“Yeah, that’s definitely what you’d be saying.”
She smacks my arm, her pretty face now beet red, and all I can do is laugh.
“I hate you,” she mouths, and I offer her a cheeky grin.
“You look really pretty, Hellcat. Not sure I’m going to be able to be social with anyone but you,” I tell her truthfully, continuing to whisper in her ear, even though Eastlyn isn’t paying us the slightest bit of attention.
“Keat.” She says my name softly, then looks up at me, giving me a breath-stealing smile, my favourite one of her many types of smiles. It’s the one I know is reserved for when she’s especially happy. “Always so smooth. No wonder you get all the girls,” she teases, not realizing what hearing her say that does to me. I don’t want all the girls, I want the girl. I shake it off when I hear my sister’s loud voice.
“McCoy, what are you doing here?”
“Uh-oh,” Kam whispers. Both of us watch Eastlyn and McCoy like they’re actors in a riveting movie.
“Trivia. Heard you needed another player, and I’m here to help fill that need. Like I said on the last day of school when we were talking in your classroom, I excel at it,” Coy says, obviously trying to be quiet yet doing a crappy job at it.
They banter back and forth, and I’m thankful for the distraction from my feelings.
“Oh, wow.” I hear Kam take a breath. “Shit just got real,” she says, giving me her wide amber eyes in a “Did you hear that?” look.
“My money’s on McCoy,” I jab.
“No way. Your sister is a friggin’ fortress. He’s going to need an arsenal to break those walls down,” Kam challenges, and I nod because really, she’s right.
“He’s not going to give up,” I share, as we watch my sister and McCoy exchange a few more words and glares before settling in amicably.
“I hope he doesn’t. They kind of deserve each other. It’s been a long time coming, too. I think they’d be perfect together. I’ve always thought it,” Kami says, and I want to tell her how I think we’d be perfect, how we’ve been a long time coming, and that I can’t wait anymore. But I don’t say anything. Instead I swallow the words. We’re still recovering from the Holly incident and I’ve already pushed her here and there over the past few weeks. I need to wait her out a little longer, so the ball’s still in her court.
“I hope you brought your A game, boys,” Eastlyn says, once she takes the quiz book from Jenn the Quiztress when she passes them to us and lets us know we’ll be starting in five minutes.
“No shit,” I add, looking around the pub. “We’ve got the smallest team tonight.”
“Piece of cake,” Kami says, waving the comment off and making me smile because she is literally the worst trivia player in the world. She’s always too busy talking and getting distracted.
“Oh yeah? You’ve been brushing up on your footy facts again, have you?” I tease Kami while McCoy is saying something to Eastlyn.
Kami shakes her head “no”. “East and I have been having some brainfood,” she giggles, then makes a very attractive slurping sound with her straw. It echoes loudly from inside the large bowl.
“What the hell is that, anyway?” I ask, pulling the straw away from Kami—despite her laughing protests—and take a drawn-out sip. “Jesus Christ, that shit’s fucking horrible,” I belt out, making both girls laugh.
“Good. More for me.” Kam bumps my shoulder and our eyes catch. She licks her lips, and I want to pull her to me and kiss her so hard the thought nearly kills me.
“Welcome to PubStumpers…” Jenn’s excited voice comes over the speaker system and I welcome the distraction to keep my attention from straying back to the girl beside me.
As the game and the night moves along, I can tell we’re all having fun. Even Eastlyn and McCoy seem to be getting along, laughing, and carrying on. Our team is actually doing really well, too.
“Last question. We got this, guys,” Kam pipes up from beside me, just as Jenn is about to read the final question in Round One.
“Such a good cheerleader.” I wrap my arm around her shoulders, pulling her in closer. She doesn’t make a move to budge, so I keep her there.
“What secular holiday—celebrated on December 23rd—was introduced in a popular TV sitcom and includes the ‘Airing of Grievances’?” Jenn asks.
“I feel like I should know this,” Kami says into my ear. “It’s on the tip of my tongue. Dammit.”
