My Boss's Kiss Page 7

  My lips twitched. “The bet still on?”

  She blinked. “Um …” she scrunched up her brow, like she didn’t know how she should behave.

  I watched her a moment, wondering what she would do if I really made her go through with it—kiss me. Would she actually do it?

  But that wasn’t my plan. Never was. I stepped back, pushing myself away from the booth. “Nah, I’m just kidding. I won the kiss for Jason—tell him he won the big, gigantic, humungous, grand prize.”

  CHAPTER 18

  ASHLEY

  Ashley’s version

  At the carnival, Adam comes up to my booth while there’s no one around.

  My heart does a strange jumpy thing when I see him, which is weird. But ever since that night we were paired together as “companions” I’m flustered around him. It’s disturbing. I mean, this is Adam. Adam!!! He hates me. So I should get a grip.

  Still, whatever. He’s hurt about Fiona. Which is sad. I think about offering him a free ball to throw, since he’s in a fight with his very, very first girlfriend. Sad!!!!

  However, Adam’s way too good for Fiona, so I’m glad they broke up. But it’s heart-wrenchingly sad that Adam is bummed about it. I wish he could see that really and truly it’s best for him this way. That he’s better off without Fiona. The girl is not nice.

  I think about offering him a free ball to throw. Like maybe that will cheer him up. But instead I say, “Thanks for the band tickets the other night. My friend, Summer, and I used them—since Jason didn’t want to go.”

  Adam gives a little nod. “I know—Jason told me.”

  Right. Of course. They tell each other everything.

  Adam goes on to tease me a bit, because he can’t resist. I’m easy prey for him. But today it’s different.

  For some reason, Adam’s teasing grin makes my stomach flutter. This is not good. I look away from him, feeling stupid.

  Before I can think of anything to say, Adam does. “How did you like the band?” he asks.

  “Oh! They were awesome! I love them so much!”

  I bite the inside of my cheek, confused by the way he’s looking at me. Maybe I was getting over excited.

  I try to tone it down—speak instead of gush. “They’re my favorite band. I’m glad you had the tickets. I didn’t even know you liked them.”

  He gives me a weak smile, “There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

  Then he goes on to tease me—as usual. This time because I called him a heartbreaker to my friend Darcy, since Darcy has a huge, monster crush on him.

  But Adam is a heartbreaker. He’s broken my heart a bunch of times. More than he probably knows.

  Adam’s eyes watch mine a moment, linger.

  Then he points out the game’s sign to me.

  “If I make the shot, then I want what the bottom row says.”

  I read the sign, then my heart practically explodes. I stammer out with a nervous laugh, “Right—well, I’ll send Fiona right over.”

  “Fiona dumped me—remember?” He looks down at the ball as he says that so I can’t see his face.

  Oh. Wow. I didn’t know that’s how it happened. I mean, I knew they weren’t together anymore. Of course. But Fiona dumped Adam? Really??? I really couldn’t see that. At all. Adam is super popular. He’s considered a hot item at our school. I mean, a bunch of girls want him. (Poor Darcy included.) (Darcy wants him bad.)

  But so, Fiona was quite proud to be Adam’s first girlfriend. She bragged about it any chance she got—and smugly shoved it in my face, constantly. You know, that Jason’s best friend was dating her.

  So, I had wished and prayed that they would break up. But I didn’t want it to be like this. With Adam all sad and heartbroken. But I guess I get it—why he’s so sad. I mean, Fiona had been his very first girlfriend. So, he obviously liked her a lot.

  “I’m sorry,” I whisper to Adam. “Fiona’s dumb. You deserve better.”

  Adam’s eyebrows rise and he gives me this look. I have no idea what it’s about but it does something to the pit of my stomach. Something fluttery.

  I blurt out, “If you make the shot—I’ll give you this snake.”

  He grins and his eyebrows go up. “No, I want the kiss.”

  As I go up in flames, he gets exactly what he wants—me all flustered.

  He’s definitely trying to make me uncomfortable … and it’s working. My cheeks are on fire. I’m probably red as a tomato—just as he intended.

