The Keatyn Chronicles: Books 1-3: (Stalk Me, Kiss Me, and Date Me)

by Jillian Dodd

  But the way he's got his body pushed up against me, I know he’s not playing around. "You better get us somewhere more private then."

  He drives to the park where the lake is and pulls off in a desolate treed area. The kind of place where people get killed in horror movies.

  The second I get out of the car, he full on attacks me. Pushes my back up against the passenger door. Then he picks me up, wraps my legs around his waist, and cups my butt in his hands. He brings his lips down harshly on mine as he pushes into me.

  Dawson talks about nothing on the short ride back to school but how amazing it was. How different it felt without a condom. How amazing he feels.

  When he walks me to my door, he says, “I wish you could sleep with me.”

  “Why don’t you come sleep with me?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Like, sneak out of your room, sneak in my window and sleep, actually sleep, tonight. We can set my alarm for four or something, and you can sneak back to your room. Katie sleeps hard. If you’re quiet, I don’t think she’ll even know.”

  At one o’clock he crawls through my window. “You’re sure you set the alarm for 4:30, right?”

  “Right.”

  “What do you have on?” He runs his hands slowly across my body like he’s blind and I’m braille.

  What I’m wearing is sleep shorts and a tank top. What I say is, “Armor.”

  He laughs. “Don’t worry. You wore me out tonight.” He kisses softly down the side of my neck, “Well, sorta, I mean I could probably do it again if you wanted to.”

  I pull him into bed with me. “Dawson, go to sleep.”

  Wednesday, September 21st

  I’d bite you. Make you mine.

  5:45pm

  In French today, Aiden seems like he has gotten over his little tantrum or whatever, so I agree to meet him tonight to study. We’ve just finished up our homework, and I’m standing by his desk, throwing my workbook in my bag.

  “Okay, so I gotta go meet Aiden.”

  “But I'm right here, Boots.”

  “What?”

  “You said you have to go meet Aiden.”

  “No, I didn’t. I said Dawson.”

  “No. You said Aiden. Your subconscious wants to be with me.”

  “It does not. I’m just distracted.”

  “I distract you, huh?”

  He gets up off his bed and stands right next to me. Distracting the shit out of me. But I say, “No.”

  My hair is up in a high ponytail today and Aiden moves his face in close to my neck.

  “You have a pretty neck.”

  “What? No. It’s too long,” I scoff.

  “Naw, it’s almost regal,” he says, as his lips move closer.

  “Maybe for the Queen of Giraffes,” I joke.

  “I've never kissed your neck.” He puts his hand on the side of my head and pushes it slightly. “Tilt your head.”

  I do as he asks. I know I shouldn’t. I should run away. But it’s impossible to resist an order from a god.

  He takes the tip of his finger and glides it from just underneath my earlobe to my collarbone. He blinks lazily and then puts his lips like our almost kisses. He is as close as he can possibly get to my neck without actually touching it.

  And even though his lips don't touch, occasionally, he accidentally—or on purpose, maybe; who knows a god’s train of thought on this—touches it with his cheek.

  I can feel some stubble on his cheek. He hasn’t shaved in a few days and the hair is so light it’s barely visible, but just that little bit of scruff looks so sexy on him. It changes his perfect face from a work of art to something of museum quality. It makes his beautiful face look more angular and masculine. And even though scruff usually scratches my face, his feels soft against my neck.

  Have you ever rubbed a balloon across your hair and made it stick straight up? That's how my whole body feels. All my nerve endings, or synapses—really, I don’t even know what a synapse is exactly; I think it’s in the nerve family . . . Whatever, they are all sticking straight up like balloon-rubbed hair.

  He’s still at my neck when he says, “Too bad I'm not a vampire. I’d bite you. Make you mine.”

  “Trust me. You don't want me. Dawson tried to give me the key to his heart. I wouldn’t take it.”

  “Is that why he’s wearing that key necklace?”

