Dad looked at me and his eyes softened and it seemed that pride thing was contagious because all of a sudden, he looked like he was proud of me. Like, really proud. “In what?”
“Physics,” I said. “Because it’s really important that pilots do well in physics.”
He nodded slowly and then put his hand on mine and gave me a squeeze. “That’s my girl. I bet you’ll make a wonderful pilot.”
So yeah, that just made me completely lose it. But in a good way, of course.
One Investigation Leads to Another
It had been snowing all day, which reminded me of when Jared had helped me shovel, especially because I was probably going to get called out to clear the walks any second now. I pulled my phone out of my pocket and opened up a text window.
Hi boyfriend, I sent.
Hi g/f, he sent back.
I’m going to have to go shovel snow, I texted.
Want some help?
Like he needed to ask. I glanced at the clock; still plenty of time until boys had to be off campus. Yes.
Are you going to throw me in the snow again?
Plan on it.
Meet you downstairs.
~ ♥ ~
As Jared and I walked out toward the maintenance shed, he reached for my mittened hand and held on. I turned and smiled up at him.
He smiled back at me. “Thanks.”
“For what?”
“For letting me help you shovel.”
I lifted an eyebrow. “For letting you help? More like manipulating you into it.”
He grinned at me. “I don’t remember any manipulating.”
“That’s weird,” I said. “You don’t remember me promising you we could make out if you helped me shovel?”
“Ah,” he said, looking up at the dark sky, the snowflakes falling on his upturned face. “I do remember that now. You devil.”
“Angel,” I corrected, making him look down at me.
“My angel,” he said, grabbing onto my coat and pulling me to him.
As his eyes drifted to my lips, I knew he was getting ready to kiss me, but I needed to come clean first. “I need to tell you something.”
“That you can’t wait to manipulate me?”
“That too,” I said. “But this is serious.”
The smile dissolved from his face. “What is it?”
I took a deep breath and looked away, worried that telling him would make him think differently about me.
His gloved hand landed on my chin and he gently turned my head so I had no choice but to look at him. “What is it?”
I swallowed and looked up into his green eyes, thinking about him and what he’d been through in his life and who he was now. “Two things,” I said.
He looked at me, waiting for me to continue.
“One, I...uh...may have stupidly accidentally kissed a teacher.” When Jared’s eyes went wide like saucers I hurried to finish the story. “It was just after the whole talent show thing. He was just being nice and I sort of yeah...kissed him.” I went on to tell him everything right up to the part where the dean told me I wasn’t expelled and that Mr. Stratton could have his job back, if he wanted it, which he did.
“Wow,” Jared said. I was staring at him intently, trying to read how he felt about the whole thing. I was really worried that my brand new boyfriend was not going to be able to get over the fact that I’d kissed a teacher and almost cost him his job. But then he pursed his lips and looked toward the big Rosewood main building and said, “I’m really sorry.”
So that was unexpected. “What do you mean? Why are you sorry?”
He reached for my hands and pulled me close. “Because I should have been there for you then. If I had been, none of that would have happened.”
“But you were. You tried...”
He shook his head. “Not hard enough.”
I reached up and put my hand on his face, my knitted mittens catching on his stubble. “You’re here now,” I said. “That counts for everything. Especially if you don’t think less of me because of what I did.”
His green eyes were on me and I could see how he felt about me in them and was instantly relieved. Still, he reassured me when he said, “Not even a little. If anything I think more of you because of how you fixed things. Very mature, Seychelles.” He was smiling, but I knew he meant it.
I went up on tiptoes and kissed him.
Several minutes later when we parted from the kiss, both breathless, he smiled and looked down at me, his lips deliciously swollen from kissing. “What was the second thing?” he asked.
I gave him a lopsided smile. “Remember when that douche Hunter blurted out that you were in love with me?”
He looked at me funny. “Yeah...”
“Will you tell me? You haven’t actually said the words.” I held my breath until a slow smile spread across his mouth
He took his glove off and slid his thumb across my bottom lip. “Seychelles Spencer, I love you. I think I’ve always loved you and everything about you, from your crazy red hair to your perfectly kissable lips and that giant brain of yours that is so incredibly hot. I can’t believe you’re mine, but I’m so very glad you are.” Then he leaned down and kissed me again, so tenderly this time that I couldn’t help but believe him.
“How was that?” he asked as he leaned back out of the kiss.
“Good,” I croaked
“Tell me the second thing,” he said.
“I love you, too,” I said, looking into his eyes.
He seemed shocked. “Really?”
“You of all people would know if I was acting.”
“That’s true,” he said, his eyes fluttering closed as he leaned down to kiss me again.
I wondered if we’d ever get the shoveling done and then decided I didn’t really care.
“Get a room!”
We both laughed as we parted and turned to see Brooklyn walking toward us through the snow. For a second I’d thought it would be weird because of her history with Jared, but her smile was genuine as she approached.
