Текст книги "Love Me"

Автор книги: Jillian Dodd

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“I don’t either. But what if I didn’t get caught? And even if I did, I think if I explained it they would understand. I think I’d get a light sentence. And then I’d be out in a few years for good behavior. And I have money. Why couldn’t I hire the best lawyer and get out of it? At least if I went to jail, I’d know how long I had before it was over. I think that’s what’s killing me. What will I do when I get my life back? B and I made up. Like, we’re talking. Not fighting. And I really loved him, Mom. I really did. And I was so dumb. I tried to change him.”

“Honey, you’re young. You’re going to make mistakes. Boys are a part of that. But they aren’t life-changing mistakes.”

“Like becoming friends with Vincent was?”

“Don’t you dare blame yourself for this. It’s not your fault. Even if you hadn’t become friends, he would’ve been obsessed with you. There were photos from before you met.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

“Keatyn, Gracie is three. She won’t remember if you miss her party. We’ll make sure it’s fun. Just send her a present. And maybe we can do a video chat.”

“I also think I’m lovesick.”

“Lovesick?”

“Yes, one minute I think I should just choose Dawson. The next minute, I think I want to be with Aiden. It was bad enough when it was a sort of love triangle. Now that I’m talking to B again, I realize how much I miss him. Now I’m in a love rectangle. Or a rhombus. Whatever. And it’s making me sick. I even have a sore throat.”

“I wish I was there to take care of you like I did when you were little. Do you remember what we always did?”

“Watched The Little Mermaid and ate popcorn in bed.”

“Let me guess. The last boy you are with is the one that you think you like the most?”

“Yes.”

“That’s because it’s the last thing you felt. You can’t ping pong like that. Someone is going to get hurt. Probably, you.”

“Haven’t you ever been with someone and wondered if you should be with someone else? You practically had sex with your hot costar in To Maddie With Love. You can’t tell me you didn’t feel a thing.”

“My heart didn’t feel a thing. It’s late. You need to get to sleep. I love you.”

“I love you too, Mom . . . Mom?”

“What?”

“Give the girls big hugs for me. Tommy and James too.”

“I will, sweetie. I will.”

I hang up and think.

Maybe she’s right. Maybe it isn’t lovesickness. It’s ping ponging. Which is probably something like motion sickness. Only it causes you to question your feelings. And that makes you feel sick all the time.

Like a never-ending hangover.

That’s what this is.

It’s a hottie hangover.

I also think about what she didn’t say. What her body felt.

I trudge back to my room and try to go to sleep.

My phone lights up the room.

B:  You are always new. The last of your kisses was ever the sweetest; the last smile the brightest, the last movement the gracefullest.  Keats for my Keats. I want to be the last of your everythings. <3

I stare up at the stars glowing on my ceiling and think my head might explode.

Wednesday, October 26th

I’m not perfect.

6:20pm

Today, I am successful with English as my new lover. I study and avoid everyone. I’m in my room studying during dinner when my phone rings.

I smile when I see who’s calling.

“Hey, Damian! How’s Japan?”

“Crazy. Different. It’s been quite the experience. How are you? We haven’t talked since Miami. Your friend, Riley, told you that I called, right?”

“Yeah, he told me. It was so good to see you. To have you sing me a lullaby. I miss that.”

“I didn’t know he would come there. I never thought he would.”

“I didn’t either. Did you hear what he’s doing now? The nationwide search?”

“Yeah, Tommy told me.”

“You’ve been talking to Tommy?”

“He’s coming to Tokyo next week to shoot a commercial. We’re gonna have dinner.”

“That’s great.”

“I talked to Brooklyn too. He told me you two made up.”

“I’m not perfect, Damian.”

Damian laughs. “You just now figuring that out?”

“Kinda. I blamed him for everything that didn’t work between us. A lot of it was my fault too.”

“So do I need to kick his ass?”

That makes me laugh. “You planning on seeing him?”

“Actually, yeah, that’s why I called. He’s in Japan this weekend. Surfing Tahara. Our concert is in Kyoto on Friday. They’re only a couple hours apart.”

“Gracie’s birthday is coming up.”

“I know. I bought her a huge stuffed Hello Kitty. I think she’ll like it.”

