Switched: Flirt New Adult Romance (6 page)

I hold back the stupid sigh I want to let out because he said my name, and search my head for an interesting topic. And I find nothing up there. Well, nothing I want to say out loud. I can’t exactly start off with,
Oh, Talon, you have the most beautiful face in the entire world!
That would be totally weird, even if it is true.

“Uh, Kayla? You didn’t fall asleep, did you?” He laughs and I’m so glad I’m sitting down because my legs turn to rubber bands, and I’m certain I won’t be able to stand or walk or do anything with them.

I force a giggle, which sounds awful and nasal. Why does he have to make me so nervous when we’re alone? “No, I’m still here.”

“Then shoot. How’s the throwing arm?”

Thank you, sexy man, for providing a topic, even though I still know practically squat about football despite all the games I’ve been to. Wesley and Reagan would sit next to me trying to explain what a down, set, hulk—or however you say that—is. And like every other normal person who’s crushing on the quarterback, I pay absolutely no attention to anything but the way his ass looks in that uniform.

“It’s okay. I still suck major at getting it to do that spiral thingy.”

He takes his right hand off the steering wheel and sets it on my knee for two small pats.
My rubber-band leg dissolves under his fingers, and I may black out. The car seems to be spinning. “You’ll get it. Just takes practice.” He smiles with his kissable lips, then pulls his hand back.

I sigh.

Then I cough, because for hell’s sake, he’s only
smiling
at me.

We’re quiet, and I’m still sitting here trying to come up with something to say. And the longer the silence stretches out the more self-conscious I get. Seriously, I must have some sort of disease. I’m not normally so tongue-tied. Well, I always considered myself pretty comfy around him. We’re soul mates, after all. But there’s all this pressure now to make him see me differently while at the same time being completely smooth about it. Reagan would chop me to pieces if Talon said anything to her about me coming on to him. Not that I really know how to do that anyway.

“Kayla!” Talon says, throwing his head back against the headrest and making me jump so bad I smack my head on the window. “I’m going to crash if you don’t talk. It’s way too quiet and I’m dozing off.”

My tongue takes over before I can think. “You and Reagan have been together for a while now, huh?” Oh, freaking smack in the forehead. I didn’t want to talk about
that
for my alone time with him, but I guess it was sitting there in my store of embarrassing topics of conversation, and it flew out because I can’t stop thinking about it.

He shrugs. “I guess.”

Whoa, whoa … that wasn’t the tone or answer I expected. Hmm … I widen my eyes at him, and he shakes his head.

“I mean, yeah. It’s almost been a year. That’s a while for our age, I guess.”

“Longer than any relationship I’ve ever had.” I force a laugh, trying to lighten the sudden stretched tension in the air.

“And how long was that?” He nudges me with his elbow, and there go my dissolving body parts again.

“Uh …” I cough and blink a few times before staring out the window so I can concentrate. “Like, two days.”

He barks out a laugh, but it’s not nearly as loud as when Wesley cracks up. And I can’t believe I’m even comparing the two right now because it’s not doing me any good. “Please tell me you’re not talking about Ed Westfield.”

That’s exactly who I was talking about. And even in the darkness, Talon must see the redness blossom all over my face and neck because he chuckles and nudges me again.

“That tool did not deserve you.”

Instead of sighing, I can’t find any air to put into my lungs. It’s a total line, but it’s
coming from freaking Talon Gregory! He’s feeding a line to
me
. Soul mates—I knew it!

“Really?” I say, trying to keep the flirtation out of my voice, but I’m pretty sure I’m totally unsuccessful. “I mean, I gave him the best two days of his life!”

We chuckle, and he shakes his head again. “If I’d been around, I would’ve pounded his face in for you.”

“Oh, it wasn’t like he broke my heart or anything,” I say, waving him off, because really, I only dated Ed because Reagan had just had her first kiss and was making such a big deal out of it, I wanted to have mine too. And since Talon was still that guy I thought would never ever happen, Ed seemed like an okay candidate at the time. He was nice to me, and kind of flirted. So when he leaned in that one time to kiss me, I thought,
What the heck?
and let him. For two days he held my hand and pecked my lips, then he dropped me the second his ex-girlfriend came flying back to him saying she was super sorry or some crazy crap like that. So my first breakup was a total cliché. Add me to the list of those who’ve been used to make the ex jealous.

