Never Have I Ever Land: A Sweet YA Romance (Fall in Love Like a Princess Book 3)
Page 8
“Oh yeah?” She followed me toward the doors leading to the lakefront side of the property. “Like what?”
“Um...” I mentally raced through all the options. Hot tub? Probably too soon. I didn’t want to scare her off. Yahtzee? Parcheesi? Boggle?
Do you really want her to think you’re a ninety-year-old man in a football player’s body?
“We’ve got some board games,” I said.
“Ooh, I love board games.” She gave me a wink that was probably not supposed to be sexy, but still managed to be sexy just because it came from her. “After we take a dip in the lake.”
“You don’t even have a swimsuit,” I pointed out.
“I don’t mind swimming in my clothes,” she said.
And just like that I was thinking about a soaking wet Callie, and a dip in an ice cold lake was a phenomenal idea.
“Besides, don’t tell me you’ve never taken a girl swimming at this lake. I bet you’re okay with swimming in your underwear.”
Or maybe this was the worst idea. I glanced over to see if she was serious. She was. She honestly thought I brought all the girls here to my grandparents’ cabin.
I wavered somewhere between hurt and amused. I knew I had a reputation to some extent. What guy on the football team didn’t? Girls liked us and we liked girls. But I’d thought that by now Callie got it. I thought she understood that she wasn’t just some girl to me.
I thought maybe she’d somehow just known that she was the one and only girl I’d brought to this cabin. And definitely the only one I’d invited to spend the day.
“You don’t have anything to change into afterward,” I pointed out.
Yet, all this debating was taking place as we strode toward the little beach that lined the lake. Because apparently I was whipped, and I didn’t even have a girlfriend.
Yet.
The thought made me stumble over my own two feet. Crap. The thought made me nervous, which was just stupid.
I was Maverick freakin’ Prater. Girls loved me. I was in demand. I was a freakin’ football star.
This inner pep talk wasn’t doing anything for my ego, because louder than my own personal motivational speech were Savannah’s words of advice.
She doesn't care about football or how popular you are. She's not a party person and she would never kiss a guy unless she really likes him.
The memory of Savannah’s words made me grunt with exasperation. Leave it to me to fall for the one girl in school who couldn’t care less about all that.
I glanced over and watched her take in the sight of the sunshine glinting off the lake. It was nothing compared to her smile.
Ugh. Yeah. I had it bad.
And she had it bad for Roman. Maybe. I snuck another peek in her direction. She hadn’t mentioned him once today. And she had to have noticed that he’d forgotten all about her last night.
The thought made me angry on her behalf, but relieved for my own sake. If I’d had to watch Roman hitting on a drunk Callie I probably would have ended up in a fight.
“Let’s do this,” Callie shouted as we drew close to the water’s edge. She ran in splashing and I doubled over laughing as she turned right back around, her laughter turning to shrieks as she ran right back out.
“Cold?” I asked as I reached her. I didn’t think it through, I just pulled her close to warm her up. She’d only made it as far as her knees, but the frigid water had her teeth chattering.
“That was such a bad idea,” she said with a breathless laugh.
I rubbed her back and held her even tighter, trying to ignore the fact that she was a girl, that she had curves. That those curves were currently pressed up against me and impossible to ignore.
“Can I just point out that I’m not saying I told you so?” I asked.
She laughed all over again and the movement had her pressing in even closer as she shivered violently. “I think you pointing out that you didn’t say I told you so counts as an I told you so.”
I shrugged and she laughed again.
I loved her laugh. I loved her laugh so much I wished I was a funny guy so I could hear it all the time.
“What?” she said, her tone all expectant as she pulled back to gaze up at me. “What’s that look about?”
I shook my head. “Nothing. But I’m glad you’re feeling better.”
She nodded. “Me too.”
I slipped off the worn, old zip-up hooded sweatshirt I’d been wearing over my T-shirt and wrapped it around her shoulders. She clutched the edges together and burrowed into it.