“You did? That’s so sweet. Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me. I love Gracie. I mean, who could resist that pout?”

“No one can.” I laugh. “You don’t need to kick B’s ass anymore. Can I ask you a question though?”

“Of course.”

“He says when this is all over that he wants to give us another chance. Do you think I should?”

“I think that all depends on where you are when this is all over. Right now, it being over isn’t looking too good.”

“I know, but I need to hang onto that hope. It’s what gets me through, you know?”

“I know. What did you decide to do for Thanksgiving?”

“I’d like to go to The Crab, if that’s still okay.”

“I’ll let Dad’s assistant know. She’ll make sure everything is ready for you. Will you be there alone?”

“I mentioned it to a friend, but we haven’t talk about it since. So yeah, probably.”

“I hate that you’ll be alone.”

“It’ll be okay. I’m looking forward to it, actually.”

“Well, the jury’s still out on Brooklyn as far as I’m concerned. I’ll let you know if I had to kick his ass or not.”

“Sounds good. Tell him hi for me. And know that I wish I was there with you guys.”

“We’ll wish you were too. Bye, Keats.”

Thursday, October 27th

I’m getting jacked.

English

I let out a huge sigh of relief, walk to the teacher’s desk, and hand in my English test. I’m pretty sure I got a good grade.

Dallas follows me out the door. I look over and realize that I have to look up at him.

“Have you gotten taller?”

“Yeah, a little.”

“You’re taller than me now. No wonder you eat so much.”

He pulls up his Eastbrooke polo sleeve and flexes a surprisingly buff arm at me. “I’m getting jacked too.”

I squeeze his bicep. “Damn. You are.”

“Oh, hey, there’s the love god stalking you. See ya, Kiki.”

“So, how was the test?” Aiden asks me.

“How do you know my schedule?”

“I think you told me.”

“I don’t remember telling you,” I tease.

“Fine. Dallas told me.”

I raise my eyebrows at him. “So you were talking about me, huh?”

He shakes his head as his big hand cups my waist. “Maybe a little.”

Electricity runs through my blood, energizing me more than a Red Bull. I was tired, but now I’m wide awake, my heart racing.

“So?” He gives my waist a little tickle.

I giggle and move my away, even though I don’t really want him to stop touching me.

“I think I did well. English has always been my best subject, but I forgot to study for a test the night I missed curfew, when we were dancing, and I totally bombed it. Like, I got a 37. It killed my grade.”

“So it’s my fault?”

I smile. “Well, now that you mention it, I think it is.”

“Have lunch with me today?”

“Sure.”

“Cool,” he says. “I need to stop in the office real quick. Meet me there?”

I tell him okay, then get a text from Dawson.

Dawson:  You done with the boy-free zone yet? 

Me:  Yes :) Test is OVER!

Dawson:  I miss you :(

Me:  And you’re horny?

Dawson:  Very. You don’t want me wandering around school all horny and lonely, do you?

Me:  I could have sex with you every minute of every day, and you’d still be horny. You’re a boy. And even worse, you’re a Johnson. I’ve been hearing about Cam’s exploits last year in the dance locker room. 

Dawson:  You know I’m not like him. Go to the JV game with me tonight. I’ll bring a big sweatshirt ;)

Me:  I have rehearsal. 

Dawson:  Sit with me at lunch?

Me:  Aiden already asked me to. 

Dawson:  That pisses me off.

Me:  Would you prefer I have lunch with you and start having sex with him?

Dawson:  Good point.

I get some food then sit down next to Dallas. A few minutes later, Aiden joins us.

“You coming to watch the JV game tonight?” Riley asks me.

“I can’t. I have rehearsal.”

“Shoot. Forgot about that. When do you have it this weekend?”

“Early Saturday morning and then Sunday night.”

“Perfect. You’re coming home with me.”

“What for?”

“Saturday is my birthday.”

“Really? I didn’t know that!”

“You know now.”

“Is Ariela coming too?”

“No, she has that cheer competition. Sucks. Dawson and I have to go home with our parents after the game on Friday. Maybe you could take the train after practice?”

“Of course. I wouldn’t miss it.”