Since Reagan and I started hanging out with the guys, we’ve had our fair share of truth-or-dare nights, and my pathetic relationship with Ed was a topic once. I’d never seen Talon—or Wesley, for that matter—get so pissed. It felt kind of nice to have them go all protective over me instead of drooling over my oh-so-perfect best friend.

“Still …,” Talon says, pulling onto the freeway. I mentally take note that I have only about five or seven minutes left with him. “What a dick.”

My teeth press into my bottom lip, biting back the goofiest of all grins. Once the jumping beans settle, I pull my foot on the seat and tuck my knee under my chin, hoping this will hide the dorky reactions I get from him just being him. “What about you?”

“I’m not a dick.”

“No.” I laugh. “Is Reagan the longest relationship you’ve been in?”

He gives me this look like,
Whoa, where did that come from?
but I’m clearly on topic. So I wait for him to answer.

“Reagan hasn’t told you all this already?”

“No.”

He raises his eyebrows, and I almost reach out to shove him, but I’m not sure I can do that without fumbling it. “I find that hard to believe,” he says, turning his gaze back on the road.

“Why?”

“Because Reagan talks about everything to everybody.”

Oh, an edge to his voice there. Maybe Wesley is right about there being some holes in this relationship.

I should correct him, say,
Yeah, she hasn’t told me about your past girls or sexual history or anything like that
. But instead I say, “I’d rather hear it all from you. You know how she can
exaggerate.” Then something heavy and sticky slides down my throat into the pit of my stomach, making me feel like absolute shit. And I should
not
be feeling like this when I’m with Talon. So I quickly excuse the guilt away by repeating what’s become my mantra:
We’ll all be happier in the end
.

He puts on his blinker to take the off-ramp, and the sound jolts me from my head. Talon taps his fingers on the wheel and gives a slight shrug of one shoulder. “How long have you known me, Kayla?”

Ignore your heart pounding a million miles a minute and answer him!
“Um, I’ve
known
you since you started dating Reagan. But I knew
of
you way before that.” Way, way, way before that. I watched you every day for eight years.

“So what did you know of me?”

That you are the most beautiful person on the planet. That you give up your seat when a girl walks in the room and there’s nowhere for her to sit. You set aside time to take your sister to wherever she wants to go whenever you see her. You make sure to pass the ball to several of those catcher guys on your team, and don’t play faves. You are pretty much perfect, except you can’t see what’s right in front of you. Which is that Reagan can’t love you like I can
.

I turn my eyes to my glittery toenails and start picking at the polish. “Not much, I guess.”

“You weren’t aware of my reputation?”

Of being the high school’s own Channing Tatum?

He laughs at my blank stare, and turns onto my dorm street. “Let’s say I had to do damage control once I started dating Reagan.”

What the heck is that supposed to mean? I have about five seconds to get more out of him before he stops the car. “I’m confused.”

“Seriously, you don’t remember?” He pulls into the spot closest to my dorm, puts the car in park, and shuts off the ignition. “I wasn’t exactly the monogamous type.”

Like a wrecking ball, the memory crashes into my brain. I must’ve pushed it so far away because I never wanted to believe Talon Gregory slept with so many people. And not just one person at a time either. They were all rumors, and I didn’t believe them because he never seemed like a man whore. But I suppose this is his confession. At least to me.

“Wow.” Whoops! Didn’t mean to say that out loud.

Thank heavens he laughs. “I know. I try to block it out too.”

“What’s so bad about it?” I ask, trying to keep my voice from shaking all over the place. Even though I know
exactly
what’s so bad. Reagan may seem super confident, but even she probably gets a complex with someone so experienced. Oh! Lightbulb … is that why they haven’t slept together yet?

Talon pinches his lips, then lets them fall back open like he’s about to share something
super personal. I better make sure I handle it with care and don’t freak the freak out. It was a long time ago anyway. Time to prove I’m a good go-to girl!

“You really didn’t know?” He smiles at me, but it’s not reaching up to his blue beauties. “It’s not like I kept real quiet about it.”

