First Kiss with the Quarterback (How to Catch a Crush Book 4)

by Maggie Dallen

  It made my whole body feel warm in turn.

  See, now this was confusing. Why did he have such an effect on me when the logical choice for a boyfriend did not?

  I wasn’t going to see West again after tomorrow, most likely. Unless I went to school here, which was a definite possibility, but even so...

  I took a deep breath and tried for calm. “I just wish I could be more...normal,” I said.

  Because he seemed awfully normal. A little odd, yes, but a socially acceptable amount. Overall, he was disarmingly normal.

  Perfect, in fact. Right now he seemed pretty close to perfect.

  “Normal is very overrated,” he said.

  “Says the guy who fits in everywhere,” I muttered.

  He laughed. “You don’t think you fit in?”

  “I know I don’t. I don’t fit in at school or even with my friends and guys...” I looked away in embarrassment. “Well, most guys would probably say I don’t fit in, either.”

  He shifted closer but I didn’t give him a chance to speak because I hadn’t yet made my point. “I guess I just wish I was more normal, or had a more normal quintessential high school experience because then maybe I would be more...in touch with my emotions.”

  There. I said it. And much as I hated the woo-woo term ‘in touch with’ I thought perhaps it was fitting for clarity’s sake.

  West’s silence was unnerving. Then suddenly he was talking and moving as though something had been decided. “Okay, here’s what we’re going to do.”

  I arched my brows and watched him head toward the elevators to jab the up button to take him to his floor. “You go change into something comfortable. When you’re ready, come on up to my room and I’ll be ready with some takeout and our itinerary for the evening.”

  “Our...itinerary?”

  He grinned and the sight of that lopsided smile made my insides do a tango. “You taught me biology, now it’s my turn.”

  I frowned in confusion as the doors opened behind him and he stepped in. “We’re going to have a crash course in the normal high school experience.”

  I laughed at his obvious excitement. “And how are you going to do that? Is there a textbook or something?”

  He shook his head and pressed the button for his floor. “I’ve got something even better.” He leaned back against the wall with a smug grin as the doors started to close. “I’ve got fiction.”

  12

  West

  The choice was simple. I mean, it had to be fiction, right?

  The quintessential high school experience? A normal teenage story? No such thing existed in the real world. That was the stuff of make-believe.

  I sorted through the list of teen movies that the internet had helpfully spit out for me when I’d typed in “quintessential teen movies” and flipped through the streaming channels to see what was available.

  I’d come up with the idea when she was talking about being confused about her feelings. I mean...I got it.

  I wasn’t exactly the world’s most touchy-feely dude. And this thing between us had thrown me for a loop, too. But while she was talking I’d remembered something else she’d said, something about how she’d never understood the point of fiction. How she’d never been to the movies.

  It was perfect—we’d have a movie night. What better way to hang out and spend some time together...in the dark. In my room.

  Yup. I grinned as my buzzer rang letting me know the pizza guy was here. This was the perfect plan.

  A little while later I’d sent Jay out to party, had made Charlotte comfortable in a sea of pillows on my bed, and was dishing out pizza as the movie marathon got underway.

  “So this is John Hughes, huh?” Charlotte asked before taking a bite of her slice.

  I sank down onto the bed beside her. “Ever heard of him?”

  She stiffened beside me even though there were several inches between us. “My friend Simone quotes his movies a lot.”

  “Quotable,” I said. “That’s a good start.”

  We watched the movie in silence for a while. I wasn’t sure where her head was at but personally, I was trying to figure out at what point I could tug her closer so she was in my arms.

  I could be patient. The girl was inexperienced and the last thing I wanted to do was scare her off. Besides...

  This weird warmth spread through me as I snuck a glance at her oh-so-serious profile.

  I had a hunch—or at the very least, a hope—that this was just the beginning. For the first time in my life, I’d found a girl who made me think about the future. From the moment I’d opened my door and seen her standing there in an oversized T-shirt and flannel pajama bottoms, I’d been overwhelmed by this feeling of rightness.

  Like this was where I was meant to be with the person I was meant to be with. Watching her curl up on my bed, looking adorably cozy and comfortable in her pajamas, I wanted this.

  I wanted this all the time. Her, in my life, at my side.

  So I kept that space between us, because I could wait. We had time.

  She looked at me out of the corner of her eye and after a long silence she spoke up. “I’m confused. I’m not sure what’s happening here.”

  I leaned back against the wall. “Well, you see, it’s this girl’s sixteenth birthday, but no one remembers,” I said slowly, as if I was talking to an idiot.

  She laughed. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

  I took a bite of my second slice, my first one having been polished off in a heartbeat. I kept my gaze on the screen in front of us, aware of Charlotte’s eyes on me and the fact that she seemed to be waiting anxiously for my response. “Maybe it’s okay to be confused.”

  She was quiet and when I glanced over she too was staring at the screen, her brows drawn together like she was lost in thought.

  I gestured toward the screen. “I mean, that kind of seems to be the point, right? It’s high school. No one feels like they fit in and everyone is just trying to figure it all out.”