  “Yeah, he’s wearing it until I change my mind. And I don’t know why I keep waiting. I didn’t wait for anything else.”

  I hope to piss him off with my reference to sex with Dawson, so he will move his powerful lips away from me.

  Instead he whispers, “Just because sex is good with someone, doesn't mean you’re destined to be with them. Imagine what it will be like with the guy you’re really supposed to be with. Your true love.”

  When he speaks, his lips graze my neck a few times.

  “You’re touching my neck. With your lips,” I say raggedly. I can barely breathe when he’s this close to me.

  “I’m talking. Not kissing. It doesn’t count.”

  And I don't know where this comes from—not from rational thought, obviously—but I make a little breathless moan and say, “Talk some more.”

  I feel his mouth form a smile on my neck.

  “Remember what I told you? In French. Your lips are my bliss?”

  Then he speaks it in French. His lips grazing my neck with each syllable.

  I forget who I am.

  I forget where I am.

  I have but one solitary thought.

  Those lips must be on me.

  “Aiden, come here.”

  “I'm here.”

  I grab his face. “No, like, do that to my lips. The not-kissing-kiss.”

  “It won’t be enough. You want to kiss me, don’t you?”

  Do I? No. Yes. No. I like Dawson. I don’t like Aiden. I don’t love Aiden. I can’t. I shouldn’t. But I’m weak when he’s this close to me, so I mutter out, “Uh, huh.”

  He slowly moves his lips up my neck and next to my waiting mouth. His lips are just a quarter of a millimeter—no, more like a gnat’s ass—away from touching me. I lean forward and brush them with mine.

  He backs away quickly.

  “Boots, Boots. I can't kiss you. Not when you’re dating Dawson.”

  Screeeech! All nerve endings feel like they were just in a car wreck. They just hit a tree and the airbags failed to deploy. And I’m pretty sure they just went through the windshield. The nerves come to a sudden horrifying stop.

  And I feel like I have whiplash.

  “I hate you.”

  Why didn’t you tell me?

  7:30pm

  Dawson is kissing me very enthusiastically. And I’m not really that into it. The almost-kisses with Aiden have made me distracted. And I have no idea why.

  Yes, actually, I do. I’m mad. Mad he would tempt me. Mad at myself for falling for his little godly tricks of seduction.

  “What’s wrong?” Dawson asks me.

  “I just got done tutoring Aiden, so my French homework is done, but I still have Math and an English essay to write. I don’t know why they have to pile on all this homework at once.”

  “Wait? The person you are tutoring is Aiden?”

  “Uh, yeah, you know that.”

  “Uh, no. I did not. You didn’t tell me. Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I thought I did. Everyone knows I’ve been tutoring Aiden. It’s not a secret.”

  “Well, you didn’t tell me. He has a crush on you.” He squints his eyes at me. “Has he been hitting on you?”

  Has Aiden been hitting on me?

  No.

  Really, he hasn’t.

  What he’s been doing is more in line with godly torture.

  “I don’t know. Maybe sometimes a little. Mostly he just succeeds in pissing me off. He sucks at French. Almost failed last year, I guess, but he needs it to go to whatever Ivy League college he wants to play soccer at or whatever. And h
e knows he has to behave or I will quit and he’d be stuck, so it’s fine. We’re kind of getting to be friends. Especially now that he’s on the Social Committee.”

  “He got on the Social Committee too?”

  “Yeah, I thought you were going to?”

  “Why did he get on the Social Committee?”

  “Uh, oh, well, I kinda asked him to.”

  “But you didn't ask me?”

  “I told you when I first met you that you should get on it, but you didn’t, so I didn’t think you wanted to. And I asked him in the hopes that if he was in there, Whitney might stop hating on me. And I didn’t think you could help with that. I needed a buffer. I mean, I had to dance ten more songs with him, but then he did it.”

  Shit. Why did I just say that?

  “You danced with him?”

  “Yes. Gosh that all sounds kinda bad, doesn’t it?”