“Where are you coming from?” I asked, because it seemed weird for her to just randomly be outside walking around in the dark.
“Oh you know,” she said with a dismissive wave of her hand as she walked past us. “Just out in the snow. Don’t mind me, I’ll leave you two to it.”
Something about her demeanor felt off, but she didn’t look like she wanted to be questioned, so I left it alone. Anyway, my time with Jared was limited and there was shoveling (and kissing) to accomplish, so I was happy to send her on her way.
“See you back in the dorm,” she said over her shoulder.
“Yep, see you,” I said.
As she disappeared into the building, I turned back to Jared. “We should really get the shovels.”
He nodded and grabbed my hand again as we started walking toward the maintenance building. But we both stopped short when we saw the trail of footprints in the snow. Brooklyn’s footprints that had come from that old abandoned shed.
“What do you think she was doing back there?” I asked.
He shrugged. “She seeing anyone?”
I shook my head. “Not since she and Dave broke up, I don’t think.”
“Maybe she was just out for a walk like she said. Maybe she was just investigating.”
“Want to see what’s there?” I asked.
Jared grabbed my coat and pulled me up against him. “No. I want to kiss you again. Then we should shovel and I’ll kiss you some more until it’s time for me to leave. That okay with you?”
I wrapped my arms around him as well as I could with his big coat and angled my face up toward his. “Yep. Better get to it, time’s running out.”
He didn’t need to be told twice.
Thank you
for reading ACTING OUT!
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The Rosewoods Series
TAKING THE REINS
MASQUERADE
PLAYING THE PART
READING BETWEEN THE LINES
I’LL NEVER FORGET (Short Story)
THIS POINT FORWARD
RISKING IT ALL (Short Story)
MAKING RIPPLES
ACTING OUT
HITTING THE TARGET (August 2015—turn the page for a sneak peek!)
Find me online at http://katrinaabbott.com, follow me on Twitter @abbottkatrina and come check out my Pinterest board to see some of the inspirations behind the characters (girls and guys!) and the costumes for MASQUERADE.
xoxo
Katrina Abbott
Coming soon!
Hitting the Target
Book 8
of
The Rosewoods
Read on for a sneak peek!
Happy Birthday to Me
My eyes popped open and my first waking thought was: I am now eighteen! Legal. Well, legal to vote, anyway. I’d been legal to drive for some time, but now... Eighteen seemed so official. Adult.
The problem was that I was still in high school and didn’t have much of my life together, so I hardly felt like an adult. Still, I couldn’t really complain: my life at Rosewood was good. I had my good friends and was happy to be back on campus permanently. Until I graduated of course.
Only one thing would make my life complete.
No, I told myself as I rolled over toward the wall, pulling the covers up to my chin, I would not even think that I needed a guy to complete me.
But maybe it was okay to say that having one would complement my life. There. Yeah. Like an extra add-on that I didn’t exactly need. But would be nice to have. Like a sunroof or HBO.
Except that Brady was a feature I couldn’t afford in many ways.
As I lay there, staring at the wall in the darkness, I thought about him and inevitably how amazing he’d looked that day last week when I stumbled in on him in the bunker. He’d been dressed down in jeans and his hair kind of looked like it hadn’t been brushed; he obviously hadn’t been expecting anyone bursting in on his little hideaway. Certainly he would never have expected me, ironically crying because I thought I’d never see him again.
But he’d looked rumpled and confused. Out of his element, which was somehow totally endearing.
We’d talked awkwardly and he hadn’t tried to make a move on me, a fact that I both appreciated and hated. It was totally selfish, but more than anything I wanted him to want me. I wanted him to need me, to be affected by me the same way he made me crazy every time he looked at me with those intense amber eyes.
Every day since then, I’d had to fight myself because I wanted to go back to the bunker to see him. To hear his voice. To step close enough to smell him, even if I never touched him.
But it was a very bad idea and I would just be torturing myself. Because I couldn’t have him.
Why is that again? I had to keep reminding myself of the particulars of our impossible situation so that I wouldn’t decide to just chuck it all and throw myself into his arms. Sometimes I wondered if his resolve was as razor thin as mine. I had a feeling it was. And knowing that made it even harder. Hello, vicious cycle.
Except that if I disregarded all the reasons we couldn’t date and managed to convince him to be with me, I could never live with myself if he gave up his Olympic dreams because of me. I never wanted him to ever look at me and wonder what if? Or worse, resent me because I had killed his dreams (not to mention that hooking up would likely get him fired from working here at the school).
But still, I couldn’t stop myself from thinking about his...
“OOF!” escaped my mouth as all the wind was suddenly knocked out of me. What felt like a full-grown manatee landed on top of my body over the covers. I would have screamed in terror if my lungs hadn’t been empty of every molecule of air.
“Birthday Shamu!” Emmie yelled out from on top of me.
“What the hell?” I managed once I was able to suck in some air.
