Kissing the Player (The Dangers of Dating a Diva Book 1)

by Maggie Dallen

  “I told you someone would get hurt,” Simone said, her voice a weird mix of sympathy and self-righteous belligerence. She had told me that…and she’d been right.

  Like always.

  I hurt. Like…physically, I was in pain. It wasn’t just embarrassment and hurt pride. It was more than that. My chest ached and my gut felt hollow. I had this horrible sensation churning inside me—

  Regret.

  That’s what it was.

  It was the feeling that I’d come close to having something great and I’d blown it. I’d just discovered the one thing my life was missing, the one person who might be something more than just a fling or a hookup, the one person who…I might actually care about.

  And I realized it too late.

  Simone’s gaze was filled with worry so I forced a wan smile as I turned my head to face her. “I did get hurt, but I’ll live.”

  “Actually, this time I was talking about Rose.”

  “Oh.” I shifted, sitting upright. “She’s not hurt. She’s pissed. There’s a difference.”

  I saw her gaping in utter disbelief. “What?”

  She shook her head as if I was too dumb for words. It was a look I knew well. We went back a long time, and she’d always seen me as an idiot. Today, for once, I tended to agree with her assessment.

  “Do you still not get it?” she snapped.

  “Get what?”

  “The girl has feelings.”

  “I know,” I said, aggravation leaking into my voice. “She’s pissed. I get it. I’d be angry too.”

  “She’s only pissed because she’s hurt. Jeez, Jax…” She shook her head. “Are all guys this out of touch with human emotions or is it just you?”

  I shifted uncomfortably. I’d known I’d made Rose angry, but it hadn’t occurred to me that she’d been hurt.

  Another wave of regret hit me square in the gut, and this round was even worse. I could barely breathe as I realized that I might have actually hurt her.

  Simone was staring at me like she expected a response.

  “I’m not out of touch with my emotions,” I said stiffly. “I just didn’t think…I didn’t know…”

  “You didn’t know that there was more to Rose than she lets on?” she guessed. “You didn’t realize that she’s an actual person and not just some smiling doll for you and your friends to treat like a freakin’ prize?”

  I shook my head. I think I’d always known that there was more to her than the flirty smiles and the look-at-me charisma—that was why it annoyed me so much to watch her these past two years. I knew it was fake. It drove me nuts to watch her prance through the halls putting on an act when I’d gotten a peek at the amazing girl beneath it all.

  “I didn’t know…” My mouth went dry as I realized the truth. “I didn’t know how much I liked her.”

  Simone and I sat in silence as I tried to wrap my head around this new realization.

  It was a weird feeling, looking at the past two years of your life from a different angle. All the events were the same, but the angle was different, the perspective shifted and suddenly it all fell into focus.

  “I liked Rose,” I said quietly.

  Simone scoffed. “No duh.”

  “No, I mean, I’d liked her back when we were dating. I liked her a lot. So much that…”

  “It scared the crap out of you,” Simone filled in for me when she got impatient with my slow reveal.

  “Yeah.” I blinked in surprise at her tone. “You knew?”

  She tipped her head down and arched her brows. “You’re not as complicated as you’d like to believe, Jax.”

  I choked on a laugh. “You’re right. I’m an idiot. I’ve always been an idiot…”

  She gave me an expectant look.

  “You were supposed to argue.”

  “And you were supposed to admit that I’m always right.”

  I gave her a mock glare. “Well, if you knew I liked her, why didn’t you clue me in?”

  She rolled her eyes. “You were obviously upset when she broke up with you. I wasn’t going to rub it in.”

  “But you knew,” I said.

  She nodded. “I knew. You liked her so much it scared you, which was why you were going to end things…like an idiot.”

  I opened my mouth. I wished I could protest. It sounded so lame when she said it like that.

  She sighed. “But then she ended things first and you—”

  “Acted like a jerk,” I finished.

