Catch You (Love Me, I'm Famous Book 0)

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Catch You (Love Me, I'm Famous Book 0) Page 8

by M. H. Soars


  * * *

  After a very humiliating post game talk in the locker room, I’m surprised to find Kimberly waiting for me outside. Alone.

  “Hey,” she says.

  “Hey.”

  “Are you okay?”

  I touch the side of my face where Leah hit me. “I’ve had worse.”

  Kimberly’s perfect eyebrows furrow together. “I was referring to the game. It was painful to watch.”

  I shrug and close the distance between us. “I saw the guy who attacked you in the crowd. It was hard to keep my head straight after that.”

  “Are you saying you lost the game because you were worried about me?”

  “In part.”

  Kimberly lowers her gaze and bites her lip. That small gesture makes my stomach uncoil and the need to breach the gap between us is overwhelming. I want to pull her closer and run my hands through her hair, make sure that it’s as silky as it looks. All the other times I flirted with Kimberly while I was still with Leah was more of a game, a way to push Kimberly’s buttons. But now that Leah’s shadow is gone, there’s no guilty conscience keeping my heart from beating harder for this girl, which is crazy. I barely know her.

  “So, do you have any idea how you’re going to ditch your date tonight to go after Alex?”

  “Ditch my date? Why would I want to do that?” I keep a straight face, fighting the twitch on the corners of my lips.

  “You’re not seriously considering bringing Leah along with us, are you?”

  Okay, I suck at poker faces. The slow grin breaks loose. “Didn’t you see the spectacle? Leah and I broke up right after the game.”

  “You did?”

  “Yep, so to make things easier, I say we go to the dance together.”

  Kimberly’s pretty blue eyes widen in surprise and her plump, edible lips make a perfect ‘O’. “You want me to be your date?”

  “Sure, why not?”

  “It’s a terrible idea.”

  “Worse than playing Veronica Mars?”

  “I guess not.”

  Chapter 18

  Kimberly

  I make my way down the stairs to find Mom and Dad staring at me like we’re in the Father of the Bride movie and I’m the bride.

  “Oh, honey. You look so pretty.” Mom has tears in her eyes.

  “It’s only a party, folks.” I reach the bottom and head to the entry foyer to grab my jacket.

  “What are you doing? We need to take pictures,” Mom says.

  I turn around. “Why?”

  I look down at my dress and don’t see what the big deal is. It’s the same dress I wore at my cousin’s wedding last year and I don’t remember Mom making such a big fuss about it then. I didn’t bother doing anything crazy with my hair either. It curls naturally at the ends, all I did was secure one side with a pretty butterfly clasp.

  Liv, Sebastian, and my baby brother Jeremy come in from the kitchen, each holding a big fat slice of pizza. My stomach grumbles. I forgot to eat.

  “Where’s your date?” Sebastian asks.

  “I’m going solo,” I lie. I agreed to be Owen’s date, but I didn’t want him to pick me up at home. We’re meeting at school.

  “You’re going to homecoming dance alone?” Sebastian’s jaw drops, like what I’m about to do is absurd. Maybe to a twelve-year old boy who knows nothing it is.

  “Yes, what’s the big deal?”

  Sebastian rolls his eyes and I can practically hear what he’s thinking. “It’s weird,” he says.

  I open my mouth to reply when someone rings the doorbell. Dad moves to answer and I start toward the kitchen. There’s a pizza slice with my name on it. I don’t make it there, though. Owen’s booming voice makes me stop and turn around.

  He’s standing there in the foyer, wearing a tux and holding a corsage in his hand. My jaw drops as I take in his whole frame. I have never seen a more beautiful man in my life. My heart does somersaults inside my chest and for a moment, I forget that this is just a pretend date.

  Owen gives me an elevator look and there’s a spark of appreciation in his eyes. “Wow, you look amazing.”

  “Uh, Kimmy? This young man says he’s here to escort you to the dance,” my father says.

  “You said you didn’t have a date,” Sebastian points out.