He stops and I wait for what seems like forever. Oh, why did I bring up this uncomfortable topic?

“Reagan knows about all the other girls, right? I mean, you guys went through”—I put my fingers up in quotes—“ ‘the list,’ right?”

“I told her everything … she wasn’t real happy. She kind of thinks because I’m—” His head goes back against the headrest again, and he starts fiddling with the keys in his hand. “Sorry, she’s your best friend. You don’t want to hear this.”

He reaches for his door handle, and I go into panic mode. He’s going to walk me to my door, but here in the car, it’s strangely intimate, and I don’t want him thinking I don’t want to talk to him.

“Talon,” I say, grabbing his biceps. My tiny hand can’t fit around it, and I have to focus on what I was going to say, instead of blurting out,
Holy muscles! Please wrap those arms around me and never let go!

His hand drops from the door handle, so as much as I don’t want to, I drop my hand as well. “Reagan’s not my only friend. You can talk to me, and I won’t say anything to her if you don’t want me to.”

He smiles, and this time it does go up to those sapphire eyes. He leans over the console, and … What’s happening? He’s not going to kiss me, right? He wouldn’t do that to Reagan. Even though the chemistry between us is flying through the car like his watermelon air freshener. I can’t move, and I can’t stop looking at his lips and wanting them on mine … but not yet.
Not yet!
I want to scream it, but I don’t have to. His face turns so it lands over my shoulder, and those big ol’ biceps I wanted around me wrap me up in the best hug I’ve ever had in my life. It’s totally orgasmic, which is embarrassing to admit, but I can’t think of any other way to describe it. And I wonder if Talon’s a good in-between-the-lines reader, because I know I didn’t say out loud that I wanted him to hug me, even though I was thinking it pretty hard.

I sigh over his shoulder, relaxing in his hold. Then his warm breath tickles my neck when he opens his mouth.

“Thanks, Kayla.” He pulls back and taps a finger across my nose, which jolts me because he’s never done something like that. “It was a long time ago, and I think Reagan and I are past it. I’d get into it more, but I’m going to fall asleep.”

Oh right! His eyes are all hooded and sleepy. “Are you okay to drive home?”

“It’s not far. I’ll be fine.”

“Well, text me or something when you get home so I know you didn’t fall asleep at the wheel.”

“I will.” He grabs his door handle again. “First, let’s get you home okay.”

If only our RA wasn’t such a tight-ass, I’d invite Talon in to sleep in Reagan’s bed till she got home, so I could watch him sleep. Instead, after he drops me off at the bottom of the stairs, I settle for sitting on my bed and staring at my phone, time going so slow I’m pretty sure it’s stopped completely. But the cell finally lights up and sings out “You Belong with Me,” by Taylor Swift. My Talon song.

Got home ok. Have a g’nite!

I read the text a million times before I doze off into Talon-induced dreams.

Progress Report: December 12

I think I may have made some headway. Talon is starting to open up to me! He was super close to spilling some major scoop the other day, I could tell. And since then we’ve spent exactly forty-two minutes alone. Not all at once. Just here and there. Like yesterday, when we walked to the restrooms together after class. One minute and thirty-seven seconds of nothing but Talon. It was heaven. I’m sure he felt it too, even though all we talked about was how our sixty-year-old Professor Summers had a hickey on his neck. Good for him.

This trip back home will be the best thing that ever happened to us!

(And don’t sigh every twenty seconds!)

Two weeks’ worth of clothes: check.

Toothbrush: check.

Two boxes of wheat crackers, a bag of frosted animal cookies, and a six-pack of Arrowhead water: check, check, and check.

And nerves?
Humongo
check. I may puke out all my insides.

I thought fifteen minutes in the car alone with Talon was nerve-racking. Now I have thirteen freaking hours in front of me—the car ride Wesley hooked me up with.

“Wesley, help!” I cry, flying back on my bed and slapping my arm over my eyes. I need a list of topics of conversation, and I need it memorized by tomorrow. If I sit there like an awkward, crushed-out dinkus, I will spend the entire winter break crying in my room, watching rom-coms, and throwing popcorn at the TV whenever things work out for the movie stars and not me.