Every Kiss

by Tasha Ivey

  “YOU’RE TELLING ME that you stayed the night at Wesley’s house last night? Are you kidding me?”

  I get why she’s stunned. I do. But she acts like I don’t know how to make responsible decisions for myself sometimes. “How did you not know this? I thought Wes called Shane.”

  “He did. But he only asked if I’d be coming home last night. He didn’t mention anything else about it. After that, he and Shane talked about what all they have to do Saturday.”

  I close my book and fall back on my bed. Finally finished with my homework, I’m more than ready for a nap. Makenna just now got home, so I’ve had most of the day to myself. I thought it would make an easy day to get my work done, but it’s been quite the contrary. Every time I move my hair, I catch a hint of Wes’ scent. Distracting doesn’t even begin to cover it. He’s been on my mind all day.

  True to his word, he woke me up early. He just didn’t know that I was awake as soon as he rolled out of the bed and walked into the closet. Let me say that the rerun is just as good as the first showing. Somehow, it was made even better by the fact that I watched it all from his bed.

  Half an hour later, he came into the room fully dressed, holding a mug of coffee. “Wake up, pretty girl.”

  “I’m awake,” I grumbled. “And my ego doesn’t like to be stroked this early in the morning.”

  He carefully set the mug down on the nightstand and leaned over me to speak softly into my ear. “Well, you won’t let me stroke anything else.”

  I snatched his pillow from the other side of the bed and whacked him with it, but it did nothing to stop his evil laughter. After I got up and dressed, he dropped me off on the way to work, just as planned. But the thing that I’ve been thinking about all day is the fact that he said he’d call me later.

  “So? Any details you want to share?” Makenna’s question jerks me back into the present. “You know, like all of them?”

  “I did homework. He cooked dinner. We ate it. I showered. I went to bed. That’s pretty much it.”

  She crosses her arms and sits at the end of my bed. “Define pretty much.”

  “There you go jumping to conclusions again.”

  “Callie,” she says with a cocked eyebrow, “I can read you. I may imagine my own ending sometimes, but I can tell when there’s a story there. Spill it.”

  “Well . . .” I begin, trying to decide what to say without her reading too much into it.

  She jumps up, slapping her hands together. “I knew it! I knew there was more to it than that. Let’s see. Last time it was nothing, he had kissed you. This time, you stay overnight at his house alone, so what could the big secret be? You did it, didn’t you?” She seems so sure of herself, but then again, she always does.

  “No. I told you we’re friends.” If I keep saying it, I’ll eventually believe it, right? “I woke up in the middle of the night during the storm, and he made me get in bed with him. Nothing happened. We slept.”

  Her face falls slightly. She hates being wrong, even though she usually is. “You’re seriously sticking to this friend thing, aren’t you? I mean, I’m not complaining. If you dated him and then broke up, it would be weird to have the two of you around Shane and me at the same time.”

  I shimmy out of my jeans and toss them to the end of my bed. “You and Shane are weird enough to be around. I’m not adding to it.”

  She stops my hands when I start pulling the sheet over myself. “Do you typically wear those panties when you’re staying over with a friend? Because I sure as hell haven’t ever seen them.”

  “I said we were friends. I didn’t say I wasn’t having some fun messing with his head a little bit.” I yank my arm free and lie back down, pulling the sheet up over my shoulders and curling onto my side. “He’s supposed to call me when he gets off work, so be a doll and wake me up in a couple of hours. I’m exhausted.”

  Thankfully, she takes my hint that I’m done talking about it, and she starts out of the room. “I will.”

  And like a truly good friend, she does.

  Now that she has woken me up, I lie here staring at the ceiling for a few minutes, trying to motivate myself to move. I’m still sleepy, but I feel much better. I finally make my way into the bathroom and splash some cool water on my face, an attempt at waking myself up a little more. I’m blotting my face dry when I hear Makenna come back in my room.

  “I’m up. I’m up.” I mumble through the towel.

  “So am I.”

  I shriek at the male voice, throwing my towel in its direction. “Damn you! You scared the hell out of me. What happened to you calling me?”