  Reality crashes in. Damn it, Owen. I need to come up with an excuse fast, otherwise there’s a serious chance my parents will ground me. “I never said I would go with you, Whitfield.”

  “Well, you never said no either.” Owen flashes me a dazzling smile and I want to throttle him.

  Mom clasps her hands together. “Oh, this is so romantic. I’ll get the camera.”

  I’m hoping my father will give Owen the third degree. It’s what he deserves for showing up at my house when I specifically told him not to. But Dad starts to talk about football instead.

  “Tough loss today, kid.”

  “I know.”

  “That first touchdown, though. What a play.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  “Call me Murphy.”

  Call me Murphy? What’s the matter with everyone here? Does Owen have a parent magnet or something?

  Mom returns with the camera and orders Owen and me to pose in front of the fireplace. I stand stiffly next to him, but when he places his hand on my lower back, it’s hard not to melt on the spot. He leans closer and whispers in my ear. “Relax. Try to at least pretend you’re happy I’m here.”

  “I’ll get you back for this, Owen,” I say through clenched teeth.

  “Is that a promise?”

  I whip my face around to glare at him. He just smiles back with that goofy grin of his that I’m beginning to look forward to. What’s wrong with me? I cannot be falling for him. I refuse.

  “Less talking, more smiling,” Mom says.

  She takes a dozen pictures, and she will take more if I don’t put a stop to it pronto.

  “Let’s go. I don’t want to be late,” I say.

  I get my jacket, and Owen already has one foot out the door, when Dad stops me. “I expect you back no later than two, Kimmy.”

  “I’m staying at Larissa’s tonight, remember?”

  Dad frowns and he’s about to say something else when Mom interrupts. “Sure, honey. Have a good time.”

  I make a quick exit, before Dad can think of an argument. I don’t say a word to Owen as we walk side by side to his car. I know my parents are spying on us from the living room. I quickly get my duffel bag from the trunk of my car and practically shove it at my ‘date’.

  “Whoa, careful there. Don’t want your folks to think we’re having a fight already.”

  “I told you not to pick me up.”

  “And what fun would that be?”

  I get into the car, closing the door with excessive force. When Owen takes his seat behind the wheel, I’m blasted with the scent of his aftershave. Deliciously citric and heady. Hell and damn. It wasn’t enough for him to look so scrumptious, he had to smell good too.

  My stomach roars and I remember that I forgot to eat dinner.

  “Hungry?”

  “No.” I keep staring out the window.

  “Liar. Good thing I came prepared.” Owen twists his torso to get something on the back seat of his car. A bag of In-and-Out take-out. “I hope you like their cheeseburgers and strawberry milkshakes.”

  My mouth waters and I let go of my petulant stance. My mother says I’m the easiest girl to please, just give me junk food and you own me, at least for the length of time it takes for me wolf down my treat. I grab the bag Owen offers me and I take a long whiff of delicious, greasy food.

  “You’re welcome.” Owen chuckles.

  “Thank you.”

  * * *

  Owen is intent on making this fake dat
e into a real homecoming dance experience for me. We stop at the step and repeat to take pictures and he doesn’t let go of my hand as we walk into the converted gymnasium. Our arrival together is definitely causing a stir and I feel several perplexed and even downright jealous looks thrown our way. All the while I keep trying to tell my heart to settle down, that this is only an illusion, and that on Monday morning everything will turn back to normal.

  We stop by the refreshments table and Owen fills a glass of punch for me.

  I take a sip while Owen stares at me like he wants to eat me up and I don’t know what to do with myself. Two weeks ago his come-hither look wouldn’t have affected me. What changed? I break eye contact and search the crowd for Alex. That’s the whole point of this charade anyway. I can’t forget that. I don’t see him anywhere and apprehension begins to fill my head. What if he doesn’t show up at all?

  “Where the hell is Alex? Shouldn’t he be here already?” I ask.

  “Relax. He’ll be here. He’s the Homecoming King, he needs to hold court. That’s his alibi, remember?”

