Passionate Kisses 2 Boxed Set: Love in Bloom

by Magda Alexander

  Until she wasn’t.

  The pendulum swung back, and she started to cry again.

  Her senior year in high school had been a really, really fun time. She had come into her own and participated in everything. She’d have hated to miss any of it, especially if she’d had to watch it from the sidelines.

  Lane had already been voted onto the Homecoming court. It wasn’t like he could skip the dance. As Mr. L. so indelicately put it, it wasn’t like Lane was going to be taking Vivi to the prom.

  Even if she’d stayed for a senior year at Wake Forest, he wouldn’t have taken her to his prom. Or Homecoming. Or anything.

  They might be two years apart in age, but from the angle she was looking at their relationship right now, they seemed to be years apart in life. And she never, ever wanted Lane Kettering to look back on his life and feel like she’d robbed him of something as significant as his senior year in high school.

  Yeah, Vivi saw the writing on the wall and could no longer avoid it. Their relationship had to end, and her heart knew it was going to end badly.

  Lane tried reaching Vivi through Skype at nine o’clock. He tried again five minutes later. At ten after, he picked up his phone and texted her.

  Nothing.

  Bossy Miss DuVal was punctual. Every time. All the time. No exceptions.

  Something was amiss.

  He went downstairs, pulled out a bottle of smartwater, grabbed a handful of miniature Reese’s cups his mom had bought to give out on Halloween, and headed back upstairs.

  Nothing on the computer. But a text on his phone said, “Give me a minute.”

  Sure. As long as his statistics teacher showed up in that skimpy pink tank top she slept in, she could take all the time she needed. He’d thought about giving her one of his jerseys but was afraid she’d actually sleep in it, and he’d have to stare at that during their Skype sessions instead of her tits. So, that was a no go.

  He propped himself up against the pillows on his bed and sat back, eating his candy and thinking about nothing. Literally nothing. His computer screen flashed and there it was. The sight he waited for all day. The sight he dreamt about at night. Sleeping Beauty’s dark hair hanging down over her shoulders, framing his favorite part of her body. Well, next to her ass in that crazy thong swimsuit with the bow. But he didn’t like to think about that at night. That image kept him awake and hard way too long. And he couldn’t think about her naked breasts. Christ, that night he had her naked on his lap was a distraction he rarely let himself indulge in. Everything about that night was perfect. The game. The girl. The sex. He’d managed to do the one thing he’d been trying to do since Vivi had given him that first lesson about her body and what it needed. With her on top moving how she liked, and his fingers free to give her what she needed, and his hair-trigger response already shot, it was magic. The two of them reached simultaneous combustion.

  Lane was in a sex-hazed fog, not hearing a thing Vivi was saying, staring at her chest until he noticed it was heaving. Up…down. Up…down. Not normal. Definitely not normal as his eyes drifted up to Sleeping Beauty’s pretty face and his heart plunged right into his stomach.

  “You’ve been crying. Why were you crying? What the hell happened?”

  “Lane.” She barely got his name out before she started leaking tears.

  “What?” He gripped the screen of his laptop, fruitlessly trying to angle it so he could see more. “What’s going on?” He’d never seen her cry. Hated hearing it when he called her on the phone that first time. Really hated seeing it now. It about broke his heart.

  His protective instincts kicked in. He’d fix it. Whatever the hell was going on over there, he’d fix it. He was incapable of letting Vivi DuVal feel pain without doing everything in his power to stop it.

  “S.B. Whatever it is, I’m going to…” Okay, maybe he couldn’t fix everything-if her father had a heart attack, he wasn’t going to be able to fix that. But he could be there for her, so that’s what he promised. “…Hold your hand through it.”

  She grabbed a tissue off camera and turned her head, as if he couldn’t see her body convulsing in sobs.

  “My God. What happened, Viv? You’ve got to tell me.”

