My Boss's Kiss Page 6

  Ashley shook her head slightly, falling back in her chair. All of her excitement pretty much gone. “He hates them.”

  I rested my forehead against the table. Yeah, he hates them. Big time.

  I stole a quick glance at her. “Yeah, but he’ll go. He’ll see them with you—I mean, instead of me.”

  Ashley slumped further down in her seat. “He’ll complain though.”

  “Right.” I stared up at her, sad that she suddenly looked sad. “Look, do you want me to text him or not?”

  Her eyes looked defeated. Sort of crushed. Which made me ache. Why did she even have to think about it? Jason dragged her to places she didn’t want to go all of the time.

  She bit her shiny pink lips together. Lips that I wanted to touch with mine. So bad. I banged my forehead against the table, just slightly. Just enough to remind myself—I couldn’t go there. I could never go there.

  Ashley shook her head slightly and sighed. “You can just use the tickets, Adam. You know, you and Fiona can go.”

  I swallowed. Right. Fiona.

  A little shudder went through me just thinking about it—me taking Fiona to see my favorite band. No. No way. “I’m not feeling it … not tonight. You should take the tickets or it’ll be a waste.”

  She bit her lip as though thinking it over. But I knew she wanted to see the band. They rock.

  “Okay,” she finally said with another sigh. “Text Jason. I’ll make him go.”

  CHAPTER 14

  ADAM

  ADAM the day of the carnival

  Fiona was mad at me. I knew she would be. But it wasn’t my fault. Not exactly. See, my dad didn’t end up being able to give us a ride to the carnival like we had planned. (He owns a restaurant and my mom’s sick. He’s a busy guy.)

  Anyway, he couldn’t give us a ride. So I had to get a ride with Jason and his mom. And of course Ashley was riding with Jason. So, that meant Fiona couldn’t come with us. Because well, those two don’t get along—Ashley and Fiona. They so DON’T get along that it would make me laugh. Only Fiona would do mean things to Ashley—and say mean things to her. So, instead of laughing, I’d get mad and kind of sick … and need to get away. From them both.

  So, I was sort of relieved Fiona and I didn’t come to the carnival together and I got to hang out with Jason. Since he’s my best friend. But Fiona had been mad on the phone when I told her the arrangement—that I’d ride with Jason … and she wouldn’t.

  “Then it’s not really a date,” she had whined.

  “Hm. Sorry.” What else could I say?

  “Why don’t you ride with Sonya, Brent, and me?” she suggested, suddenly sounding all perky. Like she had come up with the perfect solution. “Then it’ll be like a double date. That’d be so fun!”

  Inside I groaned. But then I thought quick. “Look, I get kind of claustrophobic in cars sometimes.” Not a lie. “I feel like it will be really crowded—didn’t you say that girl, Carly, is riding with you too? There won’t be room in the car for me.”

  Fiona moaned. “Now I wish Carly wasn’t coming.”

  “But she is … right? So, I’ll just meet you at the carnival and we can ride some rides together.”

  “But that’s not a date,” Fiona said. It was like she was stomping her feet.

  She huffed, “Do you want to be my boyfriend or not?”

  She sounded mad. I didn’t want to deal with it—though I’d miss the sexy pictures.

  I drew out a long breath, deciding to be truthful. I mean, she was already mad—so what did I have to lose? “I don’t want to be your boyfriend if you’re going to get mad at stupid stuff.”

  She hung up on me.

  I felt relieved.

  CHAPTER 15

  ADAM

  ADAM

  At the carnival, I tried to seem sad that Fiona and I broke-up. Like I had liked Fiona a lot. I don’t know exactly why I did that. Just to bug Ashley, I guess. Make her think I was into someone that wasn’t her. Since the pathetic truth was, I wasn’t into anyone but her.

  That day at the carnival I spent a lot of the day wincing. I couldn’t help it. I’d wince whenever Ashley and Jason would get cuddly—which was constantly. Wince when Ashley would laugh at Jason’s lame jokes, or smile at him, or look at him. Yeah, I spent basically the whole morning wincing. Real fun.

