-huh.”

He gives me a weird look as he shuts the door, like I’ve got an expression on my face that he’s never seen before and he’s trying to figure it out. I give him a smile and wave as I put the car in drive. Then I screech out of the lot, determined to put as much distance as possible between me and his muscles and scent.

What the hell just happened?

Progress Report: January 20

I still feel weird. I went to Wesley’s to feel better, or relax, or something, but instead I’m all confused. Have I always found him attractive? Or was that only tonight? It’s like it happened in a flash of a single thought. Like I was in one of those claw games, and someone plucked me up and threw me into a different universe. One where I find Wesley attractive. One where I’ve always thought that. One where I like Talon, but not
like that
. And now I’m wondering where I was for the past eighteen years. If I’m even in my same body because my thoughts are crazy different. How do I get back to the universe I was born in?

It’s seriously killing my buzz about this date with Talon. Because I’m not even thinking about that. I’m thinking about how Wesley is going out with Reagan, and what if they kiss? What if they start dating? And what if they move in together and get married and have kids … and why the hell do I care?

I need something to refocus my mind, to get it back to where it’s supposed to be. On Talon. My soul mate! Any minutes with Talon have been precious minutes of my life. I can take all the mental videos and then replay them as a montage with cheesy music before I fall asleep. Like the opening of some CW show.

That should work, and I can add Friday to that montage soon. Maybe with a kiss!

Yes, focus, focus, focus on Talon.

Talon’s blue eyes.

Talon’s big muscles.

Talon’s nice ass.

Talon’s smile … with no dimple.

Talon’s laugh … that doesn’t make his eyes crinkle in the corners.

Talon’s lack of cowlick.

Shit … I’m going to bed.

Step 22:
Be Aggressive

(And don’t cause any bodily harm.)

“Kayla!” Reagan laughs as she pulls out the condom I shoved in her makeup bag. “This was a gift.”

I shake my head. “It’s a curse, is what it is. I’m not going to let Talon find a condom anywhere on me.”

She giggles, tossing the condom on the desk between our beds. “This is so crazy, right? You and Talon. Me and Wes. Almost like someone mapped it out and made it happen.”

My fingers slip on the mascara brush, and I end up jabbing my left eye. Of course, add makeup disaster on top of all the other crap I’m dealing with right now, and I’m a real winning date. With my one good eye I quickly make sure my journal is still tucked safely away where no one can see it. Because Reagan sure sounds like she’s reading it, or reading my brain. Either way, it causes my chest to burn like I’ve just finished eating a bowl of chili powder.

“Um, yeah … crazy.”

She glances over at me and laughs, tucking her own mascara brush back in its case. “Aw, Kayla. No need to be nervous. It’s just Talon.” I catch the makeup wipes she pushes in my direction.

“That’s exactly why I’m nervous,” I say, scrubbing my eye free of the black smudge. “He’s your ex-boyfriend, Ray. Are you sure you’re okay with this?”

“For the millionth time, yes!” She takes the wipe from my shaking fingers and swipes it over my face. “You have no idea how ready I am to go out with Wes like this. And how awesome is it that things are working out the way they are? We can all hang out together with zero weirdness because me and Talon are moving on at the same time. And he can’t get mad at Wes or me for dating each other because he wants to date you. It’s like we were pieces to a puzzle that were shoved in the wrong places, and now we’re moving to the right ones.”

All the perfect things to say. Everything I wanted. But why is it now when Reagan talks about Wesley like she used to talk about Talon I want to yank all that purple-highlighted hair right out of her skull?

I shake my head, taking a few deep breaths. Reagan stops wiping and pulls me into a one-sided
hug. “You’re going to have a great time. Trust me.”

Yes. I’m going to have a blast.

I will, I will, I will!

I force a smile and hug her back. “You are too.” Because I know exactly what she’s in for tonight … if Wesley has the guts to do it.

I may puke. Not kidding. I feel so sick I’m thinking of just doing it so he’ll take me home. While my stomach is contemplating whether or not to make its contents appear, my brain fights with itself.

I’m on a date with freaking
Talon Gregory
. It’s about time!

I’m on a date with my best friend’s ex. I suck.

She’s okay with it. She’s out with his best friend as we speak.

But why does she have to be out with Wesley right now? Why did he ask her out so quickly after the breakup? Is he really all that in love with her? What are they doing? Has he kissed her yet? Or is he going to? Did he bring his guitar? Are they going to sing love songs together? I wonder if he brought gum or mints or something.