  I try to relax but the combination of worrying about Alex and fighting my unexpected feelings for Owen is turning my stomach into a bundle of knots.

  “Aren’t you part of the court, too? Shouldn’t you, I don’t know, parade around?”

  “Nah. That’s lame. Besides, after the sole role I played in tonight’s loss, I doubt people will care if I skip this unsavory tradition.”

  I peer at him, trying to find the truth in his expression. Owen’s nonchalant comment about tonight’s game doesn’t fool me. He’s upset.

  “It takes an entire team to lose a game. You can’t carry the blame alone.”

  “Dance with me?” he asks.

  The sudden change of subject catches me off guard, so when Owen tugs my hand, I don’t fight him. It’s just my luck that the DJ decides to play a ballad, and not just any ballad, True by Spandau Ballet, one of my favorite songs. I let Owen lead me to the dance floor and spin me around until I’m tucked between his arms. He’s so much taller than me that I have to look up to glance at his face. I don’t know what I’m doing, but I feel like I’m spiraling out of control. My pulse is drumming in my ears and there are a thousand butterflies in my stomach. I don’t want to sound cliché, that’s so not my style, but I never felt this way before with any of my ex-boyfriends. My body burns everywhere Owen is touching me, even through our clothes, and I wonder if he knows how he’s making me feel.

  The music changes to an upbeat number and the spell is broken. I take a couple of steps back, needing the distance between us.

  “Kimmy...” he says and I shake my head.

  “I need to use the restroom.” I stride across the gymnasium toward the nearest exit, and when I hit the hallway, I break into a run.

  The nearest bathroom is empty and I welcome the solitude. I look at my reflection in the mirror and see to my horror that my cheeks are flushed. I would throw cold water on my face if I wasn’t wearing makeup. I need to calm down. I rest my hands on the sink and will my heartbeat to return to normal. I can’t be falling for Owen. I can’t. Only fools fall in love with a person they barely know.

  A group of girls comes in, ending my monopoly. They all stare at me like I have a second head or something. I wish I was Medusa so they would turn into statues. Before any of them can make a stupid-ass remark, I make my escape. When I return to gymnasium, I find Owen talking to his ex-girlfriend, Leah. By her animated hand gestures and Owen’s body language, my guess is that she’s not happy he brought me as his date only a few hours after they broke up.

  Now I wish I hadn’t told Larissa to stay home. I didn’t want Alex to make the connection between us and start harassing her too. But knowing how far he’s willing to go to keep people quiet, my guess is that he’s already keeping an eye on her. Maybe that’s why Lorenzo won’t talk anymore. Shit, I can’t believe I didn’t think about that implication.

  “Hey, Kimmy. What’s up?” Brad materializes next to me, a forced smile on his lips. Oh, brother. I can’t deal him on top of everything else.

  “You and Owen, huh?” he continues.

  “We’re here as friends.”

  “Right. That’s why you were so cozy together on the dance floor a few minutes ago.”

  “Owen is using me as buffer against Leah. It clearly didn’t work.” I point at the scene in front of us.

  “Ah, Owen and Leah. They love to hate each other. Never seen a couple fight so much. Mark my words, they’ll end up married someday.”

  I swallow the bitterness in my mouth and try my best to remain unaffected by Brad’s words.

  “Well, they’re certainly made for each other. Good thing I’m not into Owen.”

  Brad runs his finger over my naked arm. “So, does that mean I stand a chance?”

  His touch gives me goose bumps, not the good kind. I narrow my eyes at him and pull my arm away. “Not a chance in hell.”

  His smile wilts as his expression falls. “You don’t know what you’re missing.”

  “Am I interrupting?” Owen asks, making me almost jump on the spot.

  “Not at all, man. Just keeping your date company while you deal with your dirty laundry.”

  “Piss off, Brad.”

  Owen’s friend walks away and stops next to a girl I assume is his date. She throws me a nasty look before dragging him to the dance floor.

  “What was that all about?” Owen asks, but he’s still staring in the direction Brad disappeared to.