“Come on.” I kept an arm around her shoulders as I led the way over to my grandpa’s old fishing dock. It was in the sun and I knew from experience that it was the best place to warm up when the lake was too cold.
We found a spot at the edge and sat with our legs hanging off.
“Better?” I asked when her shivering stopped being so exaggerated.
She nodded. “I’m great.”
I looked over to see her gazing out at the lake. She looked so dreamy and thoughtful, and I would have given my entire college savings to know what she was thinking about.
We sat like that for ages. Talking about everything and nothing. Not talking, but not in a bad way. Laughing. Not laughing. It was easy. It was natural. And for a guy who didn’t do talking or laughing or any of whatever this was, that was saying something.
It was so freakin’ perfect. I didn’t want it to end.
I was pretty sure Callie felt the same way.
I hoped she felt the same.
But after a while the wind picked up, reminding us that it might be early fall, but it was still fall and there was a chill in the air that meant business.
When not even my sweatshirt or my arm around her kept her warm, we decided it was time for lunch. I offered to make her something out of whatever I could scrounge up in the cabin’s kitchen, but she said she had to be getting home.
I wanted to argue. I didn’t want this day to end. But she had a life, and she wasn’t my girlfriend.
Not yet.
But this was a really good start.
By the time we climbed into my truck and I drove us back to her place, I was getting this feeling—a feeling I wasn’t entirely familiar with but wasn’t opposed to either.
My palms were sweaty on the steering wheel and I had a hard time focusing on anything she was saying as she fiddled with the radio dials.
I was pretty sure this feeling was hope. Or maybe optimism. It was something I only felt around Callie, and I liked it more than I wanted to say.
It was the feeling of being at the start of something new. Something great.
Something important and life changing.
It was so overwhelming I couldn’t think of anything to say until I pulled the truck over to the side of the road and turned to find her watching me with a smile so sweet it hurt my heart.
“Thank you again,” she said. “For everything.”
“Don’t thank me,” I muttered.
That made her smile grow. “Too bad. Now I know your deep, dark secret.” The teasing in her tone was adorable and flirty. It was impossible to stay away from her and I shifted closer as she leaned in to finish. “You’re a really nice guy.”
I barely heard her words because she was all-consuming. The sound of her voice, the smell of her skin, the feel of her body’s warmth.
I leaned in slowly. Again. And just like that last time I waited and waited, taking it so slowly I thought I might die from impatience.
I wanted to kiss her so badly, but not unless I was sure. Not unless she was sure.
Her gaze held mine and I watched her eyes darken. Her lips parted and she leaned in ever so slightly. It wasn’t much, but it was enough.
She moved toward me.
And then I kissed her, closing the distance between us as I cupped her perfect heart-shaped face between my big, meaty paws and kissed her as gently as I could.
Eleven
Callie
&nb
sp; The first touch of his lips against mine was wickedly hot. A bolt of heat shot through me like lightning. The feel of his palms against my cheeks seared my skin and short-circuited my brain. But it was the firm weight of his lips pressing against mine that had my heart catapulting against my ribcage.
He was kissing me. Maverick Prater was kissing me.
And that was the last coherent thought before my brain shut down completely and my body took over.
I kissed him back. Or I tried to. As a kissing novice, I wasn’t entirely certain what I was supposed to do, but I leaned into him and that seemed to be enough, because Maverick groaned and then his mouth was moving over mine, slowly and tenderly. His breath was hot against my lips and his thumb moved against my skin in a sweet caress that made my chest ache.
He tilted his head slightly, and his lips fit against mine like a puzzle piece locking into place. Now I was the one who groaned because...whoa. So this was kissing. Wet heat and firm lips, muscles I hadn’t realized were tense with nerves turned to butter as he deepened the kiss. Testing and teasing, and teaching, whether he knew it or not. I followed his lead as he kissed me slowly, thoroughly, like he had all the time in the world. Like he could kiss me for eternity.