  She nodded slowly. “I suppose.”

  When Sixteen Candles ended, we went right into The Breakfast Club. Charlotte declared herself a new devotee of John Hughes and watched his movies like they might hold the answers to the universe.

  It wasn’t until halfway through the second film that I worked up the nerve to pull her close. She stiffened briefly, but only for a second. When she relaxed against me, something inside of me was at ease, too. Her head on my chest, her body resting against mine...This felt more like home than any home I’d had in years.

  This felt right.

  I stroked her hair and listened to her breathing. I tried not to tense when her hand moved to my leg. She wasn’t trying to get sexy, and I knew that. But the intimacy was intense. That connection that I’d felt with her from the start only grew and thickened, like an invisible cord between us growing more and more real and sturdy with every shared breath.

  I groaned in disappointment when an alarm went off, alerting me to the fact that it was time to perform my lame RA duties and check on the science geeks.

  Well, the science geeks who were not currently cuddled up against me in my bed.

  She tipped her head back to look at me as I turned off the alarm. “We have to go, huh?”

  I nodded. No, I wanted to say. Stay.

  But I wasn’t about to rush this. There was no way I would risk whatever this was by moving too fast. So instead I said, “I’ll walk you to your room.”

  That earned me the cutest little smile and my heart thumped painfully at the sight of it.

  “I had a great time tonight,” she said quietly when we reached her dorm room on the third floor.

  “Me too.”

  She tilted her head back to meet my gaze. “Thank you for the movie night. I get it now.”

  I arched my brows in surprise. “You do?”

  She nodded. “I get the point of fiction. Watching someone else’s emotions makes it easier to decipher our own.”

 
I had to smother a laugh at her serious tone. She’d somehow managed to make tonight’s sweet, romantic, unforgettable date night sound like a boring academic study session.

  But the weird thing was...? I loved that she put it like that. I loved that she was thinking about it. I loved that when I looked down at her right now I could see that fantastic, gorgeous brain of hers working away.

  “Goodnight, West,” she said as she reached for the doorknob behind her. “And thanks.”

  I should have kissed her.

  That was the thought that haunted me the next morning. It was the regret that had me hurrying out of bed even though it was my day to sleep in, and all so I could go to her room and kiss her.

  The way I should have the night before.

  Why hadn’t I?

  I couldn’t even say. I’d frozen, oddly terrified by the enormity of it all.

  It wasn’t every day that I fell for a girl. In fact...this was a first. A brilliant, amazing, and completely terrifying first.

  That, combined with the fact that Charlotte had suddenly seemed in a rush to get into her room and away from me....

  Well, I’d missed my chance.

  I’d walked away from her door and gone through the lame curfew check with this hollow sensation. I’d had half a mind to go back to her room just to kiss her but again...I hadn’t.

  She could have been sleeping, and she might have been annoyed to see me.

  But really, what stopped me was the look in her eyes right before she’d shut the door.

  I’d only seen a flash of it, but it had been there. Regret. Or maybe disappointment.

  Resignation.

  That was probably the word for it.

  Whatever it was, it had left me feeling off. Like maybe I’d misread the situation or maybe she didn’t feel the same.

  This morning, though, I woke up with a new frame of mind. This new frame of mind said I’d been a fool to let her walk away without kissing her goodnight.

  This morning I would right that wrong. I threw on a clean T-shirt and some jeans, brushed my teeth and ran a hand through my bedhead hair. Good enough. I hurried down to her floor and lifted my hand to knock before noticing that it was partially open.

  It swung open suddenly and I jerked back at the sight of Derek the dweeb standing there.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked. I tried to look past him, but he was in my way.

  “I signed out one of your charges. Something you should be doing but apparently the big bad quarterback can’t get himself to rise early on a Sunday.” Derek’s lecture continued but I tuned him out, pushing him out of the way to see with my own eyes.

  She was gone. Her bags, any trace of her was gone.

  “...guess it was too much to ask, huh?” Derek’s bitter tirade continued.

  “When did she leave?”

  Derek blinked. “What?”

  “When. Did. She. Leave?” My voice was a growl as I leaned down, my face in his.

  He stumbled back. “Oh, uh...just a few minutes ago. But—”

  I didn’t listen to whatever else he had to say. I was too busy racing toward the stairwell and down the steps leading to the lobby.

  I burst out into the main hall right as she was opening the glass doors to the street.

  “Wait!”

  She stopped, and that was when I realized Robert was beside her, staring at me in wide-eyed surprise as I raced toward them. She turned and said something to him. He nodded and left while she turned back to me.

  Her expression was all placid resignation as she stepped out of the path to the door so we could speak.

  “Where are you going?” I asked, out of breath from running and my chest freaking splitting in two as it fully dawned on me that this girl had been about to walk out of my life forever without so much as a goodbye.

  “You’re leaving?” I asked.

  She shifted her bag on her shoulder as she nodded. “I need to get back.”

  “And you...” I cleared my throat. “You didn’t think to say goodbye?”