  Wes looks good. I saw him in his suit this morning, but he doesn’t have the jacket on now. His periwinkle dress shirt is unbuttoned at the top and his sleeves are rolled up.

  “Now that I know where you live, I just thought I’d stop by, so I can effectively use my skills of persuasion. Makenna didn’t happen to mention that you were . . . underdressed. Not that I’m complaining.”

  I look down at myself, still only wearing my beach t-shirt and those damn Victoria’s Secret panties. Oh hell, he’s seen everything I’ve got anyway. “What do you want, Wes?” Brushing past him, I grab the jeans from the foot of the bed and step into them.

  He seems completely unflappable. “I want you to come to the banquet this weekend. As my date. I normally drag Allison along to things I need a date for, but this is a classy event. I need a date that can live up to it. Besides, my mom told me that, if I bring her to another party, she’d make me sorry. I’m not afraid to admit that she scares me a little.”

  “What kind of event is it?” I manage to get the question out, past the rioting thoughts that he wants me to be his date.

  “I don’t know for sure.” He shrugs and tucks his thumbs into his pockets. “It’s something that has to do with my mom’s job, that’s all I know. She does these sorts of things all the time, and she expects Shane and me to attend when we can. It’ll be black tie.”

  “I can’t.” I turn the light on in my closet and scour the row of dresses. “I don’t have anything to wear to something like that.”

  Wes grabs my elbow and drags me from the closet. “Already covered. My mom knows you and Makenna are still in college, so she made arrangements with a dress shop that she uses. You’re to go there sometime tomorrow and pick one of them out. And before you argue with me, she’s not buying you a dress. She does a ton of business with that shop, and they’ve agreed to loan you a dress. I, however, am buying your shoes. Not negotiable. You just pick them out. They already have all of my information.”

  I’m floored. “I haven’t said ‘yes’ yet.”

  He rests both hands at either side of my neck and looks down into my eyes. “I’m not going to allow you to tell me ‘no.’” He waits for a moment, I think to see if I’ll argue. When I don’t, he pecks a little kiss on the top of my head. “I’ll be here to pick you up around four o’clock on Saturday, but you should make sure to have the whole day blocked out. You’ll see why tomorrow. Bye, Cal.”

  And he vanishes. While I stare at the open door in stunned silence, Makenna pops into the room in his place.

  “So . . . you’re going to the banquet as Wesley’s date. Why am I not surprised?”

  “Why am I not surprised that you let him in here, knowing that I wasn’t dressed?”

  “Oops.” She smirks. “You’re the one that said you were messing with his head. I’m just being helpful.”

  FRIDAYS ARE MY favorite day of the week. I do my classroom observations early in the morning, get out of class no later than two, and then I have plenty of time to read on the quad or go back to my dorm to veg out after a long week. Friday is the beginning of a new weekend, full of promise. Possibilities. But this Friday, I’m dreading all of it. The ridiculously expensive gowns. The people I don’t know.

  I look around the dress shop after Makenna and I walk inside, and I immediately feel out of place. Sure, I’ve been in shops similar to this before w
hen I was looking for prom dresses, but this one is a little more upscale. More glamorous. Even the ladies working in the shop look like they’re just as well off as their clients are. It’s a little off-putting, especially since I’m standing here in my usual jeans, t-shirt, and Chucks.

  “Good afternoon.” The one in head-to-toe black approaches us, her face completely unreadable. “How can I assist you today?”

  “Mrs. Baxter sent us here to find dresses for a banquet,” I answer when Makenna freezes.

  “Ah, yes.” Her expression softens as she looks down at her Blackberry. “Callie and Makenna. Follow me, darlings.”

  She leads us into a private dressing room, which happens to be the size of our entire dorm, and motions to a platform in front of a semicircle of floor-to-ceiling mirrors. “Please undress, but you can leave on your underthings. There are robes on those hooks over there. Mary Beth with be with you in a moment to take your measurements, and I’ll be back with some coffee and tea for you.”

