“Well, that’s bull. What do you need to change anyway? The fighting thing maybe, just so you don’t lose your shot at finishing school and playing college ball. You’re good enough that it could happen. You can do anything you want.”
“Okay. Maybe. But what if the things I want to do with my life still don’t make me good enough to be with you?”
“Good enough for me? Look, you want to know how I feel about myself? I’m too big. Every time I’m around other girls, I feel massive. I’m different too. I’m not girly or feminine, and I don’t give a flip for clothes and makeup and, until you, I didn’t care about boys either. Dating was always for someday, but really it was a way to cope with the fact that no one ever asked me out.”
“Yeah, well, I told you why that was the first time I ever talked to you. You’ll never know the willpower it’s taken not to beat up half the guys on my team. If you could hear what they say about you in the locker room, you’d know there’s not single thing wrong with how you look.”
Okay. I was going to have to dissect how I felt about that later. “But there’s more. Jason, even though my stepdad has tons of money, I’ve never felt like I belonged in his life. That as soon as I was on my own, I was going to be back to the life I had before. I still have to stop myself from hoarding food in my room because of feeling like that was the only way I could know for sure I’d have food to eat. But everyone at school thinks I’m a snob. It just totally throws me off inside, so I have to push and push and push to accomplish things—to prove that I am good enough.”
“You’re crazy, angel. And delusional. You might not know how perfect you are, but I do.” His voice got that distant quality in it that made me desperate—made me sure that he was going to shut himself off behind a wall again.
“Stop it! I’m not. We’re both flawed and both awesome, and the only thing that even matters is that we like each other. So that’s it. You’re my boyfriend now, and you can just deal with it.”
“Me? You were the one keeping your distance.”
“You were the one who showed up at school with a fake girlfriend.”
He took a deep breath and exhaled it. “Good. You knew.”
“Well, not at first, so you’re still a punk for putting me through that. But Brielle didn’t deny that she talked you into it to deal with the Troy situation.”
“Yeah. He kept texting and calling her all day Sunday. It was freaking her out. After seeing my mom get treated badly by men my whole life, that’s one thing I can’t handle. And Brielle can’t help the way she is. She’s had a rough life too.”
“I know why you did it. I think it’s cool. But you know she was also using it to try to get with you, right?”
Jason shrugged. “I figured it out. Even if I wasn’t already crazy about you, she never would have had a chance. She’s more like a little sister to me.”
“Ouch. That would kill her.”
“It did.”
“What?”
“I sort of said that when I was ending our agreement last night. I think if she’d had a shotgun handy, she would have put some lead in my backside.”
“Why didn’t you just tell me what was going on?”
“She made me swear not to. Something about how I had to keep my distance from you or people would know that our relationship was fake. When I agreed, you’d just told me to back off, remember? It wasn’t until I realized how hurt you were that I wished I hadn’t agreed to it. By the way, are you always going to be this hot and cold?”
I shook my head and scooted closer so I could put my arms around him. “Nope. That was just me trying to figure out what I wanted. Or rather, what I should do about it. I always knew what I wanted.”
“And that was?”
“You’re going to get a big head if we keep talking like this. How about if we just get back to kissing practice. Or maybe I could practice flirting some more. I don’t think I have that completely figured out yet either. I might have to watch some more YouTube videos.”
Jason let out a crack of laughter and pulled me against him. He put his head on mine and didn’t speak. But the way he held me and the tension in his muscles let me know that something important was happening. Something good.
The rain had slowed down at some point, and I hadn’t even noticed. I hoped it wasn’t too late, but I had no idea what time it was. All I knew was that this was a perfect moment and I was exactly where I wanted to be. If only I could just hit pause and make this magic draw out as long as possible.
I ran my fingers up and down his back slowly, feeling the strength of his muscles and the slow rise and fall of his lungs as he breathed. The cotton of his T-shirt was soft beneath my fingertips, and the rain in his hair brought out the spicy scent of his shampoo. I breathed it in, melting in a way I’d never experienced, so at peace to finally be in Jason’s arms with no doubts or hesitation or anyone between us.
After a few more long moments, Jason raised his head. In a broken voice he said, “I wish I could tell you what it feels like to have you close. You’re like sunshine. And I’ve always lived in shadow.”
I hadn’t known before that your heart could feel like it was smiling. “Careful, Jason. You sound an awful lot like a poet for someone who doesn’t like Shakespeare.”
“Well, it’s all your fault, angel.”
16
Jason, it turned out, was as stubborn as he was unpredictable. As soon as it had stopped raining, he’d taken me back to my car. I hadn’t minded waiting while he’d filled his tires back up with air so he could drive on the roads again, because the last thing I’d wanted—or ever wanted—was to be separated from him.
But I’d needed to get home before my mom and Cole worried about me, and he’d needed to go make things okay with his grandma.