  Her answer was to look away from me.

  Okay then.

  I wanted to be angry but the utter lack of emotions on her face made it hard. Something was up. Something that I suspected had nothing to do with me.

  I shoved my hands into my pockets. “Charlotte, what happened? I thought we had a good time last night.”

  “We did,” she said quickly. “I did.”

  Her gaze didn’t quite meet mine.

  “So...will I see you again?”

  She smiled, soft and sweet, but also just a little sad. “I hope so.”

  The silence grew and stretched until it felt like plastic wrap clinging to my skin. I had so many questions. There were so many things I wanted to say, but I had no idea what was going on in that head of hers.

  “Charlotte, what are you thinking about right now?”

  That had her gaze darting up to meet mine and I felt a jolt when our eyes connected. “Fiction,” she said.

  I frowned. What did that mean? Before I could ask her to elaborate, she hit me with a non sequitur that made my head spin. “My best friend’s name is George.”

  I blinked a few times as I tried to figure out what to do with this info. It was the first time she’d mentioned this George guy and my first instinct was to punch him in the throat. “Should I be jealous of George?” I tried to sound like I was kidding.

  But I wasn’t.

  “George is a turtle,” she continued.

  My mouth opened. Then I shut it because...what on earth was I supposed to say to that? “Um, okay.”

  Genius. That was me.

  She didn’t seem to notice the stupidity of my response. Her brow furrowed and she looked intent. Like she was trying to make something clear, but I had no idea what.

  “My best friend is a turtle,” she said again.

  I nodded. “Okay.” It came out as a question. “And?”

  She licked her lips, her brow coming down in consternation. “You have so many friends, West. You have friends and a family, and even more people who wish they could be your family.” She gave her head a little shake as if to clear her head. “I can’t even imagine how many girls wish they could date you.”

  I was frowning now, too. “So? I want to date you.”

  She didn’t seem to hear me. Her expression was closed off and she started to back away with a shake of her head. “This doesn’t make any sense, West.” She hit the glass doors with her back and scrambled for the door handle behind her. “I’ve got to go.”

  I stood there for what felt like an eternity as I watched the space where she’d fled. As if she might come back. As if I could rewind and change what I’d said, convince her to stay...

  But she wasn’t coming back and I was left to figure out what I could do to make this right.

  Because it wasn’t right.

  Nothing would be right until I had Charlotte back where she belonged—in my life. At my side. As my girl.

  I wanted to be angry. Anger felt justified. I’d kissed her, we’d bonded. I’d told her I wanted to date her and she’d just walked away.

  But instead of anger I felt hurt...on her behalf. Because I knew without a doubt that she felt for me what I felt for her.

  I was more convinced than ever that when it came to Charlotte—I knew her emotions better than she knew them herself.

  The only problem was, how to get through to her?

  I had a flash of a memory. Of how her friends had faced a similar issue and what they’d done about it.

  I rolled my eyes with a sigh, ignoring the people passing by me as I realized what I’d have to do. What it would take to get through to the girl who was smarter than anyone I knew but who couldn’t see what was right in front of her face.

  I pulled my phone out of my back pocket and dialed a number I’d never called before.

  “Hey, West.” Max’s tone was just as confused as mine would have been if my new stepsister had called me out of
the blue. “What’s up?”

  “I’m calling about Charlotte,” I said. “I’m hoping you can do me a favor.”

  “What’s that?”

  I drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I need you to stage another intervention.”

  13

  I didn’t like the way my friends were eyeing me when they gathered around my locker after the last bell on Wednesday.

  Come to think of it, I didn’t particularly like the way they’d gathered at my locker. Period.

  The powers that be had declared the day before Thanksgiving a half day so the day had ended with lunch.

  For the third day in a row I’d suffered through their well-intentioned grilling at the cafeteria table about what had happened between me and Robert, and much more fascinating to everyone except for me—what had happened with me and West.

  “We got cut off at lunch,” Emma said, seemingly believing that would explain my locker on the far side of school was suddenly the new meetup spot for the self-proclaimed Lonely Hearts Club.

  “We weren’t cut off,” I said. “I was done speaking.”

  Emma and Lulu exchanged a look I couldn’t interpret. Simone looked like she was trying not to laugh, Hazel bit her lip and I couldn’t tell if she was concerned or amused. Avery looked alarmingly grim...particularly for Avery.

  But it was Max’s glare that surprised me the most.

  She’d been oddly interested in my kiss with her stepbrother, even though I’d made sure she knew that it didn’t mean anything.

  It couldn’t.

  At first I’d thought her interest was mere curiosity about West, whom she admittedly barely knew, and then I’d chalked it up to some sort of family allegiance when she kept arguing with me on his behalf.

  As if it was a topic worthy of debate.

  It wasn’t.

  There was no question of whether we would someday be a couple. We wouldn’t. So I couldn’t see why it mattered how I felt about him. Or even how he felt about me.

  West might have been kind. Surprisingly sweet, even. But there was no future there for us. Not when we lived in such different worlds.