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Kiss Cam (With A Kiss Book 1)

Page 23

by Anie Michaels


  “Okay, seriously, what’s going on?”

  “I don’t know, I thought it would be kind of fun to come back to the place it all began. Come with me.”

  He held his hand out to me and I took it—of course—and followed as he led me up into the stands. He looked as though he knew exactly where he was going, so I followed without question. Finally, he brought me in front of a seat and told me to sit down. I did, carefully so as not to spill my beer. Once I was settled, I smiled up at him, watching as he took the seat next to me.

  “This is it.” Turning to look at me, his face lit up with a sweet smile, I couldn’t help but lean over to kiss him.

  “This is what?” I asked, my mouth still pressed against his.

  “This is where we were sitting that night. I was here, you were there, and you couldn’t stop looking at my thighs, you were eavesdropping on my date breaking up with me, and then you fell madly in love with me.”

  “Oh, that’s how you think it went down?” I said dreamily, leaning my head against his shoulder and taking a pull from my Hef.

  “That’s the best version of the story. The part where you run away from me makes everyone sad. It was a bad move on your part.”

  “Clearly.”

  “Hey, look,” he said, pointing up to the roof of the arena. “We’re on the Kiss Cam.”

  I looked up and, sure enough, the Jumbotron was lit up and flashing the words KISS CAM, below which was a live video feed of us.

  “Did you set this all up?” It totally sounded like something he would do. He had all these strings he could pull, and if he didn’t know someone personally who could help him, he’d seek someone out and charm the fucking pants off them to get what he wanted. I was exhibit A of that argument.

  “I did. Does that earn me a kiss?”

  I scoffed at him. “No. I believe I paid you a vast amount of money, and therefore, I shouldn’t be the one putting out tonight. I expect to do very little work tonight and reap a ton of reward.”

  He smiled at me, and I knew it was because I was arguing with him and he got off on it. I smiled back because I got off on it too.

  When his lips met mine, it was exactly like the first time. He was tentative at first, barely brushing his mouth over mine, but then he dove in and took everything he wanted from me. My hands slid into his hair and his arm wrapped around my waist. When he sucked my lower lip into his mouth, I groaned. That must have flipped some sort of switch for him, because suddenly his arm around my waist tightened and I was being lifted into his lap. He brought my legs to either side of him, leaving me to straddle him. It wasn’t the worst thing in the world, but in the commotion, I dropped my beer on the floor of the arena. His hands came to my face, holding my mouth right where he wanted it, and I moaned again, feeling his thighs beneath me.

  He had me in one of my favorite positions, but usually I preferred to be naked when I straddled him. The fact that I was wearing clothes totally didn’t stop me from rocking back and forth against him. I pictured what we must look like up on the Jumbotron and I almost stopped, embarrassed of what someone would think, but then I realized that it was really fucking sexy and I wanted so badly to turn around and look, but I didn’t want to stop kissing him.

  “Fuck, I love you, Riley,” he said as he moved his mouth to my neck, licking, biting, and kissing his way down and across my collarbone. His hands moved down over my ass, pulling me even closer to him, forcing my core to rub against the bulge in his pants. “Jesus Christ, baby,” he hissed, keeping one hand on my ass and moving the other to my breast, cupping it over my blouse.

  “Maybe,” I said, but had to stop to bite my lip to keep in a loud moan as I rocked against him. “Maybe we should skip the tour and the game and go home. I’d like to be naked right now.”

  “No,” he said against my chest where he was panting. “We can’t go home. This was fifty thousand dollars. And Joshua Baxter is expecting us.”

  “Weirdly, you saying another man’s name while I’m trying to orgasm makes the need totally go away.” I looked at him, and he laughed, pressing his forehead against my chest again.

  “Come on, let’s go wait by the locker room.” He tapped my backside, so I gave him one last kiss and then eased my way off his lap.

  “I dropped my beer,” I said, my tone forlorn.

  “It’s okay, baby. I have five more.”