“I’ll wait and come with her,” Dallas offers.

I pat his forearm and lean my head into the side of his. “That’s sweet,” I tell him.

“I have plans Friday night,” he whispers.

I roll my eyes at him. Then I glance at Aiden.

He doesn’t look happy. And I’m not sure why.

But as we walk together to French, he doesn’t say a word to me.

Not my fault.

8:30pm

I come off the stage after doing one of my scenes and look around for Aiden.

“I don’t think he’s coming,” Logan says to me.

“Why not?”

“Where are you going this weekend?”

“Riley’s birthday party.”

“At Dawson’s house.”

“That’s not my fault.”

“You’re driving him nuts.”

“Yeah, well, it’s only fair. He drives me nuts. All his sex quizzes and the hammering, nailing, and screwing. And how am I supposed to concentrate in French class with him always breathing on my neck and whispering in my ear?”

Logan grins at me.

“What?”

“You really like him.”

“Don’t you have to get on stage or something?”

Friday, October 28th

Make it up to me.

2:57pm

Dawson texts me right before school’s out.

Dawson:  Meet me by the field house. I need to talk to you for a second before I leave for the game. 

I walk down to the field house and find Dawson standing outside waiting for me. He pulls me into a big kiss, right as Aiden walks out of the door.

I see Aiden literally recoil.

I smack Dawson’s shoulder. “You wanted him to see us kiss, didn’t you?”

Dawson smiles. “Who, me? I just wanted to kiss my girl before I get on the bus. Nothing wrong with that.”

“What’s wrong with that is I’m not your girl.”

“It’s also our anniversary. One month since I asked you out.”

“We can’t have an anniversary when we’re not going out, Dawson. You can’t have your cake and eat it too.”

I’m pissed.

But as I march away, I realize that I’m no better than he is. I’ve been wanting the same thing.

I pack up my dance bag, darken my makeup, and change into tonight’s game outfit.

Then I sit down and text Aiden.

Me:  I’m sorry about that. I’ve got so much on my mind and he just . . . I’m sorry, okay?

Hottie God:  Sorry you did it, or sorry I saw?

Me:  Both.

Hottie God:  Not sorry enough to stop kissing him.

Me:  I’m sorry!

Hottie God:  I don’t think it’s enough :)

Me:  Why the smiley face?

Hottie God:  You’re going to make it up to me. 

Me:  And how am I supposed to do that?

Hottie God:  The list is going to be long.

Me:  I can handle it.

Hottie God:  My demands: #1. Sit next to me on the ride home.

Me:  Fine.

Hottie God:  #2. Hang out with me tonight. Late.

Me:  Done.

Hottie God:  3. Don’t go to Riley’s.

Me:  I have to. It’s his birthday. 

Hottie God:  So that’s the only reason you’re going? Shit. Never mind. I don’t want to compare the relationship. Regardless of what’s going on with you and Dawson, we’re taking it slow and going at our own pace. 

Me:  We’re teenagers, aren’t we supposed to fall head over heels in love? 

Hottie God:  I did that 8 times last year. None of them worked. I’m trying a different approach.

Me:  Uh, okay. So any other demands?

Hottie God:  Yes. #4. Points for dances tonight. 

Me:  Deal :) And Aiden . . .  I have a demand.

Hottie God:  What? I’m in the position of power here, not you. You don’t get demands.

Me:  I’m not much for following rules ;)

Hottie God:  No shit. What’s your demand?

Me:  Naw, I guess you’re right, I should play fair.

Hottie God:  Tell me.

Me:  Naaaaaw. Never mind.

Hottie God:  Boots, NOW!

Me:  Don’t tell me what to do.

Hottie God:  Fine. Don’t tell me. Then I won’t have to do it. I didn’t want to anyway.

Shit. What just happened? He was supposed to beg me to know.

Me:  Okay, then I won’t tell you that my demand was that you score a lot of points. For me. Just for me. So you can dance with me. Hold me tight. But that’s okay. You don’t want to. Never mind.

Hottie God:  You are difficult to negotiate with, do you know that?

Me:  That depends. Are you giving in to my demand?

 

Hottie God:  Absolutely.  

Me:  I like getting my way :)

Hottie God:  Yeah, I know.  