  She hitched her lips to the side. “You reacted like anyone would when they get hurt. You went on the offense and came up with a ton of reasons not to like her so the breakup didn’t hurt so badly. It’s a classic self-defense mechanism.”

  I stared at her with wide eyes. “I really am out of touch with my emotions.”

  She smirked. “You’re like a chapter out of Psych 101.”

  I bowed my head with my hands clasped together. “Teach me, oh wise one.”

  She laughed as she rested against the wall. “You know you have to make this right...” Her voice held a hint of a question like she wanted to be sure.

  “Yeah, but how?” I leaned back next to her. “How do I make this right?”

  “You could try telling her what you just told me,” she said.

  I winced. “I already told her I liked her. She…patted my cheek.”

  Simone’s grimace matched mine. “Maybe you should start with an apology.”

  I nodded. “I definitely owe her an apology. There’s only one problem…”

  “What’s that?” Simone asked.

  “I’m pretty sure she’s never going to speak to me again.”

  17

  Rose

  As far as avoidance went, I excelled at it. I could ghost a person better than anyone.

  “Remind me again why we’re eating lunch in the auditorium?” Hannah asked.

  I nodded toward the stage. “I’ve got to rehearse my new monologue during study hall. I need every second I can get.”

  And also…to avoid seeing Jax. A solid week and I’d managed to evade him, even though he was clearly trying to corner me and get a moment alone.

  If Broadway didn’t work out, maybe I should consider a career with the CIA. I’d already mastered costumes, makeup, and accents. And once a spy assignment was done?

  I’d disappear without a trace.

  No one would suspect a thing.

  “So…this has nothing to do with the fact that you’re avoiding another run-in with Jax?” Hannah asked before taking a big bite of her sandwich.

  Okay, fine. No one except for Hannah would suspect a thing.

  “I’m not avoiding him,” I lied.

  She stared at me.

  “Okay, fine. I’m avoiding him. But it’s not a big deal. If I can avoid being alone with him until this weekend’s fundraiser is over, I should have no reason to be in the same room with him until graduation.” I set down my salad. “Easy peasy.”

  Hannah continued to stare at me like I was speaking Greek.

  “What?”

  “Rose, do you really think avoidance and denial are going to solve this problem?”

  “Problem? What problem?” I looked around pointedly. “I don’t see a problem.”

  “Mmhmm.” Her tone said she did not believe me.

  I sighed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  She jabbed a finger a little too close to my eyes. “You have circles under your eyes.”

  I gasped. “I do not.” I reached up and patted the admittedly puffy eye area. Sure, I hadn’t been sleeping, and maybe I’d caved and cried a little last night when I was remembering that kiss and feeling pathetically sorry for myself. But I’d caked on the concealer this morning to make up for it and not even my mother had called me out for looking bad. “Take it back,” I demanded.

  Hannah rolled her eyes. “I’m not saying it to be mean. And there’s nothing to be so offended about. You don’t have to look perfect all the time—”


  “Tell that to my mom,” I joked.

  “I wish I could.” Hannah was not joking. She looked frighteningly serious. “She’s got her priorities all out of whack, but that doesn’t mean you have to.”

  I couldn’t quite meet her gaze. I didn’t want to see her sympathy, or worse…think about the fact that she might have a point. “What do you know about my mom’s priorities?” I muttered.

  As far as deflections went, it wasn’t my best. Hannah’s gaze turned knowing as she gave me a rueful smile. “I was there when your mom told you your best chance for success was to marry well, remember?” She shook her head with a grimace. “Your mom is not exactly Oprah when it comes to inspirational messages, and she definitely needs to get her head checked when it comes to you and your worth.”

  I blinked as stupid tears pricked at my eyes because…really, that might have been the nicest thing anyone ever said to me. Also, tears seemed to be ready to go at the drop of a hat these days, which was beyond annoying. But still… “Thanks, Hannah.”