The days that followed had been hard for Jason. Anxious about getting his grades up so he could graduate, he’d hated not being able to go to school. The worst part, of course, was missing the football game. It had killed him to not play, though he’d been there on the sidelines. The game had gone badly, and he’d barely been able to contain his frustration with not being able to help. Watching from the stands had been hard—I’d wanted to hold his hand and help him get through it.
When the game ended in a loss, he’d turned away, silent and hard, but I’d known it for what it was—just brutal anger at himself. But I saw a shift in him from that night, and so did his coaches and teachers. The part of him that I had always known was there—the motivated, responsible, respectable guy—had begun to emerge.
A month after his suspension, I sat in the stands again, just as I did every Friday night. Ryker sat beside me, both of us bundled up against the cold November wind. Jason and Ryker had bonded over sports and burping, so Ryker cheered him on as enthusiastically as I did.
Jason played like some kind of superhuman. Every victory was a step forward for him as he dared to believe in possibilities. Dreaming was new for him, and so was seeing his own potential. Which was crazy, because everyone who came to watch the games knew he was one of the few players who had what it took to reach the next level. Even after missing a whole game, his stats for the year were better than any other tight end in the state—which was why there were several college recruiters in the stands watching him tonight.
As he caught a short pass and powered his way through the defense to get a first down close to the goal line, I shook my head in amazement. Jason still didn’t believe in the incredible future he was going to have, but I did. I had no idea how we were going to manage things if we ended up at different schools, but there was no way I was going to let anything come between us. I’d found the guy who made me love myself as much as I loved him, and I wasn’t about to let him go.
“You’re grinning like an idiot again,” Charlotte said.
“That’s because I’m a happy idiot.”
When the game was almost over, I pulled Ryker down the bleachers and along the fence to where there was a gate. When the game
finished and the team broke out of their huddle, I waited, knowing Jason would come find me.
He ran toward me, shouldering his way through the mass of players running off the field. The stadium lights shown on his dark, wet hair, but his smile was what grabbed my attention. I saw it more and more often, but it knocked me off my feet every time. As he got closer, I could sense the victory radiating off him.
We didn’t even speak; he just pulled me up against him in a hug that felt like a celebration of more than just the game. Shoulder pads are an uncomfortable thing to hug, but I didn’t care. It meant the world that he wanted me to share the moment with him. He kissed me right there under the lights with a huge crowd milling around behind us.
When he pulled back, he shook his head. “Awesome, right? There couldn’t be a better game for the recruiters to come to.”
“Any of your games would have impressed them. You’ll have your pick of colleges.”
Jason turned to give Ryker their usual high five and added a playful scrub to the top of his head. “I hope so. I’m aiming for one of them specifically.”
I hadn’t heard that before. “Oh yeah? Which one?”
“Georgia. I may not have the grades to get into Duke, but as long as I’m within driving distance, I’m good.”
That deserved a kiss, and he got one. “I support that one hundred percent.”
“I’m a football player. If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s how to find a path to the goal line.”
I grinned at him, tempted to ask exactly what the goal line was. But I didn’t need to know that right now. “Goals are good, but tonight I just want to have fun. Are we going for pizza?”
“Anything you want, angel. Just give me a chance to get changed.”
“You know you don’t have to change for me.”
“I do. That’s why I love you.”
He ran off, leaving me gaping after him. Did he not realize that was the first time he’d said those words out loud?
I shook Ryker’s shoulder. “You stay here.” Then, running out onto the field, I yelled, “Jason Hunt, you get right back here.”
He turned around. “What?”
I charged through the still open gate and jumped on him. He tried to catch me, but he stumbled, and we both fell backward. He grunted as I landed on top of him but just burst out laughing.
“Look at you, tough guy. Tackled by your girlfriend.”
“Yeah, thanks a lot. Think the recruiters are still watching?”
From the wolf whistles rising around us, a lot of people were watching. “Well, you can’t just tell a girl you love her and walk away like it’s no big deal.’”
He grinned. “Trust me. I know it’s a big deal. Nothing is a bigger deal. I still don’t know how I got so lucky.”
I shook my head. We’d never agree about this, about who was good enough for whom. But I was happy to be the person in his life that believed in him. Whatever happened with school and sports and careers, the only thing that mattered to me now was sharing it all with him.
“It wasn’t luck,” I teased him. “You were just the first guy to ask me out.”
He smirked at me. “And you were the first girl to turn me down.”
Then he kissed me again before I could tell him he was an arrogant butthead.
Don’t miss the next book in the Sweet Water High Series
Chemistry of a Kiss
By Kimberly Krey
Keep scrolling to read the first chapter!!!
Before You Go
Coming soon by Michelle Pennington
A new Young Adult Romance series:
Summer of First Kisses
A new release every three weeks!
Acknowledgments
I would like to thank my family, as always, for their love and support.
Thanks to my critique partners, Amy Meyer, Victorine Lieske, and Judy Corry.
I love working with all of you, staying up late with you, and podcasting with you.