  “Nothing,” she said, working to get herself together. “Nothing,” she said, sniffing in a deep breath, trying to get control. “I’m sorry. Nothing happened. I mean, nothing bad happened. Not like I’m making it look like.” She took a couple deep breaths, dried her eyes, and then settled herself down. She finally looked into the camera and tilted her head. Eyes bloodshot, cheeks tear streaked. Still, she gave him her sweet little smile.

  “Hi,” she said.

  “Hi,” he whispered, so sad for whatever was hurting her.

  “Lane, I’ve been thinking.”

  Why did those words strike fear in him? His instincts told him to interrupt her now. Not to let whatever she was about to say get started. But curiosity got the better of him. He held his tongue.

  Her next breath came out shaky. “Olivia Thompson wants you to take her to Homecoming. And I, well, I think you should do it.”

  “Really?” His eyes sprung wide. “Is this your way of telling me you’d like to try a three-way on May sixteenth?”

  “What? No! Of course not.”

  He laughed at her horrified expression. “Then why the hell would I take Olivia to Homecoming? I’ve already got a date lined up.”

  She blinked at that. His Sleeping Beauty. Her mouth parted in surprise. “You do?”

  “Yep.”

  After a lengthy silence. “Can I ask who?”

  “May as well. Everybody else is all up in Lane Kettering’s business. I think I’m trending on Twitter.”

  “So…?”

  “I met this cute girl from Henderson over the summer. Henderson High School. She’s agreed to be my date. Of course, she’s going to come down with the flu or something that night and won’t be able to make it. I’ll have to attend by myself. Which, you know, will give me an excuse to leave early. Unless there’s a cute first-year teacher chaperoning. Then I’m going to talk Lam into asking Mrs. Kerry to dance, so I can dance with you. In public.”

  “You can’t dance with me in public.”

  “I can dream.”

  “But wouldn’t you like to attend the dance with an actual date?”

  “You know I would. Are you planning to quit so we can go public? Because really, as long as the Warriors stay undefeated, no one is gonna care about anything else.”

  “They’ll care.”

  “Yeah, well, I’m getting to the point where I don’t care,” he grumbled.

  “Lane. Here’s the thing. We originally agreed to keep our relationship light so you could enjoy your senior year. And then I messed that up by taking this job at Wilson. So,” she sighed.

  “So what?” he snapped.

  “So, I think we need to go back to that original plan. I mean, I know me being here is going to make it awkward, and I’m sorry about that, but being crowned Homecoming King without a date is sort of anticlimactic. I don’t want your senior year to be anticlimactic.”

  “I don’t give a shit about being Homecoming King. Frankly, it’s downright embarrassing, and my teammates will tease the living shit out of me if I let them put a crown on my head. The only reason I’m showing up is because my mother would have a fit if I didn’t, and I need to placate my mother if I want to keep making out with my statistics teacher.”

  “That is my point. None of this is easy for you. None of it is fair.”

  “You’re telling me. I’m dating the hottest girl in the school, but I can’t tell anybody.”

  He watched her give in to a laugh.

  “Come on, S.B. We’ve managed pretty good so far. Hell, it’s been fairly easy after those first few days.”

  “Yes. It has. But now we’re facing Homecoming. And as much as I appreciate that you’ve already worked out your…story, this is just the tip of the iceberg.”

  “Don’t
borrow trouble, Viv. One day at a time. That’s how we’re going to get all the way to graduation.”

  “But is that really how you want to live your senior year?”

  “What choice do I have?”

  Her eyes started leaking again.

  Oh, no.

  “Lane, I’m afraid I’ve rethought this…”

  “No.” Hell no. Sleeping Beauty was not breaking his heart because Olivia Thompson wanted a damn date to Homecoming. He cut her off by slamming his computer shut and then got himself dressed. If they were going to have this conversation, they were going to have it face to face.

  The pounding on her front door probably sounded a little frantic to whoever was inside. He was definitely feeling frantic, so you know, whatever. The truth was he felt like he was clinging to happiness by a thread, already sunk waist-deep in a marsh pit of despair. Because as great as his senior year was going right now, a championship season would not be nearly as much fun if he couldn’t share it with Vivi. So here he was, late on a school night, way over in Henderson, banging on her front door.