  “But I still don’t think avoiding Jax is the answer to your problems.”

  I frowned. And there it was. The advice I didn’t want to hear. “You think I should talk to him?”

  She shrugged. “Or hit him, if that makes you feel better.”

  I let out a choked laugh. “I see. Funny, I never took you for the bloodthirsty type. Off the soccer field, I mean.”

  Hannah’s lips quirked up in a grin. “And I never took you for a coward.”

  “Ouch.” I clutched my chest and her smile grew.

  “Let me rephrase that,” she said slowly. “You’re not a coward, so stop acting like one.”

  I huffed. Leave it to a best friend to be brutal. “The guy’s a jerk. I don’t see why I have to deal with him.”

  “He might be a jerk, but you like him.”

  I didn’t try to deny it. Jax was an egotistical, self-centered moron…but there were moments when he wasn’t. They were fleeting and few, but they were there. And it was those glimpses of the good guy underneath his jerky exterior that made it hurt to think about him.

  “He’s a distraction, Hannah,” I said. “I can’t afford a distraction.”

  I waited for her to argue with me, and when I looked over I knew she wanted to. But she didn’t. Instead she leaned over and gave me a hug. “Maybe distractions are kind of the point.”

  I laughed as I squeezed her back. “You sound like Yoda and I have no idea what that means.”

  When she pulled back her smile was small and knowing, and suddenly I felt young and stupid sitting next to her.

  “Just think about it,” she said.

  I nodded. But when she left, I didn’t sit there and think; I got to work. First step? Turn on the spotlight.

  Was it cheesy? Maybe. But I performed best in the spotlight.

  Second step? Ditch the script.

  I’d been working for days to memorize this baby, and I had it. So now came the hard part—bringing it to life.

  I went through the Streetcar Named Desire monologue twice before stopping to reread the thing in disgust. It wasn’t right. Or rather—the monologue was just fine. I wasn’t right.

  I wasn’t nailing it.

  When I heard some motion offstage, I dropped the script and peered over only to see Simone quietly working on the kissing booth sign, of all things. It was turning out really cute with lots of puckered-up lips all over it.

  “Sorry,” she said when she spotted me staring at her. “Do you want some privacy?”

  “No. I’m used to an audience.” I tossed my hair. “I live for an audience.”

  My drama queen routine fell flat. I hadn’t really given it my all and she just stared back at me like I was a lunatic. I held up my script. “It sucks, doesn’t it?”

  She blinked but she didn’t look away. “It’s a great scene.”

  “Yeah, but…” I sighed. “It’s just not working.”

  She bit her lip.

  I narrowed my eyes in response. “What? What is it?”

  She shook her head. “Nothing.”

  I knew that look. She had thoughts. An opinion. It irritated the heck out of me but at the same time, I was curious. “Just spit it out.”

  She shifted where she was sitting. “You’re emoting.”

  I stared at her. I knew the word well, but it sounded weird coming from a stranger who wasn’t even in the drama department. “Yeah. So?”

  She chewed on her lower lip. “Well, it’s just that…”

  I let out a huff. “Go on, say it.”

  “It seems like you’re showing the emotions, but you’re not really feeling them.”

  The criticism hit me in the chest like a hammer. My lips parted and anger surged to the surface. “And how would you know? What, are you some sort of acting expert or something?”

  Her response was to shrug. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

  That only made me more annoyed.

  “Forget it,” she said. “I don’t know what I’m talking about.”

  No, you don’t. I opened my mouth to say it, but another voice cut in. Jax’s voice. “She does, actually.”

  My heart stuttered. I turned to see where his voice had come from but saw a glaring light instead. I heard him walking down the aisle, though, and my whole body responded. I was shaking and I didn’t even know why. I couldn’t tell if it was horror or excitement or nerves…or all of the above.

  This was what I’d been avoiding. This confrontation.

  I should have known he wouldn’t let me.

