Switched: Flirt New Adult Romance (7 page)

Wesley chuckles and sits next to me on the bed, holding his acoustic guitar in his arms, strumming the strings lightly. “You’re so needy. What happened to the whole ‘Talon and I are soul mates’ thing? I’d think soul mates would be able to find things to talk about without help.”

The second he sets the guitar down, I throw a perfect elbow to his gut. He rolls into a fetal position and half laughs, half whines.

“Jerk. I’m helping you with
your
car ride.”

He shifts on the bed so that he’s leaning against the wall. His hand goes over the spot where I elbowed him, rubbing the pain out, before he brings his acoustic back on his lap. He’s probably using it for armor now. “Honestly, I think Reagan and I will be sleeping more than talking.”

“Bor-ing.” I slide up so I can sit with him. “Don’t you want to take advantage of it? That’s what it was all about, right?”

“I guess. But I’m not all that smooth when it comes to her. You should’ve seen me
fumbling after you guys left last week. Sleeping may be my best bet.”

I almost spout off my snarky comment about how that’s because his mouth is closed when he sleeps, but I stop myself when I see how sad he looks. Damn it.

“Reagan said she had fun with you.” That’s a total lie, but she didn’t say she didn’t have fun. “It couldn’t have been that bad.”

He rolls his head to the side to give me a you’re-full-of-shit look and strums his long fingers against the strings. “You know how you have this weird, uncontrollable sigh when it comes to Talon?” I punch his shoulder, and he lets go of the strings to shove back, but not hard. “Well, when I’m with Reagan … alone especially, I get this weird, uncontrollable stare.”

“What?”

He goes back to playing. “I stare at her. Like I’ve gone brain dead. She says something, but I don’t hear it even though I see her mouth moving. Then she looks at me like no one’s home.” He taps his forehead, then covers his face with his long, bony fingers, the room suddenly very quiet without the background music.

“So you space out. Everyone does that.”

“Yeah, but it happens so much I know I’m making her uncomfortable.”

“Nothing makes Reagan uncomfortable.”

That seems to make him ease up. The dimple on his chin gets a little more prominent as he smiles through the hand still covering half his face. “Yeah, you could be right about that.”

“I’m right about everything.” I shove off the bed and crack open my laptop. “Okay,” I say, wiggling my fingers over the keyboard as he goes back to strumming the guitar, “tell me what to talk about tomorrow.”

“Just pepperoni? Why not sausage and pepperoni? Or olives or Canadian bacon?”

Talon’s flipping through the songs on his iPod with one earbud in his ear while the other dangles down his toned chest under a blue button-down. I don’t blame him for acting so—there’s no other word for it—bored. I think I’ll make myself fall asleep with all the pizza talk. And we’ve only been in the car for twenty minutes. Ugh.

Wesley better keep a close eye on his guitar. I sense its life is in danger.

Talon eventually shrugs and says, “I don’t know. Guess I like plain pizza.”

“Cheese is plain pizza. Unless it’s the four-cheese kind. I can’t remember what the four cheeses are, though. Mozzarella, that’s a given. But what else? I know it can’t be feta. Because when you cook feta, it smells like ass.” I wink at him, and he semi-chuckles. Like one of those
really awkward I’m-humoring-you laughs. I want to slam my face on the horn.

Why is it I can chatter my tongue off with any other guy—even Wesley—and make it super interesting and funny, but when it comes to the God-sent specimen next to me, I end up blabbering about cheese? Talon sticks the other earbud in and reclines his seat. Lovely. This is just
lovely!
I’ve reached the maximum level of awkward.

Desperate for something to do, I make sure his eyes are still closed before I reach between his legs to get a box of crackers, even though I’m far from hungry. I’ll probably end up stopping at a gas station to barf because my stomach feels like stretched rubber. Putting food in there will send it bouncing right back out.

Talon shifts, and my arm gets trapped between his thighs. His closed eyes pop open, and I jump back into my seat, swerving the car onto the rumble strip on the side of the interstate. I think five gallons of blood rush to my face.

