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The Boyfriend Bet (Boyfriend Chronicles #2)

Page 17

by Chris Cannon

“They’ve been caught kissing on school grounds.” Principal Stephens sat straighter in his chair and adjusted his tie.

  Grant’s mom gave me the once over. “You think this is a girl worth getting in trouble over? If it was someone like Lena, I could understand, but her…it’s ridiculous.”

  My face heated, and I wanted to slap the smug expression off her face.

  Grant’s arm went around my waist. “Mother, I—”

  “Excuse me, Grant,” my grandma said, in her I’m-about-to-load-the-shotgun voice. “What do you mean my granddaughter isn’t worth getting in trouble over? She’s smart, she’s beautiful.”

  Grant’s mom snorted. “Cute maybe, but not beautiful.”

  “Ladies, if we could return to the problem at hand?” Principal Stephens tugged at his tie.

  “The problem at hand is this woman seems to think she can insult my granddaughter without retaliation. And that isn’t true.” My grandmother shook her head. “Everett told me you were a pill. I thought he was being mean, but now I see he was being generous.”

  “Everett? My father-in-law? Why were you speaking to him?”

  “We’re dating, dear. He invited me to dinner at your house this Sunday.”

  “Trying to pad your retirement account?” Grant’s mom asked.

  “It’s a wonder how so much bitchiness can be contained in such a small woman,” my grandmother shot back.

  I laughed. Grant’s face turned red. And Principal Stephens looked like he wanted to crawl under his desk.

  Grant’s mom stood, pointing her finger at my grandma. “I want her thrown off school grounds. And I want her granddaughter kicked out of Wilton.”

  “Mrs. Evertide, I’m sure that’s not necessary.” Principal Stephens stood and gestured that Grant and I should move toward the door. “I’m sure Zoe and Grant understand the error of their ways.”

  “I said, I want that girl kicked out of Wilton. She’s a bad influence on my son.”

  “No she’s not,” Grant said.

  “Sorry to cut this meeting short, ladies, but I have an appointment this evening.” He grabbed his coat. “Zoe, get the door please.”

  Sure. Why not? I opened the door, and Principal Stephens was out of his office like a shot. Smart man.

  Grant pushed me out the door in front of him. “We’re grabbing dinner somewhere, Mother. I’ll see you later.”

  I checked over my shoulder and saw my grandma pick up her purse and walk past Grant’s mom, like she couldn’t hear the tirade of bitchiness pouring from her mouth.

  “Don’t make eye contact.” Grant took my hand and pulled me out the door, running down the hall.

  By the time we made it to his car, we were both laughing.

  He floored it out of the parking lot and pulled over onto a side street before we reached the highway.

  “Where are we going?”

  “We are off school grounds.” He undid his seatbelt and pushed the button to release mine.

  “What—”

  And then he kissed me. The gearshift was digging into my ribs, and the seatbelt was hung up on my right arm, but none of that mattered. Grant’s mouth moved against mine, and his hands slid up the back of my shirt, and my skin tingled wherever he touched. And now the gear shift was annoying me, because I wanted to be closer.

  When Grant pulled away, we were both winded. He leaned his forehead against mine. “I should have bought an automatic transmission.”

  “Yes, you should have.”

  His smile dimmed. “Sorry about my mom.”

  I cringed, remembering his mom’s words. “She really doesn’t like me.”

  “Her opinion doesn’t count.” He brushed his lips across mine. “I like you. And I’m keeping you.”

  Wait. Did that mean what I thought it meant? It sounded like he was saying I was his girlfriend. Was he saying that? Or was I hearing what I wanted to hear? Better not to ask. Time to play it cool. “I guess it’s a good thing I like you, too.”

  “Well, that was a given.” He smirked, daring me to argue the point.

  I rolled my eyes. “It’s your humble streak that keeps me hooked.”

  “That and my baking skills.” His stomach growled. “Food. We need food.”