  “There’s the way into my heart.”

  He laughed and took my hand, leading me back down to the floor. We walked silently through the arena, his fingers entwined with mine, and I had a moment of overwhelming love for Camden. It happened often, actually. We’d be somewhere together, or even when we were apart, and it would crash over me, like a tidal wave, how much I loved him. I leaned into him and without missing a beat he took my weight, and we continued that way through the darkened hallways.

  “Can you believe it’s been three months since that party? I’ve been looking forward to this night for so long.” I looked up at him, smiling, and watched as he leaned back against the wall next to the doors that said Locker Room above them. He set the beer on the floor and then pulled me to stand between his legs.

  “Why? To meet a player?”

  I shrugged, leaning farther into him. “I like being here with you. It’s nice.”

  He pushed a loose strand of hair behind my ear, giving me the sweetest smile he had, and I rested my cheek against his palm.

  The door to the locker rooms opened and I tried to pry my mouth off the floor when Joshua Baxter walked out, beaming at us. He introduced himself and I mumbled my way through my name, giggling like a little girl. He didn’t seem fazed by it though. He was probably used to fans being all stupid around him.

  He led us on an amazing tour and we each got jerseys from the store and I nearly fainted when Joshua signed mine. He walked us to our suite, thanking us for our amazing donation to Angel House, and then left us with a huge gift basket of swag and our own personal bartender. He had to warm up for the game, and I was sad to see him go—not before I took a ton of selfies with him, of course—but once we were alone, I had the epic freak out I’d been holding in for the past hour.

  “That was amazing,” I squealed, jumping up and down. “I can’t believe Joshua Baxter laughed at one of my jokes!” I hopped up and down, finally able to release all the pent-up excitement. “And he was so nice! I didn’t even feel like he was just fulfilling an obligation, he was genuinely glad to show us around! I love him even more now,” I said, putting my hand on my heart.

  “So it’s the perfect night?”

  “Perfect,” I replied, dreamily.

  “Worth 50K?”

  “Definitely.”

  “Good.”

  He was so stupidly handsome when he smiled, especially when the smile was only there because I was smiling. He was so genuinely happy when I was happy, it made me happier, and it continued in some sick, twisted, insanely sweet, happy cyclical pattern.

  “I love you,” I said, wrapping my arms around his neck. “Thank you for having a crazy ex who broke up with you at a Renegades game and then followed you around like a sick puppy and tried to break us up, forcing me to spend fifty thousand of your stepfather’s dollars in a figurative pissing match against her.”

  “Aw, you’re welcome, baby. No one pisses better than you.”

  “Truer words were never spoken.”

  “Kiss me,” he said with a smile.

  “Anytime.”

  The suites were rather posh. The one we were in might have been nicer since it was the owner’s, but regardless of how amazing the others were, I was convinced watching basketball games in the suites was the best way to go from here on out. You could either sit in a spacious, comfortable room, in plush chairs, watching the game on large television screens, or you could sit at the bar and watch, or you could even go out onto the veranda. Camden and I took our drinks and our snacks and made our way out onto the veranda. I preferred to watch the game with the other fans. Sure, we
were a good ten feet from them, but I still wanted to feel like I was a part of the game, and it was hard to do that from a recliner in the back of the suite.

  Halftime rolled around and, of course, the Renegades were winning, so I took a few minutes to load a picture of me with my new bestie Joshua to Instagram. Some hopeful was out on the floor trying to make a half-court shot for ten thousand dollars. He missed, but they gave him a T-shirt, so he seemed pleased with that. The overhead lights dimmed a little, and a spotlight started zooming around the arena.

  Everyone started clapping and hollering as the Kiss Cam came on the Jumbotron.

  A year before, if you’d asked me how I felt about the Kiss Cam, I’d have told you it was the worst part of the whole basketball game experience. But now, as I sat next to Camden and watched people who loved each other kiss—whether they be friends, lovers, family, or even strangers—it made me think about kissing the man I loved and how all it took was that one kiss.

