Don't Kiss the Class Clown (Billionaire Academy YA Romance Book 4)

by Sally Henson

  That was easy. “Okay.” I leaned down, ready to plant a quick peck on his nose.

  “Kiss me like a promise.”

  The adrenaline of war underwent a transmutation of excitement I often felt when Ryan’s sweet words and kisses were involved. Right before our lips met, I claimed victory. “Gymzillas rule.”

  Chapter 32

  Alex hugged me so tight I thought she would crush my lungs. “Promise you’ll come visit.” It wasn’t a question but a demand. She’d landed a number four position on UCLA’s women’s gymnastics team. Her parents allowed it with the caveat of reevaluating her goals and options every year.

  After I was released to physical activity beyond running, I began to integrate gymnastics skills into my workouts. I found out I still loved it, but the drive was different.

  I squeaked and pulled away, sucking in a deep breath. “I promise I’ll talk to my parents about it. They’ll probably let me.”

  “I can’t thank you enough.” She sniffed, blinking away the tears, and said, “For everything.” Alexa had become a friend. An unlikely pair, since she hadn’t been able to stand me when I’d first come. But competition can sometimes do that. We both learned that lesson.

  “You had it in you; I just lit a fire under you.” I had given her a few tips, critiqued her when she did her routines, and coached her from my perspective. I guessed it worked. “Good luck.”

  “Girl, you’d better answer when I call or message.”

  I snickered. “Same.”

  She said her goodbyes to the team that was left, and she slid into the car waiting to take her to the airport. We all waved until she was out of sight.

  Ryan loaded the car as I hugged my teammates goodbye. Whether I would be able to practice gymnastics again was still up in the air. If I got another concussion too soon, I could have complications later in life. Mom had made a summer appointment with a specialist in Houston. I was hopeful he would help me make a decision.

  After the three of us parked Ryan’s car in the garage of his house in Legacy Lake, his driver took us to the airport. I’d worn a pair of skinny jeans. Gamela introduced me to clothing I wasn’t accustomed to wearing, including jeans and a HeartCandy T-shirt. I’d bought one for each of us online as a promise to go to one of their concerts next year.

  My sweaty palms smoothed across the top of my thighs. I checked my hair and mascara in my phone’s mirror. If I wasn’t constantly moving, I thought I might explode.

  “Nervous much?” Gamela asked.

  I stuck out my tongue.

  “Child,” she scoffed mockingly.

  Ryan slid his arm across my shoulders and tucked me to his side. His gentle whisper of a voice and his cologne soothed my jittery muscles. “She loves you already. Enjoy the ride. And you’d better get used to me being this close to you every second possible for the next two weeks.”

  I grinned up at him. That was not a problem. More like I couldn’t wait to lie on a beach and relax in another first with him. “Have I told you I haven’t been to Fiji before?”

  His grin widened. I loved the way his eyes softened when we talked about all the new things we’d done together and all the new things we’d planned for this summer, next year, the following summer, and hopefully our freshman year at the university we hadn’t quite decided on.

  “You can give goo-goo eyes when I’m not around or paying attention. This back seat is too small of a space for kissy face.” She rolled her eyes, but she was only half griping.

  We arrived at the private jet area of the airport. Much less traffic to bother with. Three jets were close to the building, and my heart sped, thinking about meeting Ryan’s mom. It was only minutes from the moment we stepped out of the car until we were climbing the stairs of the plane.

  “You look great. You are great. And so am I,” Gamela said in my ear before we made it to the top step.

  Mrs. Jacobs looked just like her photos: tall, thin, elegant, and beautiful. She embraced Ryan as soon as he greeted her. Before she released him, she gave both Gamela and me a wink. “Introduce me to your friends.” Her voice was light. Which was a relief. I wasn’t sure if she was entirely happy to be flying so far away and meeting people she didn’t know.

  Ryan turned to me and slid his arm around my waist, bringing me closer to the most important woman in his life. “Mom, this is my very special friend and girlfriend, Ally. Ally, this is my very special mom, Julia.”

  I reached my hand out to shake hers. “Mrs. Jacobs, I’m so happy to meet you.”

  “Oh, that accent,” she said, patting her son’s shoulder before engulfing me in a hug. “Ally, dear, you are the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.” She released me. “You can call me Julia.”

  Ryan chuckled. “That’s not likely, Mom. Addressing you as Mrs. Jacobs shows respect in her culture.”

  I squeezed my brows together. My culture?