I can’t look at him. Oh holy wow, I almost touched his crotch! I may die right here in the driver’s seat.

When the blood stops pounding in my ears, I hear something else, and I finally get the nerve to shoot my eyes over to Talon, who’s laughing his butt off. And like there’s a flusher on the side of my head, my face goes from super hot to lukewarm as I bust up with him and the blood returns to other areas of my body.

He plucks an earbud out, still chuckling as he says, “And I thought things couldn’t get more awkward between us.”

That stops my laughter. I knew I was being a total dud. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

“Kayla, I was only talking about the fact you’re my girlfriend’s best friend, and we’re alone together.
You
aren’t awkward.”

My pizza conversation begs to differ. “Like I told you before, you’re my friend too. It shouldn’t be awkward at all.”

“Yeah.” He leans back again, tucking a hand behind his head and closing his eyes. “Speaking of Reagan, I’m on an assignment.”

“Oh?”

“She wants me to drill you on what you want for Christmas. She wanted me to be subtle about it, but …”

I laugh. “I like direct. Tell her I want something that won’t embarrass me this year.”

“You didn’t like the underwear and fabric softener she got you?”

One of his eyes pops open to catch my reaction, so I pull out a full-force gag and grimace. Leave it to Reagan to give me G-strings on Christmas. And not just any Christmas, but the first one we had with the guys. I had to suffer through a million and a half wedgie jokes, compliments of Wesley and his big mouth.

“Okay, can you be more specific? I don’t want to go back to her with only that. She’ll jump down my throat about how useless I am.”

Another edge to his voice. I want to poke and prod at it, but I’m not sure how to do that without sending up a red flag with the words I Want to Be Mrs. Talon Gregory! scrawled all over it.

But I only have two weeks. I can’t miss
any
opportunity.

“Everything okay?”

He shrugs, keeping his eyes closed. I go for the reverse psychology tactic.

“I won’t say anything to her, but I get it if you don’t want to talk about it. No biggie.”

“She’s been on my case lately. Not sure why. But it’s like I’m not enough all of a sudden.” Takes two seconds for him to spill. Score one for Kayla!

I nod, then remember his eyes are closed. “Have you talked to her about it?”

“I’ve tried. She acts like I’m a crazy person and shrugs it off. It’s frustrating as hell, but I don’t want to fight, so I let it go.”

Sounds like her. “You should tell her how you’re feeling. She may freak out, but she needs to know you’re serious. Maybe then you can find out what’s wrong with her.”

“You wouldn’t happen to know, would ya? It would sure save me the headache.”

I glance over at him, and he’s smiling. I have the sudden urge to shove his shoulder, but that seems too brotherly-sisterly. Like how I would act with Wesley, not Talon. So I keep my hands on the wheel. “Sorry. Not going to get in the middle,” I lie. Because I’m going to get to the bottom of this one as soon as I see Reagan. “But if it saves you an argument, tell her I want new car seat covers. And not pink ones. I want black or something neutral. Even though it is funny to watch you guys drive my car in pink-clad seats.”

“You are a lifesaver, Kayla.”

I bite back the huge-ass grin threatening to take over my face. It’s getting easier now to relax and talk about something other than stupid pizza. I want to do a fist pump and pull out my phone to tell Wesley. Since he’d be the only one happy for me.

“Hey, can we stop in a bit? All that pepperoni talk has me starving for something other than what we got.”

Talon rubs his stomach, and I’m jealous of that hand because I bet it’s running over some delicious abs right now.

“Sure. Take a nap first, then we’ll eat and swap seats.”

Hopefully after he wakes up, I’ll have a whole bunch of amazing and interesting topics stocked in my brain.

(Even if it means eating burnt food.)

Talon’s house was our normal hangout before we all gassed it up to college. And when the tires knock against the curb, I fly out of the car and flop into the mounds of snow in his front yard. Oh snow, how I’ve missed you! All we have in Berkeley is this gross rain that wants to be snow, but can’t quite get there. Spokane has the good stuff.