Me:  I’m sending you a mental four-leaf clover. Good luck tonight, Aiden.

Hottie God:  I gotta go now. I have a pre-game ritual I need to follow. It helps me concentrate. See you after the game :)

Over and over again.

11:15pm

I’m sitting with Aiden in the very back of one of the buses. Since Dawson went home with his parents after the game, I didn’t have to worry about any drama. On the way to the games, the football team, band, cheerleaders, and spirit squad, all have to ride in different buses. Mostly because the football team always leaves before the rest of us, so they can warm up. After the game, we all leave at the same time, so it gets all mixed up.

“So, we need to talk about sex.” Aiden says.

“You wanna talk dirty?” I tease, hoping to avoid this subject. Because I know sex isn’t what he wants to talk about. He wants to talk about my sex with Dawson.

“Maybe later.”

“So, you had a good night,” I tell him. Please let him be distracted. Please.

“It doesn’t help the team when the quarterback won’t throw to a guy that’s wide open.”

“Do you think that was on purpose?”

“Hell, yeah, it was on purpose. Add to that his two interceptions. We’re lucky that we got down close enough for me to kick all those field goals.”

“Five goals. Fifteen points and a win. Although, that’s not very many dances.”

Aiden runs his finger across my palm.

I move to kiss him.

“Ow!” I say, as he reacts to my sudden movement by bumping his head hard into mine.

“Damn, Boots, I managed to get through the game without a scratch. Now you give me a concussion while I’m on the bus.”

I lean back, holding my eyebrow and studying him. “I’m sorry.”

He gently pulls my hand away from my eyebrow, leans in, and kisses it. Right on top of the big ugly bump I can feel forming.

I think he felt it with his lips because he moves his face away and gently runs his finger across the top of it. “I’m just teasing you. I’m fine, but your eyebrow is swelling up. Let me get something.”

He slides out of our seat, walks carefully up the aisle to the front of the bus, grabs a couple of water bottles out of a cooler, and walks back.

He holds the cold bottle against my eyebrow.

“I think the kiss worked better,” I murmur, holding my breath, and hoping he will kiss me.

He moves the bottle away and examines my brow. “You might be right.”

I breathe out right before he leans in and kisses me. Not on the eyebrow, but on my lips.

I don’t even remember anything else from the long bus ride back to school. There was nothing but feeling Aiden’s hand holding mine. Feeling his perfect lips touch mine. Over and over again.

By the time we get back to school, it’s past curfew, so he just tells me good night as Katie and I head to our dorm.

Katie sits on her bed, bouncing slightly. “I had so much fun tonight.”

“You sat by Bryce.”

“I know. He’s seriously the nicest boy I’ve ever met. We talked and talked and talked. I don’t even know what all we talked about, but there was never a lull. Or those awkward silences when you don’t know what to say. One time, he accidentally brushed my hand. And I got these goosebumps all the way up my arm. I really like him. We have to go to the party tonight.”

“The party? I didn’t know there was a party.”

“Sure there is. Aiden and Bryce’s rooms. Like always.”

“Oh.”

“Why do you seem upset? You like to party.”

I put on a fake smile. “I do, but Aiden didn’t mention a party.”

She frowns. “But you sat next to him the whole way home. Didn’t he ask you to come?”

“No,” I say.

We agreed to points for dances. And now he’s having a party? Did he change his mind?

“Are you going?”

“Probably not. I’m tired. I have rehearsal early and then I have to catch the train to go to Riley’s.”

Her phone buzzes with a text. She smiles. “It’s Bryce.”

I go in my closet, feeling like I want to cry.

Instead, I focus on my clothes. When I’m finished packing, Katie is going out the window.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come?”

“Yeah, I’m sure. I’m going to bed.”

I throw on my pajamas and lie down in bed.

My phone buzzes, but I ignore it. I don’t want to know. I don’t want to hear some lame excuse for why there’s a party in his room. Why he decided not to dance with me.

A few minutes later, there’s a knock on my window. I cover my head with my sheet and pretend not to hear.

My window opens and Aiden pulls the sheet off my face.

“Why didn’t you answer your phone or come to the window when I knocked?”