  So when the Jumbotron flashed a live photo of us on the screen again, I laughed, thinking the odds of that happening more than once were slim to none, but I kissed him nonetheless. He held me against him, making the kiss slow but sweet, and when he finally pulled away, it was only far enough to press his forehead against mine.

  “Riley,” he whispered, his voice strange and shaky.

  “Yeah?” Something was wrong with him. He seemed nervous, and he never got nervous.

  “I have something I want to ask you.”

  Suddenly the entire arena went berserk. Everyone was yelling and screaming, clapping and stomping. I had no idea what was going on, only that Camden was slowly making his way to the ground.

  “What’s wrong?” I yelled over the enormous volume of the crowd.

  “That’s just it, Riley. Everything is right.” Suddenly, it occurred to me what was happening. Camden was on one knee and behind him, I could see the Jumbotron where the words Kiss Cam had been replaced with Engagement Cam. I looked back down at him and he’d produced a ring from somewhere and was holding it up to me, a wide and nervous smile still on his stupidly handsome face. “I love you, Riley. I love you more than I ever imagined I could ever love someone else. And I know it’s only been six months since we started dating, but every day we spend together only cements for me that I only want to do this with you. I will never find another crazy person I want to spend all my time with, share all my beer with, and beat every time at Skee-Ball. Will you, please, say you’ll marry me and make me the happiest fucking man on this planet?”

  The crowd was chanting “SAY YES SAY YES SAY YES” and my heart was beating out of my chest, but the only thing running through my brain was “Of course. Yes.”

  In an instant he was standing and I was in his arms, being kissed stupid. The arena erupted into thunderous applause, practically shaking the whole building. He gently put me down and slipped a beautiful and perfect ring on my finger, then leaned in for another kiss.

  “I love you,” he whispered against my ear. I pulled back so I could hold his face and look into his eyes.

  “I love you too. So much.”

  “More than Hef?” he asked, smiling.

  “Definitely more than Hef.”

  More Books by Anie Michaels

  The Never Series

  Never Close Enough

  Never Far Away

  Never Giving Up

  Never Standing Still

  Never Tied Down

  The Love and Loss Series

  The Absence of Olivia

  The Presence of Grace

  Stand Alone Novels

  The Space Between Us

  Instead of You

  The Private Serials

  With A Kiss Series

  Kiss Cam

  How to reach Anie

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  Acknowledgements

  I would first like to thank AJ Harmon and Heather Carver for inviting me to be a part of the Passion in Portland anthology that inspired me to create Riley and Camden in the first place.

  Big thanks to all my beta readers – Andrea, Rachel, Michelle, Danielle, Joanne, Ali, and Becca. Also, thanks to Andrea, Stefanie, and Kelly for your assistance during the final stages and helping me find the errors that no one else’s eyes could find.

  To all the readers in my group, Reading With Anie, I am so grateful to have a place to share my ideas and just talk books. Reading is my therapy and I’m so happy you’re all there to be my therapists.

  To Anie’s Awesome Teamsters – I would not be half as sane as I am without you all (and I’m not terribly sane to begin with). I know I post some crazy stuff and ask a lot of you, but it really is the biggest help and deepest well of advice I have available to me. Thank you for all your opinions and for sharing them with me.

  Thanks to Cassy Roop at Pink Ink Designs for creating the cover for Kiss Cam – it’s everything I wanted the cover to be.

  Thanks to Lindy Zart for always being available to answer questions and give advice when I am unsure and need someone to push me over the edge.

  And Becca, again, for not only your friendship, but also all the help you offer me. From advice on cover decisions, to beta reading, to teasers, I couldn’t do this without you.

  Read on for a look at the first chapter of Instead of You, Anie Michaels’s new adult, student teacher romance.