  There’s not much chance he’s going to make the shot. In fact, it seems like zero chance. No one has made it the whole time I’ve been working the booth. So, I feel pretty safe with my cheeky reply.

  “Sure,” I say with a shrug, “If you make the shot.”

  I say it like he doesn’t have a prayer—and like I’m not all sizzling inside, though I know he can tell I am. (‘cause suddenly I’m fantasizing it—kissing Adam.) (Oh no!)

  He grins, tilting his head up at me. “So, we have a deal?”

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

  He gives me this slow smirk—probably because it is just so hilarious how much he does not want to kiss me. He’ll probably throw the ball the other direction. Or in the trashcan or something.

  But no.

  He throws it right towards the basket … and—WHOA!!! He makes the shot.

  Another slow smirk spreads across his lips as he stares at my dumbstruck face. “The bet still on?”

  I blink. And try to lift my jaw from the ground.

  “Um …” I scrunch up my brow, totally not getting his joke.

  My stomach is suddenly doing these strange acrobat things, because it kind of suddenly seems like he really does want to kiss me. The way he’s gazing at me—it has my heart pounding wild.

  Adam watches me a moment, his eyes intently on me. Then he steps back, pushing himself away from the booth. “Nah, I’m just kidding. I won the kiss for Jason—tell him he won the big, gigantic, grand prize.”

  That’s all he said. Then he walked away.

  I blinked after him.

  Adam was a mystery to me. I truly didn’t get him. Sometimes in class I would look up and catch him watching me. It did funny things to my heart. Every time. So, as much as I felt I should hate him—I didn’t. I tried. But … I failed.

  I mean sometimes he was extremely mean to me. A lot of the time. So, it would be safer to my heart if I could just succeed—hate him. Especially because he seemed to think Jason was insane for liking me. So, like I said, I tried hating Adam.

  Tried … and failed.

  CHAPTER 19

  ADAM

  ADAM

  By the time Jason finally came out of the bathroom, I was all done spinning up his girlfriend.

  I was talking with some skater friends of mine, seeing if any of them needed a drummer. (I was extremely available and not feeling the guitar anymore.)

  Jason slogged over to me and begged me to watch the booth for Ashley. “Just really quick,” he said. “The line is really short right now.”

  He wanted to have a ride on the Ferris wheel with Ashley while the sun was setting. He said it would be “romantic.”

  I drew in a long breath, but he didn’t even give me a chance to answer. He grabbed Ashley’s hand and pulled her towards the Ferris wheel, saying “Thanks, man,” over his shoulder to me as they ran off.

  “Yeah. You’re welcome,” I said. To absolutely no one. Because they were gone.

  CHAPTER 20

  ADAM

  ADAM

  Ashley and Jason came back from the Ferris wheel just as Fiona and her friends decided to congregate near my booth.

  I was still working behind the counter. Jason and Ashley were just making their way back to me. That’s when it happened. Fiona said to her friends really loud, “I’d rather kiss any boy here than kiss Adam. No way would I pay five dollars for it—I wouldn’t even
do it if he paid me a hundred.”

  Ashley must have heard that. And must have gotten the wrong idea—that I cared or something. Because she glared at Fiona.

  Then she marched over to me and handed me five dollars.

  “A KISS please,” she said—loudly. So loud not only Fiona and her friends could hear … but probably the whole carnival.

  Fiona’s friends went silent. Fiona too. She glared at Ashley, her eyes narrowing to slits.

  Before I had time to tell Ashley that she didn’t need to do this—stick up for me and my broken heart (because it wasn’t broken)—she grabbed each of my shoulders with her cute little hands, drawing her face so close to mine I could feel her sweet, cool, Ashley-breath on my cheek and neck. Whoa.

  My heart pounded.

  “Act like we’re kissing,” she instructed in a hushed whisper, her delicious breath tickling my ear and sending an embarrassing thrill through me—through my whole body.

  I stood stock-still as she tenderly cupped my chin in her soft hand, making my breath catch in my throat. Her pink lips slowly drew near mine.