  He winked, setting me at ease. “This is my good friend, Gamela.”

  “Hi, there.”

  Mrs. Jacobs hugged her too.

  The steward closed the door and asked us to take our seats. The plush, creamy leather was as comfortable as it looked. Gamela sat across from me, and Ryan held true to keep me close to his side on the two-seater sofa. His mom sat directly across from him. Cozy.

  Gamela’s mom was joining us at a stop in Los Angeles, and then my parents would meet us as the hotel in Fiji.

  I’d seen photos online of the clear, turquoise waters and white beaches. Meeting his mom, flying on a personal jet, vacationing with my boyfriend, going to Fiji … four more firsts we got to share. It helped me to see what I’d missed out on while my nose was in the gym forty-plus hours a week.

  Ryan squeezed my hand as we sped down the runway. I wasn’t sure of the moment of liftoff, because the thrill bouncing around my insides started as soon as he sat next to me and held my hand.

  So many life-changing things had happened in such a short time. I didn’t believe in fate. My life was full of choices. If I had chosen to not put up a fight and move with my parents, I would never have attended Mt. Rainier Legacy Academy, never found my best friend, Gamela.

  But most of all, I never would have kissed the class clown.

  Epilogue

  After I had gotten ready for the evening out, I decided to turn down the lights of Ryan’s guest room. New York City was excitingly bright at night. Headlights mingled with the streetlamps, building lights, and marquees. I had stood at this very spot twice over the summer, doing the exact same thing, but it still amazed me.

  A soft knock sounded on the open door. I refocused my gaze from the nightlife below to the reflection of the handsome boy behind me. Ryan stood in the doorway, one hand in his pocket and the other brushing across his face.

  I sighed at the sight of him. He looked like a movie star, an elegant figure who had taken over my heart.

  He whistled low and crooned, “That dress.” Slow as molasses, he crossed the room.

  I didn’t know if he could see what was written on my face or not, but Ryan Jacobs in a black tuxedo and tie was breathtaking.

  He met my gaze of our mirrored reflections, sliding his hands around my waist. The rugged sea spray cologne I’d picked out in Fiji shrouded me too, and I melted into him. The combination had that effect on me. “What are you doing in the dark?” he asked.

  He gave the best hugs, and I held his arms around my middle to let him know. “It still amazes me. All the lights and business. And even this high up, you can hear the noise.”

  His chest expanded against my back as he took in my perfume. “You smell sweet as honey,” he said in his best Texan accent. It was lousy, but he’d been working on it all summer. I didn’t have it in me to burst his bubble. Even with a fake accent, the way his voice warmed when he said sweet things like that made me feel like I was in a movie too.

  I grinned at his reflection. “You look exceptionally dashing tonight.”

  “Dashing,” he repeated with a chuckle. “Tonight wo
uld be so boring if you hadn’t come out. I don’t know why the ballet always has tragic endings. Who wants to leave depressed? At least tonight is supposed to be a short comedy.”

  “Tonight the ballet, Monday MLA.” I snickered at my attempt at a joke.

  “Not bad,” he said with a chuckle. He pressed his cheek to mine. “A whole month apart drove me and my mom crazy; I wouldn’t have been able to handle all summer.” His thumb gently rubbed over the fabric of the dress at my waist. “I’m ready to go back to school so I can see you every day.”

  “Me too.”

  Tonight was a special fundraiser at the ballet his mom had helped organize. Over the summer, Ryan had kept his promise to show me New York City. He’d thrown in some touristy places, but the ballet was on hiatus and we didn’t get to go. The dress, the shoes, and the updo hair were a result of a moms’ and daughter day out. When I say moms, I mean my mom as well as Ryan’s. It wasn’t as awkward as it’d been at the beginning of our trip to Fiji.

  “Maybe we should leave tomorrow instead of Monday,” he mused, turning me in his arms and planting a kiss. “Please tell me you’re taking this dress with us.”

  “Is that your way of asking me to homecoming?” Since Ryan had given me a crash course last spring and over the summer, I was getting better at teasing and joking. And not being in the gym every day. The neurologist I saw was willing to release me to participate in gymnastics as long as I didn’t push myself as if I were training for the Olympics. I agreed to the condition and hoped that the competitor in me could be controlled. I had a good friend and a boyfriend that would help with that.

  “Homecoming, Valentine’s, prom, every single event, dance, whatever for our entire senior year. I want them all with you. And the year after that. I’m ready to tell our parents we’re going to Austin.”