“I’m sure it’s in that big brain of yours somewhere,” I tease her, and she pulls away to smack my shoulder. I catch her hand, then fold it into mine. She leans back against the booth, but leaves her hand in mine.
Once again our attention swings across the table. My sister is staring up at McCoy like he hung the moon or something, and McCoy’s wearing a shit-eating grin while he gives us the answer. “The answer’s ‘Festivus’.”
“Sorry…what?” Eastlyn asks.
Kam and I laugh out loud when my sister arrives back down to earth.
“See they’re adorable,” Kami smiles, her eyes not drifting from my sister and my best friend.
You’re what’s adorable, Kami Sutherland.
“The answer, Sprinkles. It’s ‘Festivus’.”
“Yes! ‘A Festivus for the rest of us!’” Kami shrieks, quoting Frank Costanza’s famous line from Seinfeld and causing everyone to laugh.
“Have another swig, there, babe,” I say, laughing, and pull her in even closer, tucking her into my side, where I keep her—and she willingly stays—for the rest of the night.
A guy could definitely get used to having a girl like her by his side, especially if that guy is me, and that girl is Kami.
33
You’re a Steamroller, Wish I Could Be
Kami
The summer has flown. I can’t believe it’s already the last week in August, since with that comes the start of the new school year next week. I’m going to miss nights like these, nights just hanging out, meeting Eastlyn for dinner, drinking “Fishbowls” together, playing trivia…all the while knowing we can sleep it off until whatever time we like in the morning.
Not ready to crash just yet, I think back to earlier tonight. I’d almost choked on the red gummy fish that I’d angled out of my big blue drink when I saw the look of shock on Eastlyn’s face when Keaton showed up to trivia dragging McCoy behind him. My wish had come true! I had just finished teasing Eastlyn only seconds before that maybe Keaton would bring McCoy along, and sure enough, he did.
Afterwards, I couldn’t stop watching the two of them interact. It was like watching a pilot episode for a soon-to-be hit show. I was hooked. Well, until Keaton sat down right next to me, anyway, stealing all of my attention as if it were May Sweeps Week and his programming was so much better.
It was a good night. Everyone got along, meaning Eastlyn didn’t murder McCoy, Keaton was flirty, and our trivia team of four came in second place in the night’s contest. As well, Eastlyn—true to her word—didn’t bug me about my reasons for coming home early from PEI, or pester me to tell her what’s going on with me and Keat. A part of me had expected one of her usual full-on interrogation sessions. It’s the Hatfield way, after all. A part of me wonders if being around McCoy this summer has helped my best friend to be a little distracted from worrying so much about me and her brother.
Leaning against my headboard, I reach for my phone, wanting to make sure my bestie knows she did good tonight.
Me: BTW, thanks for mostly holding up our deal and not prying too much. And for not killing your brother.
Her reply comes within a minute.
Eastlyn: I told you I’d try hard. I only poked a little. You’ll tell me everything when you’re ready. All I know is that you came home from PEI early, obviously put yourself out there, and things didn’t go the best. And I’ve been such a good girl about it for weeks now!!!
Me: I promise I’ll tell all someday. And yeah, it was something like that. And surprisingly you have been such a good girl at
minding her own business. I am a #proudandshockedbff and, trust me, that man is hooked on you!
Eastlyn: Ha ha. Well, whatever is going on, Keaton cares for you a lot, it’s so obvious. You guys are really sorta perfect for each other. Adorable tonight. I get it, though. I have my own confusion and torment happening right now so it’s helping me to back off you.
“I knew it!” I laugh.
Me: I need to thank Coy!! LOL! Don’t kill me but Keat and I were thinking the same about you and McCoy. We both think he really likes you, East. Like A LOT, a lot.
East: He confuses me.
Me: Welcome to the club, sister.
Eastlyn: “I’m not only a client, I’m also the president.”
I laugh out loud at her quoting the old commercial for the Hair Club for Men.
Me: I love you. Thanks for being you. Shit will work out.