  My heart slammed against my chest and the world spun. Ashley’s lips are right next to mine.

  I got what she was doing. I did. Everyone back there, behind us—Fiona and all her friends—from their angle, they would think we were kissing. Because they couldn’t actually see our faces or what our mouths were doing. (Mine was smiling huge, by the way.) (Also, it was open in a gasp.)

  The thing was though, Ashley was so close I was having trouble keeping our tiny distance.

  I was so tempted to move closer. I practically groaned. All I wanted to do—the only thing in the world—was move closer and press my lips against hers for real. Feel her mouth on mine.

  Man, it was tempting.

  But I resisted. With tortured effort.

  Instead, I stood perfectly still. Suffering, but in heaven. Her breath warming my lips.

  My heart pounding, I totally drank in the moment. Drank in her closeness—breathed in her scent. Her hair smelled like apples and cinnamon. Her lips smelled like cherries. I never wanted to taste anything so bad in my life as I wanted to taste those lips—feel them on mine.

  When Ashley finally pulled away from me, a piece of me died.

  A cold chill immediately swept in, taking the place of Ashley’s warm closeness, her little body pressed up against mine.

  I blinked and realized I’d been holding my breath. I let it out slowly.

  Dazed, I heard Ashley whisper to Jason, “Did you take a picture?”

  I had no clue what they were talking about. The world was still kind of hazy and spinning around me.

  But a moment later, I got a text from Ashley. It was a picture of us. Holy smokes! It looked as though we were totally making out.

  The caption on the picture said: “Even girls with HOT boyfriends can’t resist this AMAZING kisser—Adam Baker (aka: Yum!). But Fiona LOST Adam … because Fiona is a LOSER!!”

  My world still spinning, I blinked at the text.

  Ashley had sent it to the whole school.

  CHAPTER 21

  ADAM

  ADAM

  I left Ashley and Jason alone in the tilt-a-whirl line—just ’cause I kept catching myself being stupid—staring at them holding hands, my heart full of hunger and longing.

  Instead of admitting anything like that—those kind of feelings—I’d tried to make it seem the total opposite. I backed away from them, muttering in a half-teasing, half-disgusted tone, “You know what? You guys kind of make me sick with your cuddling. I’m going to go hang out with the guys for a while—after I puke.”

  As I was walking away, Ashley called playfully after me, “What?! We were just going to use the kiss you won for Jason at the Basketball Toss. We thought you wanted to be around to see it.”

  She said all of that with a cute little laugh.

  When I turned around to give her a smart remark—she caught me off-guard. Completely. She kissed Jason. Long and hard on the mouth. She never did that in front of me before—not a real kiss.

  Ouch! Okay, I guess I deserved that move, but whoa!

  The smart remark I was going to say to her caught in my throat. I couldn’t say anything. At all. Instead I just gave a slight nod, trying not to stagger.

  Once I could breathe, I gave her a salute. What else could I do? The girl kicked my butt.

  I staggered away—knowing I was all white.

  I was about ready to bang my head against the nearest tree, but right then I looked up and there was this new girl from our class, Brandy.

  She stared at me—calmly, directly into my eyes. The girl sure wasn’t shy about letting me know she wasn’t shy.

  “Hi guy,” she said.

  “Hi. I’m Adam.” I wasn’t sure she knew that, since she was so new to our school.

  “Oh, I know.” Her eyes twinkled with full-on girly-flirt.

  Holy smokes. So not shy.

  “Hi,” I said again. Then tilted my head at her, “You want to go on the Ferris Wheel with me?”

  She smiled, her eyes teasing. “I saw people kissing up there. Is that what you people do in this town on Ferris Wheels?” Her smile grew even bigger. “Seems fun. Sure, I would love to go on the Ferris Wheel with you.”

  Man! I didn’t really think I could get Ashley out of my head. But Brandy definitely seemed like the girl to help me try.

  And she was new. She wouldn’t diss Ashley like Fiona. Or gush about her like most of the girls at our school. I wouldn’t have to stick up for Ashley or hear about Ashley or talk about Ashley. With Brandy my world could be totally Ashley Free.