“Birthday Shamu!” she repeated triumphantly and while I couldn’t see her, I had a feeling she was doing a fist-pump. And as if that wasn’t enough, then she started tickling me.
Suddenly I understood the urge to kill another human being, no matter how much you love them under normal circumstances.
Between gasps of laughter, I said, “If you...gah!...value your...life...you will...no...please! Stop! No...tickling...please, Emmie!”
She kept at it until I threatened to barf (I feared it wasn’t an empty threat, either) and then she sat up, still on top of me, but no longer tickling. I grunted as I turned over underneath her and labored to catch my breath.
“What the hell was that?” I said when my heart began to return to a normal pace and breathing wasn’t such a hardship.
She grinned down at me. “The birthday Shamu. You know, like the whale from Sea World, which, don’t even get me started on. But never mind. Didn’t you like it? Are you not familiar with the birthday Shamu?”
“Uh, no. On both counts,” I said, giving her what I hoped was a haughty stare. It probably would have been more effective if I wasn’t on the verge of giggling. “Is it some sort of Rosewood tradition I’m not familiar with yet?”
She shook her head but had that twinkle in her eye. “No. I made it up just now. But it could become a Rosewood tradition.”
“Get off me,” I groaned. “And no, thanks. I do not want any part of that ever again, giving OR receiving.”
Emmie rolled off me so I decided I would let her live. Maybe.
“Why are you even up?” I asked as I stretched and flicked the switch on the lamp beside my bed. “It’s still dark-thirty and you don’t even have to get up early anymore.”
“Old habits.” She shrugged as she dropped onto her own bed. “So. What do you have planned for your special day?”
I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes. “What? Nothing. It’s a Wednesday, so practice and school.” I glanced at the clock and realized Emmie had only beaten my alarm by a couple of minutes. I leaned over and turned it off before I hauled myself out of bed. “I better get moving.”
I was only a few steps away from the bathroom before I heard a humph behind me. I turned toward my roommate.
“What?” I said.
“You only turn eighteen once, Brooklyn.”
“Yes.” I cocked my head. “And?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know, just...make it count. Do something exciting.”
“I will,” I promised. Though I had no idea how. What kind of excitement was there to be had on campus on a Wednesday?
Turns out I didn’t have to go find excitement; it came looking for me.
~ ♥ ~
I was working in autopilot like I did most mornings, at least until I got into the arena and up on Charlie and had to wake up and pay attention. So as I shuffled into the tack room, nothing seemed amiss at first.
But then, I smelled Brady. I whipped my body around, but he wasn’t there; I was alone in the room with the saddles and bridles.
I’m losing my mind, I thought, realizing it was probably all the leather that made me think of him. I grabbed my saddle and held it up toward my face as I walked out into the barn. It smelled good, the way tack did: comforting and warm like leather and horse. But it wasn’t what I’d smelled upon walking into the room. Brady always smelled like leather and horse, yes, but more; his own natural smell added to the scent, making it distinctly his.
I am losing it.
But then something caught my eye as it fell to the ground. I looked down and it was a folded piece of paper. My heart thumped in my chest. I balanced the sad
dle on my hip and looked around to make sure I was alone before bending down to pick it up.
I cursed and stuffed it in my pocket as I saw Janette, Brady’s replacement coach, come into the barn.
“Good morning, Brooklyn,” she said with a smile as she walked past me toward the office.
“Hi,” I said.
She glanced up at the clock on the wall as she slid her key into the door lock. “You’re running late, better get moving. I’ll see you in the arena in five.”
Which meant it wasn’t until way later after practice when I had gotten Charlie settled in his stall and returned his saddle and bridle to the tack room that I got to read the note.
I just wanted to wish you a happy birthday and give you a little something. Come see me where we last met, tonight after dark, whenever you can get away.
B.
No names, no explicit times or instructions, but I there wasn’t an iota of doubt in my mind that it was from Brady and that he wanted me to meet him in the bunker.
That he remembered my birthday and wanted to give me something had my stomach in knots. It was a romantic gesture, which seemed a bit out of character for him. I mean, he was considerate; he’d brought me a coffee that time, remembering how I liked it. And he was sensitive, taking me to meet his horse. Thoughtful? Yes. Intense? Absolutely. Sexy as all get out? Hells yes. But romantic? That wasn’t a word I would have used to describe him.
He had a little something for me. What could that mean? A cupcake? A sappy birthday card? A birthday kiss, maybe?
I had so many hours to wait. How was I ever going to get through school? How was I going to even pretend to pay attention in class? I had no idea, but I had a feeling it was going to be the longest day ever.
My heart pounded as I jogged from the stables back to the main building so I could get ready for school, because the sooner I got this day started, the sooner it would be over.
At least I knew one thing: I was definitely going to be able to tell Emmie that something exciting happened on my birthday.
~ ♥ ~
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Acting Out Page 18