  Chapter One

  Cory’s Sixteenth Birthday

  McKenzie

  Like any other day of tenth grade, I spent my lunch break sitting on the brick wall that lined the school property. It was only four feet tall and easy enough to hop onto, and that’s where we sat, every day, and ate our lunch. Except today. I was alone. Today was January 10, and Cory was noticeably absent because his brother had taken him to get his driver’s license. Well, assuming he passed. If he didn’t pass it would be ridiculous as I’d taken the test two days earlier, on my sixteenth birthday, and told him all of the questions and answers. I’d also spent the last month studying with him. He had to pass.

  Halfway through lunch, Hayes’s familiar Mustang pulled into the parking lot. As it drove closer I could make out both Hayes and Cory in the front of the car, Cory in the driver seat. I tried not to get too excited—just because he was driving didn’t mean he’d passed. The tinted windows wouldn’t give me any more clues, so I waited impatiently for the car to pull all the way up the circular drive, my heart thumping wildly as it came to a stop right in front of me.

  When Cory’s door flew open and his smiling face popped up over, I knew he’d passed.

  “I did it,” he said, one fist pumping into the air above his head.

  “I knew you could,” I said, trying to match his smile.

  Cory came around the hood of the Mustang, practically bouncing. It never really got too cold here in the winters, which was why we could eat our lunch outside even in January, but Cory was wearing his signature brown leather jacket that only intensified the blond of his hair. Surely the Florida sun had something to do with his hair color, because he was a stark contrast to his brother.

  Hayes stepped out of the Mustang, and I was looking at Cory’s antithesis. Where Cory was on the shorter side, Hayes was close to six foot two. Where Cory had light blond, short, manageable hair, Hayes’s hair was dark, longer than it needed to be, and quite unruly. Cory was lean and light, running track and swimming the backstroke for the high school swim team, and Hayes was, well, built. Hayes was not wearing a jacket and even though I tried desperately to avoid it, my eyes always seemed to find his biceps.

  “Hey, Kenzie,” Hayes called as he walked around the front of his car.

  “Hi,” I replied, smiling. I’d known him my whole life, but I didn’t know him nearly as well as I knew Cory. �
��Did you come home for Cory’s birthday?”

  “Yeah. Mom would have killed me if I missed my little brother’s sweet sixteen.” His smile was playful and knowing.

  “Only girls have sweet sixteens, Hayes.” Cory rolled his eyes, obviously irritated by his older brother.

  “Was yours a sweet sixteen, Kenzie?” He’d stopped outside his door, arms folded on the roof of his Mustang, biceps bulging.

  “Yeah” was the only thing I could say in response. I was afraid if I said anything else it would be, “Yeah, biceps.” Hayes gave me a knowing grin and I felt my cheeks heat, so I looked down at my sandwich.

  “Bye, Hayes,” Cory said with irritation.

  “Later, kids.” I watched as the Mustang roared out of the parking lot, and I couldn’t help but give a relieved sigh. Recently, Hayes always managed to put me on edge. It was unnerving. Luckily, I only saw him when colleges were on break. He was twenty now and attended Central Florida University two hours away. About the same time he started making me nervous was when he left for college. I remember, sadly, being glad when he finally left for good. Being around him and Cory was confusing for me.

  Cory hopped up onto the wall next to me and held out the brand-new shiny plastic license that looked exactly like the one I’d earned two days previously.

  “I can’t believe we both passed.” His words were quiet but full of wistfulness. “We’re both sixteen, we both have our license, it’s like the one day we’ve been waiting for since, well, since we were twelve.”

  Sixteen was a big deal to most teenagers. But sixteen for Cory and me held an unprecedented weight. To say our mothers had built a fantasy around Cory and me dating would have been a massive understatement. It was expected. A forgone conclusion. However, when Cory and I hit a certain age, my father stepped in, forbidding me to date until I was sixteen.

  I was so thankful for his rule. Grateful that the decision to date Cory would be put off for a few more years, that I wouldn’t have to worry about how I felt until then. But now, it was then. I was sixteen and so was Cory.

 

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