  Fifteen minutes later, we were at a Chinese restaurant I’d never been to, in one of the nicer areas downtown. It was twenty minutes from school, which meant it would take him fifty minutes to drive me home and about the same amount of time for him to get home. Had he put that together yet?

  Everyone else in the restaurant wore suits or dresses. I tugged at my white blouse, trying to straighten out some of the wrinkles.

  “What are you doing?” Grant asked.

  I dropped my hands. “I feel underdressed.”

  “You’re fine.” He flipped his menu over. “Do you know what you want?”

  Problem number two, my experience with Chinese food ran from fried rice to beef and broccoli. Neither of those dishes were on the menu.

  “What are you having?” Maybe I could copy something close to his order.

  “I like the Mu Shoo Chicken.”

  And I had no idea what that was. Time to confess. “I usually order chicken fried rice, but I don’t see it on here.”

  “You’d probably like this.” He pointed at something I couldn’t pronounce if I tried.

  “Sure. That looks good.” The waitress approached our table wearing a chic emerald silk dress which skimmed her body. Great. Even the waitress was dressed better than I was. “Will you order for me while I go wash my hands?”

  I made my escape and headed for the restrooms. What was wrong with me? A quick check in the mirror showed my hair and makeup were doing their standard thing. It must be Grant’s mom inside my head, telling me I wasn’t good enough. I needed to find a way to evict that woman from my subconscious. Grant liked me and that’s what mattered.

  I plastered on a smile and marched back out to our table, only to find Grant had replaced me. Sitting next to him, were twin, tan, and more than likely tall, blondes. I hated them on sight. Who were these obnoxiously perfect girls and why were they sitting with my boyfriend, I mean my date?

  Grant smiled up at me, so I smiled back, pretending I wasn’t five seconds from stabbing him in the heart with a chopstick.

  “Zoe, this is Angeline and Georgette Turner. They graduated from Wilton a few years ago.”

  I waited for him to tell them I was his girlfriend, or his date. Anything to indicate my status as more than a friend. He didn’t say any of those things, so I took the high road.

  “Nice to meet you.” Now get the hell out of my chair.

  “How do you know Grant?” Twin One asked.

  Opportunity number two for Grant to acknowledge me in some manner. Nothing. Nada. Zip. “We’re dating.”

  “Oh.” Twin number two said.

  “We haven’t seen Grant since we summered in San Francisco with him last year.” Twin number one said.

  “Do you have a condo in San Francisco?” Twin number two asked.

  They knew the answer to the question before they asked it. I wasn’t playing their game. “No. I live here year-round.”

  “That must be boring.” Twin number one wrinkled her nose.

  Twin number two nodded in agreement.

  And I was done. “It’s not. Now, unless you’d like me to sit on your lap, I suggest you remove yourself from my chair.”

  The waitress arrived with our food. She set Grant’s plate in front of him, and then glanced at me. “Where are you sitting?”

  “Good question. Grant, where am I sitting?”

  He gave a tight smile. “Angeline, Georgette, it was nice seeing you. We’ll catch up some other time.”

  The blondes made a show of acting offended. If they didn’t vacate the area immediately, I was going to give them a much better reason to be offended.

  Once they were gone, I reclaimed my seat and dug into my food.

  “What was that about?” Grant asked.
r />   “You’ll have to be more specific.” I shoveled a forkful of rice and chicken into my mouth. With the way this was going, it might be a good idea to eat fast.

  “Why were you rude to my friends?”

  Seriously? “They were rude to me first.”

  “No they weren’t. Angeline asked you a question.”

  Was he deaf and blind? “No. She asked a question she knew the answer to, like I was supposed to be ashamed of not having a condo somewhere, and she called my life boring.”

  “Well, they travel year round. To them living in one place would be boring.”

  A chopstick to the heart was happening in ten seconds if he didn’t take my side. “It’s rude to call someone’s life boring. And why do you care so much about their feelings and so little about mine?”

  “Why are you overreacting? They were making small talk.”

  I needed to make him understand. “If I said, oh, you only have one car? How boring. I have a different car for every day of the week. How would you take that?”