I was so okay with kissing for eternity. This was heaven on earth. Sweet and delicious, and so very...new.
Maybe he would have kissed me for eternity—or at least another couple hours or so—if my little brothers hadn’t interrupted.
Wham, wham. A knock on the truck’s door had me pulling back with a gasp. “Callie, what are you doing in there?” I heard Brent whine. “Come on out.”
For half a second I was frozen. Maverick’s gaze met mine and held. And it. Was. Hot.
His eyes were hot. I didn’t know a gaze could truly burn until that moment. But sweet biscuits and honey, those eyes were on fire. And I felt that fire all the way to my toes.
Wham, wham. “Callie,” Mikey said in a sing-song voice. “Whose truck is this? It’s cool.”
Maverick’s lips hitched up on one side and that heat faded to amusement. “It is a pretty cool truck,” he said in that low voice of his.
I let out a breathless laugh as I pulled back farther. The moment was officially over, but I was still trying to collect my thoughts from wherever they’d scattered. I shifted to look out my window and saw the tops of my little brothers’ heads.
At least they hadn’t seen me kissing Maverick. That would have been way too embarrassing. As it was, there was already a very good chance they’d say or do something to embarrass me in front of Maverick.
Maverick Prater.
Funny how a little while ago he’d just been Maverick, the super nice guy who’d taken care of me when I was at my lowest. And now I couldn’t not think of him without tacking on his last name. Right now I was absurdly aware of the fact that this was a guy who could have anyone. Who might have had everyone. Not in a male slut kind of way, but in a ‘did he go around kissing every girl this way?’ kind of way.
He reached for his door handle before I could ask. Probably for the best. My head was still spinning from that kiss, and there was no way I could have formed a cohesive, tactful question about his kissing history.
And it was likely none of my business. Right? I mean, one kiss did not a relationship make.
Right?
My heart was pounding like a gong as the reality of what I’d just done smacked me in the face.
I was only distantly aware of Maverick opening the door for me and helping me down. I was even less aware of what my brothers were talking about. Only that they seemed to recognize Maverick and were rattling off football-related questions.
Meanwhile the questions racing through my head? They had nothing to do with football.
Did he think this meant we were together? Did he want to be together? Did he even do together?
In the three years I’d been going to school with Maverick, I’d never known him to have a girlfriend. Not that I’d been keeping track or anything, but he and his friends were pseudo-celebrities in our little fishbowl world so if he’d ever had a girlfriend, I was pretty sure I’d have known.
So maybe he didn’t do girlfriends.
My heart lurched and my lungs hitched. A panicky sensation took hold as I watched Maverick cross his arms and frown down at my brothers. Not in a mean way. In a serious way. A thoughtful way. And then he proceeded to answer each and every one of their football questions seriously. Thoughtfully.
But I couldn’t even pretend to listen now because—what did I care if he did or did not do girlfriends?
I didn’t.
I shouldn’t.
He wasn’t the guy I liked. The world seemed to tip around me as I tried to make sense of my feelings. Only yesterday I’d gone to a party and gotten drunk and acted like a moron, and all because I liked a guy. A guy who was not Maverick.
So what was I doing kissing Maverick?
And why was I thinking thoughts of relationships with a guy I’d never had feelings for?
Was I that fickle?
My stomach sank with the thought.
“Callie?” Maverick was scowling down at me in concern. “You okay?”
I nodded but...no. Nope. Definitely not. I’d just kissed the wrong guy. And it was my first kiss. A first kiss should be special.
My breath left me in a whoosh at the memory of that kiss. Okay, fine, it had been special. But it had been with the wrong guy.
Hadn’t it?