  Then I saw it—the sign at the Basket Ball Toss: Five dollars—one kiss. My eyebrows rose at the words. It was just a joke, of course. It was hand-written at the bottom of our school’s fundraiser booth sign, under the real message:

  One dollar—two throws

  Two dollars—five throws

  I didn’t mention the sign to Ashley. Instead, I shot her a tiny look. “Hey, Ashley, weren’t you going to work one of the booths for a while?”

  She made a face. “Yes. Why? You want to get rid of me?”

  For a second, it seemed like she was going to get mad. For real. But she didn’t—not really. She just gave me a fake grimace. “Fine. Whatever. Have Jason to yourself for a while. I get it—bro time.”

  She gave Jason a playful kiss on the tip of his nose. It was so cute.

  I didn’t mean to watch. But I did, anyway. I couldn’t tear my eyes away. Seeing her pretty lips go all tender and gentle made the pit of my stomach crush with a terrible longing that I didn’t quite understand—though in a way, sadly, I did. Enough that I felt doomed.

  Ashley caught me looking at them and laughed, totally misunderstanding my expression. “Wow. We really do make you sick, huh?”

  For some reason she thought I hated her. Maybe it was because I said things like I answered that day, “Well, you guys are pretty disgusting.”

  She laughed and kissed Jason again—just to taunt me. And it worked. I was taunted, big time. Just not the way she thought. She thought she was grossing me out. Only, it was the total opposite. Total. Opposite.

  I watched her frosted pink lips press against Jason’s and I felt all the blood drain from my face and go to my heart.

  “Wow!” Ashley said when she playfully glanced my way. I was probably all pale—I felt pale.

  My throat was all tight.

  Ashley’s lips formed an “O.”

  The muscles in my jaw tensed. “Are you going to go or what?”

  Whoa, ease up Adam. It’s not her fault you’re demented with a crush on her.

  Still, what came out of my mouth was, “Your booth is waiting.”

  It wasn’t really that I wanted to kiss my best friend’s girl. (Okay, I did want to—bad … but I wasn’t really planning on it.)

  I tried telling myself I just wanted to see Ashley squirm when guys lined up to get a kiss. Like it was just supposed to be funny. Only the thought made me sort of sick. So, the joke was more like it was on me.

  See, I was really screwed up. Big time. And I did stupid stuff like that all the time. I had no idea why. I was just seriously messed in the head from having a demented crush on my best friend’s girlfriend.

  That crush—it tortured me. Haunted me. Made me do crazy, stupid, heart-killing things.

  There was no doubt—I was crushed by the crush.

  CHAPTER 16

  ADAM

  ADAM

  While Jason and I were waiting in line for the tilt-a-whirl, Fiona and her friends got in line behind us.

  “Can I talk to you?” Fiona asked. “Alone.”

  I quirked an eyebrow, surprised that she was suddenly talking to me again. She’d kept giving me dirty looks whenever our paths crossed all day. Of course I’d always been with Ashley. That might have explained her hostility. But the thing was, Ashley had noticed Fiona giving me the dirty looks. She kept telling me, “Just ignore her, Adam. She’s a stupid witch.” She even gave me a sympathetic squeeze on my arm a couple of times and offered me her cotton candy. So, I wasn’t really bothered by Fiona’s hostility. In fact, I liked its effect. A lot. So, I wasn’t mad at Fiona.

  So, her request to talk to me wasn’t a big deal. I shrugged, “Sur
e. Talk to me.”

  We walked away from our friends a bit and I offered to buy her a soda from one of the food booths. I mean, since we were supposed to be on a date and everything.

  “Thanks,” she said and I guess she wanted to make up. Because she cuddled up to me really close and smiled.

  I shoved my hands in my pockets, kind of torn—wanting to run my hands through her hair with my eyes closed. Pretend she was Ashley. But that seemed truly messed up. I sank my hands deeper in my pockets. “Your lips smell like cherries.”

  “It’s my lip gloss,” she murmured.

  I raised my eyebrows. “Taste as good as it smells?”

  Ashley’s lips smelled like cherries, too. So, I was more than a little curious.

  Fiona’s smile grew bigger and she got a flirty gleam in her eyes. “Want to taste it and see?”