“Maybe I was asleep,” I reply coolly.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong. I need to sleep and you should probably get back to your party.”

He sits on my bed, sighs, and runs his fingers through his hair.

I hate when he does that. It makes him look even cuter.

“I didn’t know about the party. Everyone just assumed.”

“Whatever.”

“I want to dance with you.”

“Not enough. I’m going to sleep. You can let yourself out.” I pull the sheet over my head.

He pulls the sheet back down. “Is there any reason why we can’t dance here?”

“I’m in my pajamas.”

“I’m okay with that. Did you notice that when I got your phone out of jail I put our 29-song playlist on it?”

“You did?”

“Yeah. So, we’re alone. We have music.” He looks up at my ceiling. “We even have stars. Please?”

I let out a huff. “You aren’t going to let me go to sleep if I don’t, are you?”

He gives me an adorable grin. “Nope.”

“Fine.”

He grabs my phone, pulls up a playlist I didn’t know I had, turns the volume on really low, and pulls me into his arms.

I try to be stiff at first. But I dissolve into a pile of mush any time he touches me.

He puts his forehead gently against mine and sways with me.

After a couple songs, he says, “So, Boots, I was wondering if you would be my escort for the Compass Cup. Wear my jersey. Walk me out on the field. Go to the banquet with me. Be my lucky charm?”

I get a pained look on my face. Shit. “Um . . .”

“Dawson already asked you, didn’t he?”

“Yeah, but he said it was just for seniors.”

Aiden purses his lips. “I’m sure he knew it’s for varsity starters, just like it is every year.”

“I don’t know . . .” I start to say.

He closes his eyes tightly then glances at my phone. “Yeah. Hey, I better get back to my room. Make sure it’s not getting trashed.”

“Dawson didn’t ask me to go to the banquet with him. I could be your date for that.”

 He pats me on the back and says, “Uh, yeah, sure. See ya later, Boots.”

Then he bounds out my window.

And he didn’t even let me finish my frickin’ sentence. I was going to say, I don’t know, it’s hard since I already said yes, but I want to wear your jersey.

Because I do want to wear Aiden’s jersey. I would die to wear it.

Every time I think we might have a breakthrough, it ends like this.

And this sucks.

Saturday, October 29th

Mentally unstable.

11am

Dallas and I are on the train.

“Did you have fun last night?”

Dallas grins like a cat that ate the canary. “I did.”

“With which girl?”

“Chelsea.”

“You seem like you’re kinda into her. In more than just a hooking up kind of way.”

“Naw. We’re having fun. I’m still talking to other girls. Not ready to make a choice yet.”

“Oh, so why is that okay for you? But you keep telling me that dating more than one guy isn’t going to work.”

“Because my heart isn’t involved. Yours is.”

“Maybe I don’t want my heart involved.”

“But it is. You like Aiden. You’re afraid, though. And that’s understandable. You fall in love, you get hurt. It makes it hard to fall again. You should stop fighting it. Decide if you want to go for love or settle for hot sex.”

“Are you settling for hot sex?”

“Absolutely.”

“I’m not sure I would consider Dawson settling. He’s sweet.”

“Was the I heart hotel bath time with Keatie post sweet?”

“He says it was, but I’m pretty sure he did it on purpose.”

“I know he did it on purpose. He wants Aiden out of the picture.”

“Aiden’s mad at me again.”

“Why?”

“Last night he asked me to be his escort for the Compass Cup, wear his jersey, and be his date for the banquet. But I had to tell him that I had already agreed to wear Dawson’s. But since Dawson only asked me to wear his jersey and not go to the banquet, I told Aiden I’d go with him.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me. Did he agree to that?”

“Sorta. I mean, he said yes, but then right away he said he had to go check on his room. And he didn’t kiss me goodbye, which means he was mad. Which pisses me off because he didn’t let me tell him that I didn’t know about all that stuff. Dawson told me it was just for seniors. I figured it was no big deal since Aiden’s not one.”

“So Dawson lied.”

“I don’t think he lied. He probably thought it was just seniors.”

“I wasn’t even here last year and I know that it’s not.”

“I don’t know, then.”

“Whatever. I’m gonna take a nap.”