  He poured soy sauce on his food and took a bite. After an agonizing amount of time, he said. “I guess I can see your point. But I don’t think they meant it that way.”

  A swing and a miss. “You do realize they were being bitchy to me because one of them likes you.” God forbid it be both of them. Competing with one would be bad enough.

  He seemed surprised by this fact. “Really?”

  “You don’t have to sound so happy about it.”

  “Sorry. It’s just that I had a crush on Angeline when I was a freshman and she was a junior. She was way out of my league.”

  “And now she’s not.” I sat back and crossed my arms over my chest. “Would you like to run over to her table and get her number before we leave?” And that sounded much bitchier out loud than it had in my head.

  Grant took a deep breath, like he was trying not to say something.

  I knew what it was. He was going to tell me not to be jealous, because we weren’t dating exclusively. And I didn’t want to hear him say it.

  “Zoe, we—”

  “Please don’t finish that sentence. Not here. We can talk on the car ride back to my house.” Which now seemed like it would be fifty minutes of hell.

  We finished our meal in silence, and walked to the car in silence, and drove for the first ten minutes in silence, and then I couldn’t take it anymore.

  “Go ahead and finish what you started to say.” Heart in my throat, I held my breath and waited.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Grant

  “What do you want me to say?” I didn’t hide the irritation in my voice.

  She sniffled. Oh hell. Was she crying? This is exactly what I didn’t want. “Zoe, talk to me.”

  “Why didn’t you tell the twins we were dating?”

  “We were sitting together eating dinner. I assumed they’d realize we were dating.”

  “And that’s what we’re doing? Dating?”

  What was she getting at? “What else would you call it?”

  “I don’t know. You keep sending me mixed signals. One minute you tell me you like me and you’re keeping me. Then you’re smiling about some other girl liking you.”

  “Angeline is a former crush. I’m flattered that she’d like me now, when she wouldn’t give me the time of day before. I don’t understand why you’re getting bent out of shape about this.”

  “If we went to Betty’s for burgers, and a cute guy came over to our table and flirted with me, and you found out he’s a guy I used to like, and I didn’t tell him we were dating, would you be a happy camper?”

  She had a point…then again, I could date who I wanted. I checked the next exit number. We had thirty more minutes together in the car. So this probably wasn’t the best time to bring up our non-exclusive dating status.

  “I should have said we were dating. Next time, I’ll explain the situation if that will make you feel better.”

  “I’d feel better if you hadn’t used the implied idiot tone when you said that.”

  Well this was going to be a fun ride. I gripped the steering wheel tighter. “Zoe. We talked about this.”

  “And here it comes.”

  Why did all girls have to be like this? “It’s not like I’m springing something on you. We said we weren’t dating exclusively.”

  “That was before you told me that you liked me and you were keeping me. When you said that, I thought you meant something that you obviously didn’t.”

  Well, shit. “I meant what I said. I like you and I don’t care who doesn’t like you. That doesn’t mean I’m ready to date anyone exclusively.”

  “Right. You’re a guy who likes to keep his options open. Understood.”

  I checked the clock. Twenty more minutes until this was over. I didn’t want Zoe going nuclear in the car. With her temper, she was liable to grab the wheel and send us careening into oncoming traffic.

  “I don’t want to feel trapped like I did with Lena. I’m happy with the way things are. I want to go to the dance with you tomorrow and have a good time. I want to curse the gear shift in my car when I drop you off at your house tonight. I want you. Isn’t that enough?”

  She uncrossed her arms and laid her left hand on top of mine, which was resting on the gear shift. “You’re right. I shouldn’t care about labels.”

  “So we’re good?”

  …

  Zoe

  Hell no, we weren’t good. Not like I’d tell him that. I wanted him to want to be my boyfriend. Did I want a promise of forever? No. But I wanted to know that he wasn’t scanning the horizon for the next girl he would date.

  I took a deep breath and lied. “Sure. We’re good.” Time to lighten the mood. “Did you see there’s a Zombie Marathon on TV this weekend?”