Eastlyn: You mean I’ll experience new hair growth, restoring my formerly youthful look?
Me: Yes! Exactly!
Eastlyn: *rolls eyes* ’Night.
I put down my phone and exchange it for my Kindle, opening up the newest romance novel I’d downloaded today. East and Bev had both bragged about devouring it, and told me I had to read it. Some office romance where the guy bends his secretary over his desk and makes her sing.
“I always look for the G-spot, and with gusto.” Keaton’s words from earlier pop into my mind, and I wonder what that would feel like, having Keaton Hatfield going at me with “gusto”? I feel my stomach dip, and an ache starts between my legs, remembering how he had felt pressed in between them on the table at the kitchen store.
I shoot him a text, suddenly feeling I need the distraction, or maybe I just want to talk to him, to feel close to him in some way.
Me: Thanks for the ride. Tonight was actually fun.
His response comes a few minutes later.
Keaton: Sorry I couldn’t come in. Wish I hadn’t offered to drive Coy. Wouldn’t have if I’d known I was going to drive you.
Me: That’s okay. I still enjoyed the ride. I like it when you drive me.
Keaton: I like it when you talk dirty to me.
I wait a second, feeling a rush of giddiness, before replying. I pretend I’m obtuse.
Me: You’re hopeless. I didn’t even say anything!
Keaton: It’s the visual words like those give me. Think of it as word association. Ride. Drive. There are a lot of words you say that do that.
Me: Oh god. SMH.
Keaton: You don’t have to call me God. It’ll be “Oh, Keaton.”
I type before I let myself think better of it.
Me: Think you’re that good, eh?
Keaton: For Chrissakes.
Oh my god, who am I right now?
Me: No, it’s “Kamilla”, not Christ, and you’ll be shouting it.
Keaton: Enough, Kam. You can’t text shit like this to me.
Me: Why not?
Keaton: Makes me wanna do stupid shit.
Me: Stupid shit to me?
Keaton: Especially stupid shit to you.
Me: Tell me.
I’m pushing him. We’re still in a somewhat uncertain spot about where we’re heading relationship-wise, because we really haven’t sat and talked it all out yet. And we definitely will need to soon. In the meantime, it seems we’re implementing a new tactic: pushing each other a little more each time, egging each other on, each hoping the other is the first to cave.
Keaton: Kami, please.
I decide to let it go.
Me: All right, all right, Dud Muffin…
Keaton: I’ll show you what a dud muffin I am.
Yes, please!! Show me!!! I want to type, but don’t. Keaton’s right, we need to stop.
Me: Okay, we’re stopping.
I switch topics.
Me: You’re lucky East didn’t kill you tonight (or rip your balls off). Bringing Coy = risky.
Keaton: Babe. You know I love it when you talk all sexy and protective like that.
Me: No clue how that’s sexy, plus I thought we were stopping?
Keaton: First, you talking about my balls in any way is sexy. Caring about them makes you such a good friend. Second, not sure I’ll ever be able to stop.
Me: Of course you’d see it that way.
I laugh, he’s just so Keaton. His ability to take any innocent conversation and turn it sexual instantly never fails to amaze or entertain me.
Keaton: Friends worry about that stuff.
Ha, now it’s my turn.
Me: Oh really? You worry about my bits?
I’m already feeling on edge, so not sure seeing his response will help.
Me: Forget it. I don’t want to know.
As I send my second text, his response comes in at the same time.
Keaton: Good. Wasn’t gonna tell you. Don’t worry. Your bits will always be safe in my hands.
Me: Keaton!! You can’t say shit like that!
Keaton: Why not?
Me: Because. It’s not friend-like.
Keaton: True. It’s more of a best friend thing.
Me: I knew it!!! I knew your and Coy’s bromance game was too strong! Glad you’re taking care of his bits.
I kill myself laughing, imagining his face.
Keaton: Watch it, Hellcat, or I’ll have to prove my devotion to our friendship.