“Kayla? You still with me?”

I jolt in my seat, squishing the burger in my hands so hard the mayonnaise squirts out, landing on my new jeans. Talon smiles, handing over some napkins so I can clean myself up. I’m such a spaz. And really stupid because here I am with the love of my life and I can’t stop thinking about what Wesley and Reagan are doing.

I think I have a disorder or something. An implanted device that makes me feel guilty and jealous instead of happy and blissful. Damn that device! Where is the off switch?

“Kayla?”

Oh my gosh, I’m a total dink! What am I even doing?

“Sorry. Spaced out for a second.”

His hand snakes between my knees as he leans down to grab the fast-food bag on the floor. He carefully chucks all his garbage in there, offering it to me afterward. I throw my hardly eaten burger in along with my mayo-covered napkins. My hands are shaking, which is oh so wonderful, so I jam them under my butt to stop them from shaking, but that only makes my knees bounce up and down instead.

“Are you okay? You seem off tonight.”

He’s beautiful. He’s got the look of loving, caring, perfect guy, and I’m ruining it. And I
thought I was a nervous wreck when we were on the road trip. I’d call myself cool and seductive in comparison with how I’m behaving
now
.

I still haven’t answered him, so I say, “I’m fine.”

He takes one look at my bouncing knees and lets out this laugh-grunt thing that used to make my whole body respond. It used to make my head cloud and my heart pound, but right now it makes me want to throw up.

“It’s too soon, isn’t it?”

“Eh?”

“Damn, I really thought I’d done this the right way.” He pounds his fist on the steering wheel, but not in a mad way. More like he’s joking but not really joking. And I’m too messed up in mind and body to react.

“Uh, what do you mean?” At least I’m capable of speech.

His blue eyes turn to mine and I wait for my uncontrollable sigh, but it doesn’t come. Instead my mind goes to Wesley, and I wonder if he still stares at Reagan like she’s the most fascinating person in the world.

“It’s been almost a month since Ray and I broke up, and I made sure she was a hundred percent over me before I even thought about asking you out. But I never considered how weird it might be for you. I’m sorry.”

Why are they apologizing to me? I’m the evil wench who wiggled my way in to split them apart. And why doesn’t Wesley feel guilty about this? Or does he and it’s his nerves that overpower that guilt? Grr … why is his name popping up in every other thought?

“Okay,” I relent. “It’s weird. But it’s not your fault. It’s mine.”

His thick eyebrows go up, and he inches closer. Is it okay for me to like that?
Do
I like that?

“Kayla …”

Okay, I still like the way my name sounds in his voice. I’m just going through a funk. Once more time passes, I’m sure this whole plan and the immediate after-emotions will be long gone and Talon and I will be together. A real-life couple like I’ve imagined since he said “Awesome” to me at the park.

And Wesley and Reagan will be … together.

I press my top teeth into my tongue so hard I may not be able to talk for a while.

“I don’t want this to be weird with us. Your friendship is important to me. I know I was a friend by default at first, but I hope I’m not that way now.”

“You’re not,” I manage to squeak out, even as the battle between internal guilt and bliss, between jealousy and happiness, continues in my brain.

He bows his head, exposing the back of his neck and the top of his back muscles. He’s
sexy, every single bit of him. And I want him, I do, because I have to still want him, right? Because I’ve wanted him for so long. He’s right here, being vulnerable and honest, talking into his knees and saying things that I’m not really hearing. There’s a translator in my brain that turns his “You’re so fun to be with” into “You destroyed my relationship.”

He lifts his head, eyes meeting mine, and I finally start to hear what he’s saying. “We don’t have to think of this as a date if you don’t want to. Just two friends hanging out. We’ll go to the movies, heckle the acting, and try to get popcorn in each other’s mouths. And whenever you’re ready, if you’re interested, I can take you out for real. Sound good?”

He’s such a great friend. And he’s being so sexy and majorly hot over there in the driver’s seat. I should react to this. I should do what I would’ve done if he’d never been with Reagan. He’s the guy I want. I should pounce on him like I did with Wesley. Erase all the guilt and jealousy and replace it with my fantasy.

So I do.

No joke. I lose whatever is left of my mind and throw myself on his lap. His face is hilarious, like he’s thinking,
Holy crap! My ex-girlfriend’s best friend popped herself on top of me. What do I do?
And I’d laugh if I wasn’t so torn.

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