He falls asleep quickly.

I grab my phone out of my purse and type How to choose between two guys into Google.

I’ve heard that Google searches are how the NSA and CIA and all those federal organizations track people. They supposedly create major profiles on each one of us. Because, apparently, what we search can tell them a lot about us.

So now, more than likely, what I just typed is currently on a screen at the NSA. Agents are huddling around some dude’s computer laughing at me and saying, Did you see what she just typed? They’ll mark my profile as mentally unstable and if I fly commercial, I’ll probably get strip-searched and have my shoes confiscated.

I breeze through a few articles anyway.

On one blog I find something interesting way down in the comments. A girl asked if she should choose the guy that is in love with her, or the guy she’s in love with. Which is an interesting way to put it. Unfortunately, the people that replied to her question were very mixed on who she should chose—which is not much help.

Then I find a Cosmo article. Cosmo is like a relationship bible. Like Vogue is for fashion. This article makes me feel lots better. It says that it’s okay to date more than one guy at a time and that if you can’t choose, it’s probably because you’re not ready to choose.

And I think Cosmo is right.

I’m not ready to chose.

My phone vibrates in my hand. It’s Cooper.

Oh, shit. I forgot to press the button when we left campus.

“Since you answered, I’m assuming you haven’t been kidnapped?”

“That’s correct. Sorry. I forgot to press the button thing when I left.”

“Where the hell are you? Actually, don’t answer that. I already know. You are moving quickly, probably by train, about 20 miles from here. Garrett just called and told me that. Yelled at me because I didn’t know where you were.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I’m on the train with Dallas. We’re going to New York City. It’s Riley’s birthday, so I’m going to stay at his house.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because you’re not my keeper.”

“The hell I’m not, Keatyn. You can’t just leave without telling me. Shit. Excuse me just a minute.”

I hear a chair scratch across the floor and Cooper say, “Miss Clarke, can I help you?”

 I hear her reply. “I just came to see if you wanted to hang out today. Maybe go see a movie. Have a drink. I’m bored.”

“You’re not old enough to drink and I’m busy. Goodbye.”

Then I hear a door shut. “You need to check in with me always or you won’t be going anywhere without me again. We clear?”

“I’m sorry. I’ve got a lot on my mind.”

“Boys are the least of your problems.”

“Thank you for reminding me,” I say sarcastically. “You know what? I’m not coming back until Sunday. Why don’t you take a couple days off.” Then I say “go get laid” under my breath.

“I heard that.”

“Maybe I wanted you to hear that.”

“I was planning to take you to the gun range today.”

“You should go yourself. Practice.”

“When you’re done with the play, we’re getting serious about your training, understand?” he says gruffly.

“Yeah, I understand.”

Dawson meets us at the door and carries my bag up the stairs. He stops at a door and says, “This is my room.”

“It looks perfect, not like your room at school.”

“Ha, yeah. I'm rarely here. I'm either at school or at the beach. I'd live at the beach all day, every day if I could.”

“Yeah, me too. I bet you’d like California’s beaches. The waves get big. The sunsets are amazing.”

“Think me and your ex would get along?”

“I don’t know. Probably. He's pretty chill most the time. Smokes a lot. Well, he used to.”

“Did you do that with him a lot?”

“I didn’t think so at the time but looking back, we did a lot.”

“Have you talked to him lately?”

“Actually, I did last week. I realized that he’s my root. He apologized for the cabana thing. Explained it.”

“Root?”

“Root of my problem. I thought that everything went back to him. But I realized that everything goes back to me and how I react when something happens.”

He gives me his sexiest grin, pulls me inside his room, and locks the door. “People do make mistakes, you know. You're about to make one right now.”

“I am?”

He unzips the back of my dress. It falls to the floor. Thank goodness I wore good underwear. I almost didn't, just so I wouldn't do this.

Not that it would have stopped him.

He stands back and stares at my black and white polka dot bra and panties. “That’s so sexy. Did you wear that just for me?”

“I was gonna wear something ugly, so I would be too embarrassed to let you see.”

He strips off my bra, pushes me on his bed, and kisses my stomach. “You didn’t want to do this?”

Riley pounds on the door.