(Even though my phone pings a lot.)
Thanks to my cover designer, Victorine Lieske!
Special thanks to my editors Cara Seger, Arielle Bailey, Tabitha Kocsis
And thank you for reading my books. Please consider leaving a review!
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About the Author
Michelle Pennington writes clean, heart-pounding, sigh-inducing romance across multiple genres. Her books include Young Adult, Contemporary, Regency, and Fantasy. The genre might change, but her characters will always be falling in love.
She spends her days quoting movies with her husband and making messes faster than her four kids. . She also has two cats, Boots (who is really Hessian Boots, the perfect Regency gentleman, complete with a snowy white cravat) and a new rescue kitten, Coconut. She loves to make magic by stringing words together, but she also creates designer sugar cookies, sings loud in church, and kills too many house plants.
Sneak Peak
And now, the first chapter of Chemistry of a Kiss
By Kimberly Krey
One blackboard, twenty-six names, thirteen couples. That summed up the proverbial Strike Two in my day.
Exactly six seconds ago I hurried into class and scrolled down the lines of loopy cursive writing until I came to mine: Harper Tisdale.
A long dash separated my name from the one beside it. The name of my new partner—the one I’d spend a dozen hours with over the next two weeks: Jett Bryant.
Anger, stress, tension, panic—all of it manifested itself in an annoying rash of heat along the back of my shoulders where it would grow and swell and force its way into other extremities. The mere sight of Jett’s name next to mine set the heat wave in motion. I blinked hard, opened my eyes once more, but it was still there.
I knew something was wrong with this day from the moment I caught Missy eating the last bowl of the only decent cereal in the house. My stomach growled as I stared at the chalkboard in paralyzed horror. I contemplated spinning around, bolting for my dusty gray Jetta in the dreary parking lot, and driving straight to The Bread Basket for a gooey cinnamon roll with extra icing, but that would do nothing to fix my problem. I’d come back tomorrow to find that Jett was still my partner. Worse, I’d have missed a day of class, meaning I would have to lean on him for the details of what I’d missed.
Students shuffled past me as they entered the room. Levi and Ky gave each other high fives after spotting the board and took a seat at one of the double desks in back. Another look at the board said Olivia and Lucas were paired up. Maybe we could switch.
Carefully, so as not to make accidental eye contact, I glanced over my shoulder to see if Jett had made it to class yet. Maybe he was sick today. I felt slightly hideous for hoping this was the case, but the fact was—in my heart—I was downright praying he was hovered over a barf bowl.
My hope was crushed when I noticed a confident-looking Jett stride into the room. Jett Bryant was never hard to spot in a crowd. That tall, self-assured stature combined with dark hair, an olive complexion, and ridiculously brooding eyes made him stand out among every other student at Sweet Water High. It had done the same thing all throughout middle school and elementary too. Trouble was, he seemed to know it.
I watched him from across the room, admiration clashing with angst like a war that would never cease. His brow furrowed as he took in the disrupted seating arrangement. He glanced up at the board next. My heart stopped beating for three full seconds as I scrutinized his face.
His dark eyes narrowed as he searched for his name, then widened as they stopped at one spot. A tiny tug pulled at the sides of his lips, making the angry shoulder heat shift into something a little less…angry. He moved his gaze over the room then, stopping only once his eyes met mine. That hint of a smile grew, each corner of his fu
ll lips lifting into a pompous grin.
Holy Gorgeous.
I jerked my eyes off him and faced the front of the room. Why did guys that attractive have to know what kind of effect they had on us? Probably because dummies like me made it obvious by doing stupid things to feed their ego.
One freaking kiss. That’s all it was. One stupid kindergarten kiss and the guy thinks I’m in love with him for life. He probably thought I arranged this whole thing. The little pigtailed girl who chased him down, tackled him to the ground, and planted a kiss to his lips is trying a new tactic—magically becoming his partner in first period.
The bell rang out its obnoxious buzz, and the students hurried into their seats. Everyone but me. It was now or never. One of us had to be man enough to act, and since Jett was obviously enjoying himself too much to request a partner change, I’d woman-up and do it myself.
Ms. Tolken wasn’t exactly the warm and fuzzy type, but she wasn’t horrible either. I reminded myself that I aced debate class because I was good at presenting a case. I could do this.
Chin lifted, shoulders high, I strode to the front of her desk.
Tolken sat hovered over some paperwork, leaving me with a view of the bun in her hair, which was surprisingly big for the size of her head. She’d probably just broken out of her twenties but for some unknown reason she dressed like an eighty-year-old.
“Sorry to bother you, Ms. Tolken,” I said in my sweet-but-assertive voice. The voice I used for Dorothy when approaching the Oz in Sweet Water’s community production two summers ago.
“What is it?” the woman grumbled without looking up.
“I see that we have new partner assignments, and I wondered if it would be possible to make a slight change in mine.”
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