  The guy was focused when he wanted something. I’d been watching him these past two years. I’d been paying attention even when I didn’t want to. That band? It hadn’t formed because he was some slacker without a plan. His whole attitude, the way he made every girl want him and maneuvered the social scene? That wasn’t luck. It was him.

  He’d figured out how to get what he wanted. He wanted a band, he made it happen. He wanted string-free hookups? Done and done.

  And what he wanted now…

  Well, I had a feeling it was me.

  But why? I hated the fact that I couldn’t swallow. I hated it even more that my heart was pounding so loudly in my ears I was certain everyone could hear it. I hated that my hands were shaking so badly that I had to clench my rolled-up script between my fists.

  Why would he want me?

  He didn’t even like me and some part of me couldn’t even blame him. I was fake. I’d been faking my way through life for years. And I was vain, just like my mom, and maybe even shallow because all I wanted was to be a star of the stage.

  I started to back away, but then I saw him and froze all over again. He was close, climbing the stairs that led to the stage.

  That led to me.

  When he was standing a few feet away on stage, on the edges of the spotlight with me, he gave me a small, hesitant smile as he nodded over his shoulder toward Simone. “She’s really good at this acting stuff. You should listen to her.”

  I glanced over at Simone who was watching both of us with wide, wary eyes.

  “Oh yeah?” I said. My voice was strained and I had no idea how I was supposed to act right now.

  “Her dad’s a director,” he said.

  “Oh.”

  Yup. That was the awesome response I came up with. In my defense, though…what was happening here? I mean, honestly. Was I seriously standing here in the spotlight in the middle of the afternoon chatting about Simone’s family with the guy who’d just broken my heart?

  I gave my head a little shake. Get a grip. He didn’t break your heart he just…bruised it.

  I turned to Simone. “So you know your stuff, huh?”

  She blinked, pink staining her cheeks as she shuffled her feet. “I wouldn’t say that,” she mumbled.

  “Because you’re modest?” I guessed.

  Jax gave a little huff of amusement and I glanced his way. “One of us has to be.”

  His smile was small
and wry, and his eyes were…intense. His gaze was focused. He was doing that thing he did where he looked at me like he knew me. Like he could see right through me.

  This was the part where I hid. This was when I threw up a smoke screen and played the part of Rose the flirt or Rose the flake or Rose the vain.

  Right now I felt like Rose the sick. My stomach churned and I tried not to think about how humiliating it would be if I hurled right here, right now.

  Right on his shoes.

  The thought made my lips twitch with dark amusement. Maybe that’s what I should do—scare him off for good.

  Because that’s what I wanted, right? I lifted my eyes and my gaze collided with his. More like crashed. I was the victim of a gaze clash for the ages. His dark, brooding eyes held mine and wouldn’t let go.

  I couldn’t have looked away if I’d tried. “What are you doing here?”

  “Watching you perform,” he said.

  I flinched because for a second there I wasn’t sure if he was talking about my monologue or making another jibe about how fake I was.

  “You looked good up there,” he said. His eyes never left mine and his voice was all earnest sincerity. “You’re a really great actress.”

  I shifted uncomfortably. No one ever said things like that to me, except for maybe Mrs. Klein and Hannah, but they didn’t count because they were too nice for their own good.

  Jax was definitely not.

  I finally looked away. “It could have been better.” I frowned at Simone who was ducking her head and trying to sneak away. “Something was missing.”

  Was she right? Was I just showing the right emotions without actually feeling them? I wasn’t a method actor, by any means, but even I knew that to give a great performance you had to tap into real emotions. Embody it so wholeheartedly that the audience was forced to feel it with you.

  “Maybe she was right,” I said as we both watched Simone slip out the exit off stage left.

  He moved toward me and I tensed. “She’s right about a lot of things. For example, when she’d warned me that it would be complete idiocy to go along with that stupid challenge…”

  I met his gaze evenly.

  “She was right,” he said. “That was a mistake.”