“Text him,” Dawson says, unzipping his pants. “We’re gonna need a minute.”

I try to text Riley. But what am I supposed to say? That he’s giving me a tour of his room?

Me:  Busy. Stall, please.

I drop my phone to the floor as Dawson kisses me.

Riley bangs on the door a few minutes later as I’m putting my dress back on. “Time to party!” he yells.

“I was wrong,” Dawson says. “No way that was a mistake.”

“Maybe it was one of those good mistakes. Like when you pay for a single dip cone, but you get a double.”

“I think you are going to have a good-mistake-laden weekend.”

“Do you think this is skanky of me? Doing it with you when I’m seeing you both?”

He tilts his head at me. “We don't have to if you don't want to. I'm sorry I unzipped your dress.”

“You don’t look very sorry.”

He chuckles. “Yeah, I’m not really.”

“Dawson, you know how you asked me to wear your jersey for the game on Friday?”

“Yeah.”

“You told me it was for seniors only. It’s for varsity starters.”

“Yeah, I know. I got it confused with Senior night. It’s coming up too.”

“Aiden asked me to the banquet. I told him yes.”

“So you’re wearing my shirt, escorting me onto the field, but you’re going to the banquet afterwards with him?”

“Yeah.”

“You can’t. That’s not the tradition.”

“You got the tradition wrong and you’ve been to the banquet for the last three years. I’m new. How would I know what the tradition is?”

He squints his eyes at me. I can tell he wants to argue, but if he does, he knows he’ll sound like a liar.

Instead, he says, “Whatever.”

Does he make you hot?

1am

We have fun celebrating Riley’s birthday. We start with dinner at a sports bar he loves, where he gets his photo taken with the scantily clad waitresses. Then we have a very competitive bowling tournament, which the birthday boy wins. Then back to their house for cake and ice cream. It’s really fun and not at all what I expected. Apparently, he’s been having the same party since he was twelve.

I’m lying in Dawson’s bed, having just finished my second mistake of the day.

“I was talking to my dad about love last night. He says that love isn’t always an instant thing. That sometimes it grows. He says that trust is the most important thing. I trust you probably more than anyone else. And seriously, Keatie, I can't imagine it being better than this. Can you?”

“I don't know. I think it probably feels pretty good with everyone. Just different.”

He runs a finger across my stomach. “Pretty good, yes. Amazing, no. But we have all night. I’m going to have to prove it to you.”

“How are you going to do that?”

Dawson runs his tongue slowly across my collarbone. "Maybe I should torture you with my tongue."

I laugh. "Riley threatened to do that the first time we hung out."

“Well, ya know, us Johnson boys, we got it going on.”

He runs his tongue down my side. It tickles. I pull away slightly, but he does it again, slower. It tickles even more and makes me really horny.

He looks up lazily at me. Rolls on top of me. I can feel that bigness against my skin. Usually as soon as he's hard again, he'd be in me, so I’m surprised when he continues with his tongue.

Up the middle of my stomach, up my neck, under my chin, and to my lips. I have my hips raised up to him. I even reach for it.

He goes, “Un uh, not yet. I want you crazy for me.”

And I do about go crazy while he tortures me with his tongue. And now I know why it’s torture. He's using his tongue everywhere but where I want it to be. Mostly, he’s been running it down my stomach, up the insides of my thighs, and just when I'm thinking, finally, he stops and kisses up my sides again.

I let out a sad little sigh.

He grins at me. Continues.

“Dawes, oh my god, please.”

He barely gets his fingers inside me, and I'm moaning, apparently a little too loudly because he tosses a pillow on top of my head. I grab it and moan into it. I've never been loud like this before. Honestly, it’s never felt like this before.

“Oh, that felt so good,” I say breathlessly as he pulls the pillow off my face, kisses me deeply, and pulls my legs around his waist.

And then I need the pillow again.

The bed is creaking. He's tightly holding my hips and slamming into me. Like, way harder than he ever has before, and oh my god.

And when I say oh my god, it is literally a prayer of thanks.

But then just when I think he's going to finish, he slows way down, and then pretty much stops.

"What's wrong? I ask.

He leans down and whispers, “I don't want to be done yet."

"Can you do that?"