  Best Friend’s-girl Free.

  I grabbed Brandy’s hand tight.

  Like, for dear life.

  … I ended up marrying that hand.

  CHAPTER 22

  ASHLEY

  PRESENT DAY

  ASHLEY—present day

  ‘I don’t hate you, Jones. I don’t. But I am mad. And you’re going to have to pay me back. Do you understand, Jones? Do you understand how you’re going to pay me back?’ Adam’s words kept flittering through my brain.

  I palmed my flaming cheeks.

  Despite those astonishing words, I also had other thoughts swirling in my head—Adam’s eyes on me as he watched my hair come down from its clip; his teasing words telling me to get naked and lean over his bed; his buying me an air conditioner; his taking the kids on rides at the fair though he knew it would ruin his sexy plans with his sexy (evil) girlfriend; his choosing me and the kids over Lindsey that day at his beach house—the day Jillian threw up in his hot tub….

  Actually, he had chosen the kids and me over Lindsey time and time again. But come to think of it, Adam chose the kids and me always, over everything.

  Tingles rushed through me realizing that. Holding my breath, I read Adam’s startling reply to my condolences again, to my telling him it was better for him this way, being officially divorced and freely available for someone more suitable for him to come into his life. I squeezed my eyes shut, then read his words again. What Jones?—you mean if my true love ever comes along? She did, Jones. Just unfortunately, my best friend saw her first.

  My heart slammed against my chest.

  Suddenly it was like I’d been doused with reality. Holy smokes! Adam loves me.

  Like lightening, I jumped out of bed and drove to Adam’s.

  When I got to his house, I banged on his door impatiently, knowing he was asleep, as it was late and all his lights were off, but I needed to talk to him. Now.

  Finally, Adam opened the door. He tilted his head when he saw it was me—the girl that stormed out of his house, and then called in sick because she refused to face him. He flinched his jaw, leaning against the threshold. “You hate me, Jones?”

  “I don’t hate you, Baker,” I said. “I don’t. But I’m mad.”

  His lips quirked. His eyebrows too. Silently, he moved away, letting me in.

  I smiled. “Take off
your clothes and lean over the bed.”

  Note from the authors

  We hope you enjoyed the story.

  Keep reading. There is a romantic novel next. It is titled, “Louder Than Words.”

  Louder Than Words

  by Melanie Marks

  CHAPTER 1

  Furious, I text, “Bring me back my clothes. Now!!”

  I’m in the school’s empty locker room in only a towel, dripping wet. Freezing. And seething.

  My nostrils flaring (probably), I quickly text more, “Blake, I know it was you. I SAW your smug face during swim practice this morning. Bring. Them. Back. NOW!!”

  Only moments later Blake texts back, “I don’t have your clothes, Summer. Try the thousands of other boys whose hearts you broke.”

  I growl, making motions to throw my phone. Only I don’t throw it. ‘Cause it’s my phone.

  Shivering, I cringe realizing this nightmare almost didn’t happen. I almost didn’t come to swim practice this morning. Almost. I was so close to skipping it. ‘Cause practice isn’t mandatory on Fridays. Totally optional. But I’d wanted to show Coach I’m as devoted to swimming as I am to cheerleading. So I came. Then Coach didn’t even show. Nor most of the team. Just a couple of guys.

  So, I’d given myself a pep-talk. ‘At least I’ll have the girl’s locker room all to myself,’ I told angry, tired me.

  Seriously, at least there was that. And I was actually sort of jazzed about it. A little bit. To have the outlets and a mirror all to myself. (Silly, I know, but the rest of the week I have to fight twenty [20!!] other girls for them. Twenty!! All of us trying to get ready for school at the same time. It’s a cutthroat madhouse.)

  So, this morning when I hopped into the locker-room shower, washing the pool’s chlorine out of my hair, I was trying to be all upbeat, thinking: “Well, at least I’ll have the luxury of my very own outlet to plug in my hairdryer.”