  She puckered her lips up for me.

  I could have kissed her. Thought about it. After all, I had ties to no one. But then again, she was a witch to Ashley. It made me kind of hate her. No way was I going to kiss that. No matter how nice it smelled.

  Instead of using my mouth, I brushed my finger lightly over her lips. Then I licked my finger. “Mm. Yeah, cherries. Let’s go.”

  “Wait!” she said and sort of did a foot stomp. Like she wasn’t used to this—her target not kissing her when she offered.

  Her voice went soft and coaxing, “We can get back together, Adam. Be a couple again…. You just can’t hang around Ashley.”

  My jaw muscles ticked. “Yeah, but that’s not going to happen.”

  Fiona narrowed her eyes. “You’re choosing Ashley over me?”

  I shrugged. “I guess.”

  She cursed (impressively) and stomped away from me.

  I scratched my chin. Drama.

  CHAPTER 17

  While Ashley worked at the Basket Ball Toss, Jason and I rode the tilt-a-whirl a bunch of times. Then he got nauseous. While he went to the bathroom to throw up—or whatever he planned to do in there—I watched Ashley from afar as she worked at the booth. It was by the bathroom, so it wasn’t exactly stalking. Well, okay it was totally stalking.

  Watching her, I held my breath. It was like the other day when I sat listening to her read her poem in class with my heart pounding.

  It was always like that.

  Every day I would watch her saunter up to the board in class and I couldn’t breathe.

  Finally, there was no line at Ashley’s booth. She was alone. I wandered over to her without even realizing I was going to. I just found myself there. At her booth.

  When she saw me standing there, watching her, she dropped the book she was holding. She was flustered around me—always was. Like she knew there was something going on inside me even if I never confessed it. At least I thought she knew—suspected, anyway.

  She gave a surprised gasp/yelp, then tried to cover for it by being overly friendly. “Oh, hi Adam!”

  She smiled all toothy but awkward, like Why are you here without Jason? But all she said was, “By the way, thanks for the band tickets the other night. My friend, Summer and I used them—since Jason didn’t want to go.”

  I nodded slightly, at first not saying anything. The band tickets—not exactly my finest moment. I’d bought them knowing (well, suspecting) I’d be paired with Ashley for the companion thing. But of course I couldn’t go through with the idea I’d had—suggesting she go with me to see my favorite band—which I knew was her favorite band too.

  Even as I bought the tickets, I knew I wouldn’t use them. My only saving grace was the fact I wasn’t altogether certain I’d be paired with Ashley … but of course in the end, I was. (And deep down, I’d known I would be.)

  Finally, I managed to speak, tearing my eyes away from her smile and focused on the conversation—Ashley using the tickets I’d given her and ending up going to the concert with her friend instead of Jason. I managed not to look sympathetic. Or overly interested. “I know—Jason told me.”

  She gave a weak smile. “He didn’t want to miss his zombie movie.”

  I grinned a little, “Or his date with Max.”

  She laughed. “Right.”

  Her laugh made my heart pound. I looked away from her, feeling guilty.

  And I didn’t feel any better about myself as I got a rush hearing her next words, “They’re my favorite band. I’m so glad you had the tickets. I didn’t even know you liked them.”

  I squeezed my eyes shut, then tried to give a teasing smile as I raised my eyebrows. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

  Before that could be taken too accurately, and seriously, I added really quick, “But maybe that’s for the best—I hear I’m a heartbreaker.”

  I watched her pretty face redden. As I knew it would. I’d overheard her call me that—a “heartbreaker.” She said it to one of her friends that had a crush on me. But I really hadn’t known how to handle the girl’s crush. I mean, she was Ashley’s friend, and I was in love with Ashley. So, it didn’t seem fair to the girl. And really, I didn’t think I could handle it anyway, dating someone that would talk about Ashley all of the time. So, when I shot the girl’s plans down—that we go to a movie or something—Ashley told her, “You don’t want to get involved with Adam anyway—he’s a heartbreaker.”

  But see, really I wasn’t like that. Only, I guess to Ashley I was. ‘Cause she didn’t know. Had no clue what she did to my heart—that she was the heartbreaker. And that she was the reason I avoided her friends … because they weren’t her.