Maverick continued to stare, his brows drawing down even farther. Clearly he didn’t believe me that I was okay. Probably because I couldn’t seem to slow my breathing. Also because he wasn’t a moron and I was a hideous actor. In real life, I mean. Put me in a princess costume and I was in my element, but here, like this, with my brothers gazing up at Maverick with wide, starstruck eyes, and me knowing that he’d just kissed me?
“I’m fine.” I forced a wide grin and his frown deepened.
Like I’d said—I was a bad actress. And he was not an idiot.
“Guys, we should go inside,” I said to my brothers.
They ignored me and asked him to show them some tips. They’d been bugging my mom to let them try out for the middle school football team next year and it seemed they thought Maverick could be their in.
“He doesn’t have time,” I started.
But Maverick spoke at the same time and it was to launch into instructions about some drill they should master.
The boys were in heaven.
Me? I was more confused than I’d ever been in my life, and the longer he stuck around the more confused I felt. Watching him be all big bro with my brothers was absolutely confusing my already confused emotions. Who wouldn’t melt a little at the sight of this?
I needed a minute to myself to sort through these feelings. To try and make sense of why I’d reacted like I had to that kiss.
Would I have been that swept away by any guy’s kiss or did it mean something?
Was I a shallow jerk or had I been wrong about Roman?
Did I actually like Maverick or did I just like being liked?
A moan of misery slipped out and Maverick stopped his lecture to stare at me. Whatever he saw, he turned back to my brothers, pointed a finger in their direction and commanded them to drop and give him ten.
To my surprise, my little brothers who refused to do anything I ever asked of them followed his command and started doing pushups.
Maverick turned to me with the same fierce scowl and for half a second I was a little afraid he was going to order me to do pushups too. That was exactly what this day did not need. “Talk to me,” he said.
My mouth opened. Nothing came out. For the first time since I’d started working with Maverick, I was just as speechless around him as I was around Roman.
Did that mean something? The voice in my head had gone all high and screechy in panic. I winced at the sheer volume in my skull.
So there I stood in open-mouthed awkward silence as my broth
ers grunted their way through pushups and Maverick scowled down at me, the concern in his eyes turning slowly to something far worse. I couldn’t name it, but I could basically see a shutter closing, I could feel him pulling away.
Because I was acting like a weirdo, no doubt. But I couldn’t seem to stop, and I couldn’t think of anything to say.
And then my mom walked outside to see what was going on, and just in case this whole situation wasn’t awkward enough, my mother managed to up the level of awkward by a million. “Sweetheart, how did you get home? I thought you’d need a ride from Willow’s.” But as she spoke, her gaze was fixed on Maverick, the question unspoken but blatant.
Who the heck is this and why is he giving you a ride home?
“Oh, um...”
My brothers stopped attempting pushups and collapsed on the ground with melodramatic groans.
“Mom, this is Maverick.”
“Hi, Maverick.” My mother’s smile was polite but cool. Reserved. It was the smile of an overprotective mother. “How did you come to be giving my daughter a ride home when she was staying at Willow’s house last night?”
Her gaze moved to me. The question was for me. My mom was no fool and she had strict rules. I’d heard some friends talk about how their parents were cool with them going to parties or having boy-girl sleepovers. This was not the case in my house. “Didn’t I tell you?” I said, my voice a little too chipper. Bad actress, remember? Even worse liar. “Maverick joined our Princess Troupe.”
The boys shared matching looks of shock, but Mom was still suspicious.
“He came by Willow’s to pick up a script for this weekend’s party and offered to give me a ride so you wouldn’t have to come pick me up.” My smile grew. “Nice of him, right?”
My mother’s smile warmed considerably. “That was very kind of you, Maverick. Thanks for giving Callie a ride.”
“My pleasure,” he said in that low rumbly voice of his.
I liked that voice. But did that mean I necessarily liked him? No.
Did I like him? I glanced up at Maverick again and my heart slammed against my ribcage again.
I didn’t know. This was too confusing. His kiss had rattled my brain and now I didn’t know which way was up and who I even had a crush on anymore.