  “Um, yeah, it does. Do you still like him?”

  “No. I like you. ”

  “But I’m still wearing the key.”

  I sigh. I really don’t want to have this conversation right now. He obviously has no idea how exhausting it can be to fight off a god’s power. But I care about Dawson. I do. I don’t know if I love him, but I do know I don’t want to lose him.

  “Dawson, you make me happy. We have fun together and the sex is amazing.”

  “But . . .”

  “But I’m a little skittish about professing love. You know that it hasn’t worked out so well for me in the past. It didn’t work out that great for you either. I like you a lot, Dawson. Can’t that be enough for now?”

  I kiss down his neck. Kiss my way across the chain. Kiss the key. And wish I could let myself fall for him.

  He pulls me in for a tight hug. “I like you a lot too, Keatie. And, yeah, it’s enough for now.”

  Thursday, September 22nd

  Your panties are yellow.

  English

  Dallas and I are walking to English. “So how’s the sex kitten doing?”

  “What?”

  “You know what I’m talking about,” he laughs and flits his eyebrows up and down.

  “No, let’s talk about you, Mr. I’m Talking To Eight Girls. What else are you doing with them and how many more pairs of panties have you gotten?”

  He looks at me, his eyes serious. “You know I’ve never done it, right?”

  “Actually, no. You didn’t tell me that.” I can’t hide my surprise. “You’re a really good kisser.”

  “Well, I’ve had a lot of practice at that,” he grins. “And the Panties for the Poor drive is going quite well. You’d be surprised at how many offers I’ve had.”

  “So why haven’t you?”

  “I’m holding out for you.”

  I roll my eyes at him.

  “Fine,” he says. “Maybe I want it to mean something.”

  “Really? That’s really cool. I didn’t think most guys were like that.”

  “Yeah, well, I’m more than just your boy toy,” he laughs.

  “Anyone seem like they have potential?”

  “A couple, but I’m not talking to them.”

  “Really, who?”

  “You know I think Katie’s really cool, but she likes Tyrese, I guess.”

  He looks bummed.

  “Yeah, but I don’t think that’s gonna last.”

  “What about you and Dawes? You gonna last?”

  “I hope so.”

  “Dang, you’re my back-up plan. I was thinking about getting you drunk, making it special.”

  “You’re hilarious.”

  One of those moments.

  French

  I’m in class a few minutes early. Kym just texted me to let me know she has some dresses for Homecoming on hold for me and sends me the list of stores where they are. I see Miss Praline out of the corner of my eye making a beeline for my desk.

  Shit! She can’t take my phone from me now, can she? Class hasn’t even started!

  She stands in front of my desk. I don’t try to hide my phone; instead, I put on my sweetest and most innocent face.

  “Keatyn, I’m handing back the tests today.”

  “Uh, okay.” That’s not what I was expecting her to say.

  “Do you want to know what Aiden got?”

  “I don’t know. Did he do okay? We’ve really been working hard. I thought he would at least pass.”

  “Keatyn, look!” She whips out his test from behind her back. There is a huge red circle on the front. Inside the circle is a large, red C plus.

  I’m immediately disappointed. “Oh, wow. I’m sorry. We’ll have to work harder.”

  She gets a big grin. “Work harder?! Do you have any idea how excited he’s going to be? He failed every test last year. If it weren’t for daily grades, extra credit, and a special project I let him do, he never would’ve passed. This is amazing!”

  As more people walk in, she goes, “Shhhh.”

  Aiden rolls in right before the bell rings.

  And even though I’m still mad at him, I turn around and say, “We get our tests back today. How do you think you did?”

  He groans.

  Miss Praline makes us wait until the very end of class to hand back our tests.

  The bell has already rung. She hands me my test. Apparently tutoring Aiden has hurt my grades because I got an A minus.

  She puts Aiden’s test down on his desk, just as I am standing up, and says, “Good job, Aiden.”