  Makenna and I just look at each other in shock when she walks out the door. This is new territory for both of us, but we do as we’re told and strip. I no sooner than get my robe tied before there’s a soft rap at the door, and two sickly thin women walk in with measuring tapes. One at a time, we’re stripped and measured carefully before the beanpole twins disappear again, probably off to snicker about my twenty-seven inch waist.

  Again, I tie my robe and sit down, and I’m just about to tell Makenna how weird this place is, when there’s another knock. This time it’s a dress parade. Five different women rotate in and out of the room adding dresses to the two racks along the wall until each rack is nearly full.

  Finally, the last one steps out after explaining which rack is whose, and the one in black reappears with a tray of refreshments. “Would you like some help trying these on?”

  “Oh, no,” Makenna finds her voice. “We can help each other.”

  “Lovely.” She doesn’t look like she thinks it’s lovely. “If you need some assistance, just press the button by the door. It will alert one of us.”

  We both nod and rush to the racks, looking over each one as we get more and more excited. Every single one of them is gorgeous, but I know I’ve found “the one” as soon as I spot it. It’s a full-length strapless gown, slinky black with silver beading across the top of the bodice. The skirt doesn’t bell out; it falls straight, as straight as the slit stopping mid-thigh. With the right heels, this dress couldn’t be any more perfect. And once I try it on, it’s a flawless fit. God, those ladies may be skinny, but they know their dresses.

  “Why don’t they have anything pink?” Makenna whines from behind me. “I guess this plum one will have to work. Whoa, Cal. You look . . .” She fans at her eyes. “Good enough to make me cry.”

  “Jeez, Makenna, save all that for when one of us—likely you—is getting married. This is a banquet with borrowed dresses.” She bawled when we went prom dress shopping, too. She’s a habitual crier.

  After we’re both settled on dresses, the saleswoman reminds me that I’m supposed to get shoes, so she leads me into another room, measures my foot, and stacks six different pairs beside me on a little couch. I end up selecting a simple pair of glossy black platform peep-toe pumps with a five inch heel. I catch a glimpse of the $350 price tag as the saleswoman carries them away, and I nearly have a heart attack.

  I fish my phone out of my purse and send Wes a text. I can’t let him spend that kind of money on my shoes.

  Me: ‘I’m not letting you buy shoes. I’ll find some less expensive ones somewhere else. But thank you for the sweet offer.’

  He immediately replies.

  Wes Baxter: ‘Nonsense, Cal. I’m paying for the damn shoes. If I was worried about the money, I wouldn’t have offered.’

  I don’t know how to take his reply. Is he offended, thinking that I implied he can’t afford them?

  Wes Baxter: ‘You can show me your appreciation tomorrow.’

  Nevermind. He’s not offended. Probably just stuck in Sexy Suit CEO mode since he’s at the office.

  Me: ‘Much safer to show you now. You can consider yourself thoroughly appreciated. Thank you.’

  The saleswoman meets us up front with my shoes and our dresses safely stored in zippered bags. “Please give us a call tomorrow if you run into any issues with the dresses. We can always make some minor last-minute alterations. Oh, and Mr. Baxter asked me to give these envelopes to you before you leave. Enjoy your banquet, ladies.”

  Makenna makes a weird face as we exit. “Mr. Baxter? Doesn’t she know there are three of them? Which one?”

  But when I look down at my name scrawled across the front, I know exactly which one.

  CHECKING THE TIME, I reapply my lip gloss and make sure my hair is in place. This has been unlike any Saturday I can remember. I expected today to be nerve wrecking, but it ended up being quite relaxing. I didn’t have to do a thing other than tell people what I wanted. It was an oddly empowering thing.

  The envelopes we received yesterday held certificates to a day spa, promising a day of massages, manicures, pedicures, hair styling, and makeup. All courtesy of Wes. I didn’t mention to Makenna that mine had an additional note tucked inside. I’ll keep that my little secret.

  Callie,

  You don’t need any of this to be beautiful, but you deserve to be pampered for putting up with me. Thanks for agreeing to be my date. And for saving me from my mom’s wrath.