I feel that everywhere. I do need to stop this line of conversation for the night, so I bring us back to his sister and McCoy.
Me: They’re cute together. I hope they can figure things out.
We’re cute together and I need to sort us out, I want to add, but of course I don’t.
Keaton: Yeah, they’re something, all right. My sister just needs to get out of her own way.
Me: Seems like a Hatfield trait.
Keaton: Careful, Kam, I can be a steamroller when I need to be.
I read his last message over a few times, hoping so badly he means it in reference to me. Wanting to move things along, I almost ask but then chicken out and let it go. I know he’s leaving things up to me.
It’s just that I’m not so sure how to get my own self out of the way.
34
When You Put It like That
Kami
The bell above the door chimes, signalling my arrival. I smile, seeing Becks behind the counter. She’s already shaking her head in my direction, her purple-hued bangs falling over her face like they have all twenty-seven times before.
“Girl, you have got to be out of your mind,” Becks chortles.
“It’s worth a shot, right?”
“He’s going to wring your neck.”
“Maybe, but one of these days he’s going to give in. I can feel it.”
“I think you need to get in better touch with your gut instincts. Yours seem to have gone to shit,” Becks says.
“Today could be it. No calls!” I wave my phone in the air, happy to report that Keaton hasn’t texted or called to cancel my appointment like he has so many times before.
“Don’t get too excited. I have a feeling the big goon’s new tactic is making you come all the way down here and wasting your time. You know Keat and his love of tit for tat.”
I roll my eyes, because she isn’t wrong, and I start to worry my lip.
“Let me guess? You’re ‘Allison Reynolds’. His four o’clock?”
“That’s me. There’s no way he’ll remember Ally Sheedy’s character’s name,” I clap, then look around quickly to make sure I haven’t alerted the beast.
“Okay, well, he’s finishing up another job, so…so far, so good?” Becks shrugs. “You might have him this time. Let’s get the paperwork done,” she grins, passing me an iPad. “I loved The Breakfast Club.”
“So did my sisters and me and Eastlyn.”
We both startle when Keaton suddenly appears, his green eyes narrowing at me, busting me again.
“Damn it!” I stomp my foot.
“When are you gonna learn?” Keaton asks, resting his muscular arms o
n the counter. Why does he need to be so handsome? He’s smirking at me, waiting for an answer, and all I can focus on is the way his Jim Morrison T-shirt pulls so perfectly across his chest and how vibrant the tatts on his arms look today, my eyes catching on a moon peeking through the tree branches of the forest inked right on his forearm.
“Earth to Kam.” He waves his hand in front of me.
“When are you going to give me what I want?” I ask, and realize immediately that I’ve just set myself up.
“Whenever you ask for it, Kam. In the right way.”
“Cryptic much?”
He chuckles. “I’m not being cryptic. You just gotta figure out what you want.”
Are we even talking about tattoos here, anymore?
“Are you going to give me my tattoo today or not?” I ask, my patience wearing out.
“Not today, we’re booked solid.” The asshat turns the computer and shows me where my name should be in the four o’clock slot.
“I could kill you, you know that? Stop making me come all the way down here.”
“Come for a quick coffee break with me?”
“I guess,” I smile, even though he’s annoying.
“My treat?” Keaton tilts his head in invitation, and all I can do is laugh.
“It better be, after all this.”
“So yeah?” he beams.
“Yeah, let’s go.” I say and he comes around from behind the counter and pulls me close to him, wrapping his arm around my shoulder, then leads us towards the door.
“Try not to burn the place down while I’m gone, Becks.” Keaton calls over his shoulder.
“No guarantees. Keep your phone handy.” Becks says. “And I’ll take an Americano with cream, thanks for asking.”
Keaton laughs. “Such a wiseass.” Then leaning in close to my ear, he says, “I’ve missed you. You’ve been busy. How else was I going to see you? Trivia is still two days away.”
And just like that, I’m as happy with a cup of coffee as I would have been with a tattoo.
Almost.
First Love (Winning at Love Book 2) Page 19