  I turn around and look at him. His eyes go wide with shock. Then he jumps up, grabs me, lifts me up in the air and twirls me around. “We did it! I got a C! I passed!”

  Then, for a second . . .

  As he slides me back down his body and sets my feet back on the floor, it happens.

  Another one of those moments.

  Where we just stare into each other’s eyes.

  But then Annie groans, the mood is broken, and I forget why I was mad at him in the first place.

  She mutters, “Shit. I got a C too.”

  I guess it’s all about your perspective.

  Aiden is walking me out of class, excitedly talking about his grade. Dawson is waiting for me outside the building.

  Aiden points to me and says to Dawson, “Dude, she’s awesome!”

  Then he high fives me and bounces away happily.

  “What was that all about?” Dawson asks.

  “You know the test we studied so hard for, the other night, when you were mad at me?”

  “Yeah?”

  “He got a C plus.”

  “That sucks. Why’s he so excited?”

  “He’s failed every one of his tests until I started helping him.”

  “Oh, so a C is good?”

  “Yeah, but we’ve still got a lot of work to do.”

  “So the tutoring wasn’t just an excuse to hang out with you? Peyton told me he’s really smart. Sorry, I just, it seemed weird.”

  “Speaking of weird, your brother was telling me about something today.” I whisper something into his ear. Something Riley says is supposed to drive a woman crazy.

  He runs his hand through his hair. “Jeez, Keatie, pretty soon I’m gonna be failing. That’s all I’m gonna be able to think about today.”

  Then I remember I have a meeting tonight.

  “Oh, wait. I have a Social Committee meeting tonight at 6:30. And it might go late. The dean is going with us. We have a lot to plan. Don’t tell anyone, but we may have something really cool planned for Homecoming. You’ll love it.”

  “Tell me.”

  “Okay, but you can’t tell anyone until we get it all approved.” He kisses me in agreement. “I think we’re gonna have an after-party. At a club. From midnight until six the next morning. Dancing, VIP section, great DJ. It’s gonna be really fun.”

  “That does sound fun. That your idea?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I think it sounds amazing, but let’s go back to your other idea.”

  Mesmerized by
my tongue.

  8:50pm

  Our dinner meeting is quite productive. I knew the dean was coming with us to hear our plans, so I decided to wear a really cute dress. It’s got a chestnut leather bodice with a breezy black pleated skirt. I paired it with some funky heavily-studded midcalf boots. A Fendi ponyhair baguette bag. And a necklace I ordered online recently that is made from recycled items. It has a vintage brass number four on it, for my sisters.

  He had already given us his blessing for the project, but tonight he offers to send an email not just to the current students’ parents but to all the alumni asking for donations. Which means our Homecoming after-party is going to rock.

  After dinner, Aiden offers me a ride back to school. He leads me to a beautiful creamy white Maserati GrandTurismo MC that I have always admired at school but never knew who it belonged to. I know it has special order paint called Bianco Fuji as well as twenty-inch black Astro wheels. Tommy is seriously obsessed with cars, and the knowledge must have worn off on me.

  Aiden opens the passenger door and I slide onto a black leather seat with custom white contrast stitching.

  “Nice car,” I say.

  He nods his head humbly. “Thanks. Do you want to stop for some ice cream?”

  “Sure,” I say excitedly, but then he tells me wants to talk about our dreams. “I thought there had to be weed or alcohol involved for you to tell me about your dreams.”

  “I didn’t say there were dreams. I said a dream.”

  “Oh, sorry. Semantics.”

  “Well, I don’t want you to think I sit around and dream about you all day long.”

  We get ice cream cones and sit outside eating them.

  I take a big lick. “This is good,” I tell him. “Thanks for stopping.”

  “Oh, thank you,” he says, apparently mesmerized by my tongue.

  Ha. It’s good to know I have a little power of my own. I like it when Aiden seems like a normal boy. Makes him easier for me to deal with.

  “Thank me for what?” I say and then slowly move my tongue around the base of the cone.