  And in keeping with how things were going for him at the moment, Vivi’s father was the one to open that door. Of course he was. At least Lane assumed the big hulk of a man standing there glowering at him was Jeb DuVal. They’d yet to be introduced.

  “Mr. DuVal. I’m Lane Kettering,” he said, sticking his hand out, looking him in the eye like he wasn’t scared to death of the man.

  After a surprised look and a slow perusal from the top of his head all the way down to his Nikes, Jeb took his offered hand and shook it. “Little late for a school night, isn’t it? Come on in.”

  “Yes, sir. I apologize for that. It’s just that…well, it seems…your daughter, sir, she’s upset, and I’ve-”

  Just then, both men turned their heads toward the loud clamor they heard bounding down the staircase. Vivi stopped abruptly in the middle when she saw the two of them together. Lane took in every detail of his willful Sleeping Beauty, standing there in next to nothing, holding the railing, leaning forward in her pink tank top, displaying waaay too much cleavage.

  “Geez, put on some clothes,” he barked, right along with her father.

  Vivi stood up and placed a hand on her hip, completely affronted. Then she rolled her eyes before turning and heading back upstairs.

  Mr. DuVal patted Lane on the back. “I think you and I are going to get along just fine. Let’s head into my den and have a little chat.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  When Vivi stuck her head inside her father’s den and saw Lane and her dad talking in a congenial fashion, she breathed a sigh of relief. Then she walked in, fully dressed-like she was on her way to work for God’s sake-pissed off at both of them.

  “Do not give this boy a hard time,” her father said as he rose to leave the room. “He’s got an undefeated season going. He doesn’t need to be distracted by any of your silly nonsense.”

  “Silly nonsense? Daddy!”

  “Don’t “Daddy” me. This boy has come all the way from Oxford, raced over here because you are upset, when he should be tucked in bed getting his sleep for the game tomorrow night. If he isn’t at his best, you’re going to be the one to blame.”

  “Since when do you care if the running back from hell is at his best?”

  Her father turned to Lane. “My apologies, Lane. Good luck tomorrow night.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Lane said, standing.

  Her father walked out and closed the wood-paneled double doors behind him.

  Vivi looked up at Lane, nervous. It was the first time since she’d met him that he wasn’t greeting her with a smile. Right now, he looked dead serious and as old as she’d originally thought he was.

  “I see you and my father have bonded,” she said, hoping to lighten his mood.

  “You have a problem with that?” His beautiful voice was flat. Harsh. She shook her head no and let her gaze drop to the floor. Unable to form words. Unable to look him in the eye.

  But Lane Kettering was nothing if not resolute. He stood his ground and waited her out. When she finally gave in and glanced up, she saw his fingers twitching, his jaw tight.

  “I know you have feelings for me,” he stated.

  “Of course I do.” It came out as a whisper. So she cleared her throat and said, “I’m crazy about you.”

  “Then please, start acting like it. Stop overthinking what’s happening here and just go with it. And give me some damn credit for knowing my own mind.”

  “That’s not what this is about.”

  “That’s exactly what this is about. Do you think my senior year would be more enjoyable if you were in Atlanta? If we were still texting once a month? If you still had no idea I was a senior in high school and I had that hanging over my head? Hanging over our relationship?”

  She hadn’t looked at it that way.

  “The only regret I have about my senior year is that we are stuck in this charade, which I agreed to solely so it wouldn’t put a black mark on your dream. Your career. Because…because I love you, S.B. So if you think selflessly breaking up with me is going to improve my senior year, you’re dead wrong. It would ruin the most fun I’ve ever had, except for those four days with you at the beach. It would take all the fun out of our undefeated season if I couldn’t look up into the stands and see my girlfriend, knowing I’m getting her hot by scoring touchdowns.”

  She moved into his arms then. Buried her head into his chest and wrapped herself around him. “I’m sorry.”