  Until tomorrow,

  Wes.

  If it hadn’t been for the sweet first line, I might have shown it to Makenna, but as it stands, she’d read way too much into it. Despite what he says, he’s naturally flirty, and that’s all that is.

  “Callie, they’re here!” I hear Makenna’s favorite stilettos clicking on the floor as she darts through the kitchen. The front door squeaks as it opens, and I hear the deep reverberation of their voices carrying through our dorm. It’s that sound that releases the swarm of butterflies.

  Taking a deep breath, I step into my shoes—loving that I’m immediately taller—and take one last look in the mirror. Everything looks as good as it can possibly get, but I’m suddenly rethinking my hair. I opted to leave most of it down in cascading, loose curls to cover my exposed back, but now I’m wondering if I should’ve had it all up. I don’t know if I look formal enough.

  “Wow. You’re stunning.” Wes catches me off-guard. In so many ways. I’ve seen him in suit, but a tuxedo on him is . . . damn. I never thought a little black bow tie could be so sexy.

  I try to regain my bearings by teasing him. “Don’t you ever knock?”

  “No. Real friends don’t have to.”

  God, those eyes. That insanely perfect smile. Is he trying to kill me? “Ready to go?”

  He screws up his face and looks at me funny. “Something’s missing.” He looks under the curtain of hair at my ears before digging in his pocket and pulling out a small, flat velvet box.

  I’m sure the look of horror sweeping across my face does nothing but amuse him. “Uh.”

  “Relax. Just open it.” When I don’t take it from him, he flips the lid open, revealing a teardrop shaped onyx pendant on a sterling silver chain with matching earrings. It somehow matches my dress perfectly, including the silver beading. “Don’t overheat your brain. I had the woman at the dress shop send me a picture of the dress, so I could get you something that matches. It’s yours to keep. Another little ‘thank you’ for coming with me.”

  “Who are you?”

  He just laughs at me, this time unfazed by the question. He twirls a finger in the air until I turn around, and he clasps the necklace, lifting my hair around it when he’s done. “You’ll have to do the earrings. I don’t know how they work.”

  Wes watches as I put them in, cringing a little as I poke them through the holes in my earlobes. “As always. Beautiful.”

  “Thank you, but Wes, I can’t accept—”

  “Don’t even start that,” he interrupts.
“You can and you will. Now let’s get out of here before Shane and Makenna end up in her fuzzy, pink bedroom and make us late.”

  FOR SOME REASON, I thought the banquet would be held at his parents’ house, but it’s actually in a convention center. After a long hour of admiring the extravagant décor and listening to animated speeches, I still don’t know what the purpose of the whole thing is. Wes and Shane have been busy mingling with the guests as they were told, while Makenna and I sip water from crystal glasses at a table in the back corner as we watch everyone.

  Obviously, everyone in this room has money. A lot of it. And I feel really out of place. My parents aren’t poor, quite the contrary, really. My dad is an engineer and my mom is a dermatologist. They do okay. But these people make me feel like I’m a hobo on the street, and I don’t like it.

  “Callie, I want you to come with me and meet someone.” Wes appears at my side and takes my glass from me, setting it down on the table.

  I stand and look back at Makenna, who is now being whisked away by Shane. “Oh, okay. Who is it?”

  “My mom.”

  Shaking my head, I back away from him. “No, no, no. I don’t think I need to do that.”

  “Why the hell not? She wants to meet you.”

  “I’m nervous,” I admit. “All of this . . .” I point around the room. “This isn’t me.”

  He leans close and whispers in my ear, his warm breath puffing against my hair. “I’ll let you in on a little secret. It’s not her favorite either. Come on.”

  Resigned, I allow him to lead me away, surprised when he stops to grab two glasses of champagne from a server’s tray. With both tucked between the fingers of one hand, he continues across the room until he pushes through a door leading to an empty ballroom. It appears to be decorated for a wedding reception or something. The only light comes from the thousands of little twinkling bulbs strung across the high ceiling.