A big duffel bag lands next to my head, and Talon sinks into the icy cold next to me. And here I thought we were too old for snow angels, but we both wave our arms around, occasionally smacking into each other.

We stop, and I let out a sigh, but not one of my Talon sighs. I love college, love being on my own, but there’s something about being home that puts warm fuzzies all over my heart.

“We need hot chocolate,” Talon says, sitting up. He quirks a smile my way and holds his hand out. When I settle my tiny fingers in his large man ones, a Talon sigh pops out. I internally curse myself.

I’m a lot closer to his coat-covered chest when I’m upright, and there’s a beat when his hand stays around mine and I’m able to smell the peppermints he has in one of his pockets. Or maybe it’s his breath. I don’t know. I don’t care. I don’t really know or care about much of anything right now. His eyes lock with mine, there’s another beat, and I can’t breathe. Can’t even smell the peppermint anymore because no air will enter my nostrils. It takes me singing Reagan’s name over and over in my head to stop my lips from planting themselves anywhere on that gorgeous face.

What is happening?
Reagan is your best friend
. He’s staring at me. This isn’t normal!
Reagan is your best friend
. He’s smiling. Holy wow, he’s still holding my hand.
Reagan is your best friend
. Is he leaning in? No, he can’t be. Yes, he is!
Reagan is your best friend!

He bends and grabs the bag by our feet, his face now super close to mine. But before I can think any harder about that, he drops my hand and takes a step back to pull the strap over his head.

I am losing my mind.

“Talon’s here!” A girl my size—meaning preteen-looking body, but she’s
actually
a
preteen—bolts out the door without a coat. She’s wearing flip-flops, not caring at all about the snow, and flies into her brother’s arms. Her long blond hair gets stuck in his wide-open mouth as she screeches over his shoulder, “You’re here! You’re here! You’re here!”

If there’s anything that can make a sexy man sexier, it’s seeing him hug his little sister, pick her up, and carry her into the house so she doesn’t freeze her feet off. “Crazy girl. You want to get sick for your winter vacation?”

Celeste makes a face at him before pouncing into my arms. “Oh my gosh, Kayla. I’ve got so much to tell you.”

“Her? What do you have to tell her that you can’t tell me?” Talon makes the cutest round eyes at his twelve-year-old sister.

“Girl stuff,” is all Celeste says before dragging me into the kitchen. The smell of burnt chocolate and pumpkin filters through my nostrils, and I try not to cringe. What the hell happened in that oven?

“What’s that smell?” Apparently Talon isn’t as tactful as I am, but it is his house. “Smells like someone cooked a rotten jack-o’-lantern.”

“You’re lucky Mom didn’t hear you say that. She spent the last two hours trying to get these cookies right for you.”

Talon does that pretend zipper thing across his lips, and when Celeste turns away he does a gagging gesture. I bite back my super-girly giggle. Even though they’ll probably make him puke later, I know he’ll eat his mom’s cookies and say he loves them.

“I’m going to go chuck this upstairs,” Talon says, holding up his duffel. “Have your girl talk or whatever while I’m gone, but then I get my little sister for the rest of the night.”

He smiles, and I sigh because he’s oh so perfect.

Celeste pulls my arm again, and tells me to get out of my coat and sit at the table. She has
big
news. Her blue eyes get all wide and excited as she bounces in the seat across from me. “You will not believe this, but I totally had my first kiss!”

I squeal, giving her the response I’m sure she wants, since I know if she told Talon, he’d go all macho big brother on her. Not me. I’m going to be the big sister she never had. Reagan usually fills that role, but hey, I’m the one who’s here. I have to wiggle my way into Talon’s view. He has to notice sooner or later how perfect we are together. I mean, look at this sister bonding moment here!

I lean across the table, grabbing Celeste’s jittery hands. “Tell me everything!”