  Ashley’s cheeks grew even redder as I just watched her reaction, unable to hide my darkly sardonic teasing smile.

  She stammered out, “You—you heard me say that?”

  I breathed out a laugh. “Yeah, I heard you. You said it right in front of me. How could I not hear it?”

  She raised her eyebrows, getting some of her spunk back. “Um, because you don’t listen to a word I say?”

  I just smiled at that. The chick had absolutely no clue that I hung on every word she uttered.

  Ashley sighed, apparently thinking she needed to explain (which she didn’t). “Adam, she’s my friend and she liked you a lot. You hurt her feelings.”

  Mockingly, I covered my heart with my hand. “Well, you hurt mine, Ashley—calling me a heartbreaker.”

  She rolled her eyes, but she was smiling, mocking right back to me, “Right. I hurt the Heartbreaker’s heart with my cruel, cruel words. Can you ever forgive me? Please?” She held out a basketball to me. “Here, have a free throw—it’s on me. And then we’re even.”

  “Even?” I leaned over the counter of the booth, tilting my head up at her. “I’ll make us even.” The words came out more husky than I’d meant.

  Ashley tilted her head at me, her eyes full of question. Like, What are you talking about strange heartbreaker boy?

  “Here’s five dollars,” I said softly.

  “Ok-ayy,” she said, like I was acting funny. But she didn’t question it. She figured she just didn’t get me and that was okay with her since she usually didn’t have to. I was just the jerk she had to tolerate for Jason’s sake—but she didn’t have to understand me.

  Without questioning me, she took my money and gave me five balls.

  “Okay.” I took one of the balls and tossed it from one hand to the other. I grinned at her. “If I make the shot, then I want what the bottom row says.”

  She scrunched up her brow and followed my gaze to the sign. She read the bottom row, then did a little gasp/yelp. Five dollars—one kiss. Until that moment, she hadn’t noticed it written there. Apparently. Now she was all red-faced again. And I tried telling myself I did it just for that—to see her pretty blush again.

  She stammered out, “Right—well, I’ll send Fiona right over.”

  “Fiona dumped me—remember?” The words weren’t true—I’d dumped her. But Ashley didn’t know that. For some reason, I liked her to think I was crushed—maybe so she wouldn’t think I was such a heartbreak
er.

  “I’m sorry,” Ashley whispered, turning pale. “I didn’t know that’s what happened. Fiona’s dumb. You deserve better.”

  I widened my eyes. Her words did something to the pit of my stomach.

  Trying to console me (I guess) she blurted out, “If you make the shot—I’ll give you this pretty stuffed snake.”

  My eyebrows went up. Along with the corners of my mouth. “No, I want the kiss.”

  “Right,” she laughed. “I doubt it will make anyone jealous but Jason. Fiona’s not around—she won’t even see.”

  I tossed the ball back and forth, back and forth, from one hand to the other, not saying anything, just watching her.

  “I don’t want to make anyone jealous,” I said. “I just want the kiss.”

  Ashley’s lips parted slightly, and she dropped the stuffed snake she was holding. But she recovered quickly.

  “Sure,” she said with a forced shrug, trying to act as though her cheeks weren’t on fire. But they were as red as a juicy, ripe tomato. Then she added with a wicked smile, “If you make the shot.”

  I grinned, raising my eyebrows. “So, we have a deal?”

  “Sure,” she said again.

  But then she added, because that’s Ashley, “But just so you know—and don’t get your heartbreaker feelings hurt—no one’s made the shot the whole hour I’ve been working here.”

  A lazy smile spread across my lips. “But we have a deal?”

  “Right, we have a deal,” she teased playfully. “If you make the shot you win the big, gigantic, humungous prize that we all know you’re dying for—a kiss from me.”

  A slow smirk spread on my face.

  She took it wrong. “What? You’re going to throw it backwards? Into the trashcan?”

  Without answering her, I took the shot. And made it.

  I couldn’t help another smirk stretching across my lips. ‘Cause she just stood there, dumbstruck and pale, staring at the basket that had just had a ball whoosh through it—the first one in an hour.