  “I think it’s one of the laws of the universe that there’s a Zombie marathon on some cable channel every weekend.”

  Not on the channels I had. “I guess, but it’s still fun.”

  It was dark by the time we turned down the gravel road to my house. Grant turned his lights off and pulled into the deep shadows on the side of the driveway.

  “Are you pretending you’re in stealth mode? Because I guarantee everyone heard your car engine when we took the turn off for my house.”

  “Damn. I was being so sneaky.”

  “Who are you hiding from?” I asked.

  “No one.” He unbuckled his seatbelt, and I did the same. “Just hoping to hate the gearshift a little more.”

  My hormones went “Yippee” while my common sense frowned. Grant’s lips pressed against mine, and I decided for now, common sense was overrated. The perverse part of my brain suggested I make him regret his non-boyfriend status a bit. Or maybe that was my hormones running the show. Either way, I threw myself into the moment.

  When the kiss ended, I wasn’t ready for him to leave. “If you’re not ready to face your mom, you can hide out here for a while.”

  “That’s not a bad idea.”

  “Cool.” We climbed out of the car and headed into the house. My grandmother looked up from the living room where she sat crocheting.

  “Hello, Grant. Avoiding your mother?”

  I laughed. “What can I say, we think alike.” I tugged Grant toward the kitchen. “Let’s grab a soda and walk to the pond.”

  “You have a pond?”

  “Stocked with fish and skipping stones.”

  “Skipping stones. Are those like Mexican jumping beans?”

  “Not at all.” I grabbed two cans from the refrigerator. “There are picnic table cloths on top of the fridge if you want to grab one so we have something to sit on.”

  Grant reached up to grab a red and white checkered tablecloth.

  Crash!

  The distinct sound of metal crunching against metal came from the side of the house.

  “What was that?” Grant jerked around and bam, his elbow smacked into my nose. I dropped the sodas and stumbled back a step. I saw sta
rs. My eyes filled with tears, and I couldn’t breathe.

  “Shit, Zoe. Are you all right?”

  I gasped out a no.

  …

  Grant

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “Mrs. Cain,” I called out for Zoe’s grandmother.

  The front door flew open and Jack stormed in. “How could you be so stupid? Why would you park—”

  “Shut up. Your sister is bleeding.”

  Her grandmother came rushing in. “What happened?”

  “The sound of Jack hitting my car startled me and I accidentally elbowed Zoe in the face.” I squatted down by her. “I am so sorry. Let me see.” Zoe dropped her hands and what I saw punched me in the gut. Blood streamed from her nose down her chin. It looked like she was having trouble breathing.

  “Breathe through your mouth,” her brother said. “Here’s a towel.”

  Her grandmother took the towel and held it under Zoe’s nose. “I need to see if it’s broken.” She touched the bridge of Zoe’s nose, making her wince. “I don’t think it’s broken. Grant, get a cold pack from the freezer.”

  I opened the freezer and grabbed one of those blue gel packs, which I handed to Zoe. “I am so sorry.”

  “It was an accident,” Zoe mumbled through the towel.

  “Yeah, well I still feel like a jerk.”

  “Take some Tylenol.” Zoe’s grandmother handed her the pills plus a glass of water. “At least it’s the weekend. Most of the swelling should go down by Monday.”

  Zoe dropped the towel. “But the dance is tomorrow.”

  She looked like she was in a lot of pain and now she was upset about the stupid dance. How could I make this right? “There’s another dance at Christmas. We can go to that one.”

  “Okay.” She held the ice to the bridge of her nose.

  “Now that this situation is under control, let’s go look at the cars,” her grandmother said.

  It didn’t seem right to leave Zoe sitting here by herself. “Be right back.”

  On the way out the door, Jack started in again, “Zoe should have known better than to let you park in my spot.”

  “How could you not see my car?” I headed down the porch steps and rounded the corner of the house.

  “Why would I look for a black sports car in the dark?”

  “Boys, what’s done is done. Let’s assess the damage and contact your insurance companies.”

 

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