  “Nothing. Your friend was telling me how meant to be you and Leah are.”

  Owen whips his face to mine. “He did what?”

  “It’s no biggie. Everyone can see why you always end up getting back together.”

  “What kind of BS is that? Leah and I are done for good. As a matter of fact, there’s something I need to tell you.”

  His tone and furrowed brows tell me he’s serious. And I can’t deal with a serious Owen, mainly because I’m afraid of what he’s going to say to me. Through my peripheral, I catch the perfect excuse to interrupt him.

  “Shh...look, there goes Alex. He’s leaving. Let’s go.”

  Chapter 19

  Kimberly

  Owen takes ownership of my hand again and off we go after Alex. I don’t know why he thinks touching me at all is necessary. But do I pull my hand out of his grasp? No, I don’t.

  Most of the students are still inside, and there they will stay until the party is over, so the parking lot is a bit deserted. Which means, we have to be extra careful to not let Alex know we’re on his trail. Alex passes by his red Jeep without stopping. Sensing something, he stops and looks over his shoulder. Before he can spot us, Owen pushes me against the side of a random car, and burrows his face in the crook of my neck. And holy hell, sparks ignite all over my body. My eyes roll back into their sockets and I have to bite my lower lip hard to keep the moan inside.

  Owen is only trying to hide us, but I can’t help how my body is reacting to his proximity. When he lets out a contented sigh, and his warm breath fans over my sensitive skin, it’s easy to forget where we are and what we are doing. He presses his body against mine and the hands on my hips hold me tighter.

  The sound of a car door opening and closing brings us back to reality. Owen steps back, his heavy lidded eyes not making it any easier for me to control my stupid hormones. Mind out of the gutter, Kimberly.

  I move around him, staying close to the pick-up truck that is hiding us. Peering carefully over the truck’s bed, I see Alex do a manly handshake with a tall and dark figure I don’t recognize.

  “Who’s that?” I whisper.

  “That’s Big Joe. I can’t believe he’s involved in this too.”

  Alex disappears inside Big Joe’s car and when the gray sedan backs out of its parking space, we make a dash for Owen’s car. Ow
en gets behind the wheel and I get into the backseat. He turns to me. “What are you doing back there?”

  “I need to change out of this dress.” I open my duffel bag and retrieve a pair of dark jeans and a black sweater. When I don’t hear the car move, I glance up. “What are you waiting for? We’re going to lose them.”

  Owen finally snaps out of his stupor, turns the engine on, and peels out of the parking lot. But he keeps looking at me through the rear view mirror.

  “Eyes on the road, buddy.”

  “You honestly expect me to not peek?”

  “Duh, obviously. It’s what a gentleman would do.”

  “I never claimed to be one.”

  I stop fumbling with my dress and glare at the back of Owen’s head. “I’m serious! Pay attention to the road. We don’t want to lose Alex now because you want to see me in a bra.”

  “One day, Kimmy. One day,” he mumbles.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Owen doesn’t answer, but he also doesn’t glance at the backseat anymore. I pull my jeans on, under my dress. Now comes the tricky part to get the top part off without being too exposed. The dress is strapless with a corseted top and the invisible zipper at the back usually gets stuck. I twist my arm as far as I can to find more leverage, but the thing won’t budge.

  “Problems back there?” Owen asks, amusement in his voice.

  “My zipper is stuck.”

  “It seems like you need another set of hands.”

  I try one more time, grunting like a caveman in the process, but it’s futile. I sag against the backseat and cross my arms in front of my chest. The car stops and Owen turns, gesturing with his hand. “Quickly, come here.”

  “What are you doing?”

  “Helping you. We stopped at a red light.”

  I scoot forward and turn my back to Owen. With one hard tug, he unsticks the zipper, gliding it all the way down, parting the fabric of my dress. The cool air kisses my skin, giving me goose bumps everywhere. There’s a feathery touch right above my bra clasp and I jolt forward, out of Owen’s reach. I face forward again, holding the front of my dress to keep it from sliding all the way down.

 

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