  “You should be. Geez. You scared the shit out of me tonight. Made me come busting in here, having to meet your daddy while I’m all worked up and worried you’re gonna dump me.”

  She lifted her head. “What the hell was that with you and my father?”

  Lane rubbed her back. “I think he liked that I told you to put on some clothes. He definitely respects the way I run with a football.”

  “Lane, are you sure about this?”

  “Did you cry all evening because you were planning to break up with me?”

  She shrugged.

  “Are you doing this because of me? Or are you trying to protect yourself? Because if that’s the case, we can-”

  “No. This is not because I’m afraid for myself. I’m afraid you’ll end up resenting me. Holding you back from doing everything you want to do.”

  “Uh-huh. See, you love me. Even if you don’t know it yet.”

  Oh, she knew it.

  “So let’s settle this once and for all. One day at a time, you and I, together. You’re not going to be my teacher forever.”

  “No, I won’t.”

  “I’m starting to think Ms. Beaumont was right. We should be having fun with this. I shouldn’t be wasting this opportunity.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I am now going to start bucking to be the teacher’s pet.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Lane Kettering was not fooling around. Well, Vivi supposed that he was indeed fooling around-but in a very serious way. He showed up for her Statistics class the next day with sunglasses off and his game face on. He raised his hand, answered questions with surprising flourish, and every few days would switch his seat with the person in front of him until he was sitting in the front row, dead center, three feet away from where she regularly stood.

  Vivi moved her desk directly in front of him, needing some sort of boundary between them in the classroom.

  Lane just smirked.

  Homecoming came and went. The cheerleader’s new pom-pom routine was applauded, the Warriors came out victorious, and Lane’s story about his date taking ill at the last minute held up, leaving him to be fawned over by girls and boys alike all night. He did not win Homecoming King but his buddy Lam did. And Lam ate it up with a fork and spoon. He not only paraded around with the crown on his head all night long, he wore it all day Monday at school.

  Being the newbie teacher, Vivi had been roped into chaperone duty and was happier fo
r it. It was the perfect opportunity to keep an eye on her cheerleaders while at the same time having a super-secret date with the hottest guy in the room.

  It was the first time she’d ever seen Lane in a coat and tie, and man, did he look like he had stepped out of GQ. It was also the first time she really understood the term “eye candy,” because her eyes did nothing but eat him up all night. She eventually had to relegate herself to a place in the shadows where she would be less likely to be caught watching him and just enjoyed the show.

  It was that night Vivi began to realize how deep Lane’s kindness ran. She watched as he was continually interrupted, asked to dance, patted on the back, or knocked none too gently on his arm, over and over. Every time he would turn and give the perpetrator a smile and sometimes a handshake, but always his undivided attention.

  Vivi couldn’t help but notice that a lot of female eyes followed him wherever he went and how oblivious he seemed to it. He didn’t ask anybody to dance, but never turned down a girl who got up the courage to ask him. Of course, being the perfect boyfriend, he made sure to seek Vivi out with his eyes and send her a wink.

  He stayed behind at the end, volunteering to help clean up. The rest of the teachers couldn’t get out of there fast enough, so it was easy to be the last two the custodian ushered out the door. Mr. Leonard, the janitor, asked Lane to walk Miss DuVal to her car, worried for her safety, and Lane promised he would with the utmost sincerity.

  Lane talked Vivi into a date on Halloween night since the two of them could venture out-in Henderson at least-under the disguise of costumes. Vivi wanted to go as Lois Lane with him as Superman, but Lane insisted she dress up as Sleeping Beauty since that was her nickname and how he’d seen her-asleep on the sand-before she ever opened her eyes. He requested she wear a blue thong underneath her costume to commemorate the occasion of their first meeting. But there was no way she could talk him into dressing up as Prince Charming in tights. She laughed hysterically just thinking about it as they Skyped one night, which didn’t help her case any. When she tried to ply him by promising sexual favors on May sixteenth, he said he’d be getting sexual favors on May sixteenth no matter what he wore.