  I held my breath when my belly flipped at the news. “Are you sure?” I asked. The subject of going to the same university had come up the last time we’d been together. He had considered going to his dad’s alma mater, Princeton. “I don’t want you to give anything up for me.”

  “I could live on a beach and take online classes the first two years and it wouldn’t matter. What does matter is us.”

  “Let’s not say anything to my parents yet. After Fiji, Dad went all protective father on me. He’d just hyperventilate for no reason.”

  “Speaking of hyperventilating … Did I mention you took my breath away the moment I saw you standing here? Mom said you looked like a dream.” The back of his fingers traced my jawline. His skin, cool on mine, sparked warmth inside me. “A dream come true.”

  I slid my hands around his neck. His ocean eyes sent hurricane-sized tidal waves crashing in my belly. “Are you getting serious on me?”

  His voice dropped in the way that caused my heart to flutter. “Absolutely. I’d like to seriously kiss you right now.”

  Warmth, flips, tidal waves, flutters … I was quickly becoming a force of nature. And all the feels made my brain go a little fuzzy. I answered in a whisper, “Please do.”

  He leaned in and pressed his lips to mine in a sigh-worthy kiss.

  A clearing of the throat by my dad ended our connection. The lights flipped on, and he grumbled, “Time to go.”

  It wasn’t as if the hall light wasn’t shining in the room or I had the door closed and locked.

  “See?” I said, sliding my hand in Ryan’s. “Caveman dad.”

  Dad grunted and waited for us to step out of the room. He’d taken a week off to see me before school began. After the Fiji vacation, Dad had begun to question his decision to put me in boarding school. He’d suggested I move with them and finish high school traveling the Middle East and Europe instead. Mom had already shared her experiences of Saudi Arabia and United Arab Emeritus areas. It wasn’t a place I wanted to spend a lot of time in.

  Ryan pulled his phone from his inside coat pocket. The frown caused by Dad disappeared. “They’re here,” Ryan said. “Just stepped inside the building.”

  “Both of them?” I asked.

  He nodded.

  I giggled. Gamela and I hadn’t been able to connect over the summer in person. It just didn’t work out, but … “Eek!” She was downstairs.

  He showed me his screen, a selfie of our best friends together with Jack, the doorman.

  I gasped. “She looks gorgeous.” The smoky eye she had going on made her look more exotic than ever. And her sleek hair … “I’m so jealous of her hair. I’ve always had a crush on it.”

  Ryan burst out laughing. “Just when I think you’ve got it all together, you go teenage girl on me.”

  “Mom,” I called, ignoring Ryan’s dumb joke. I clacked across the marble floors in my two-inch heels, phone in hand. I’d tried three-inch heels just so I could be closer to Ryan’s height. Nope! Not submitting myself to that kind of torture for him.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked, standing at the island with Mrs. Jacobs.

  “Gamela …” I showed them the photo.

  Mom’s eyes widened. “Goodness.”

  “It amazes me how dazzling she becomes with just a bit of makeup,” Mrs. Jacobs said. “She and Simon make a fine-looking couple. Don’t you think?”

  “Mom,” Ryan warned. “Please don’t go there. They’re just friends because they’re our friends.”

  I handed Ryan his phone, and he sent a message that we were on our way down.

  The ballet ended in laughter, no tragedy whatsoever. It was late. And I should have been tired, but I was the opposite. The excitement of the fundraiser and ballet and our friends meeting us and the eve of school … I could have stayed up the rest of the night.

  Ryan caught my hand as I stepped out of the car. “Your first ballet,” he said with a grin.

  I returned his expression. “With you.”

  His mom had a few things to take care of, my parents were already at the door of the building, and Gamela and Simon were getting out of the car behind us.

  “Are you tired?” he asked.

  I quickly shook my head. “After this night? Not even close.”

  His grin widened. “Good.”

  We entered his building, the six of us taking the elevator to Ryan’s floor. We drank club soda with lime around the kitchen island, listening to me gush about the graceful power and beautiful lines of the dancers. I had taken ballet as a little girl, but gymnastics was my thing. Now that I was a little older, I understood and appreciated the training and dedication it had taken each of the dancers to get where they were.

  Ryan gave Simon a look, a silent message, before taking my hand and asking my parents, “Would you like to join us on the roof?”

  My dad nodded, but Mom said, “I think we’re ready to turn in. You kids go ahead. Just don’t fall off.”

  Dad scowled at her, but she just patted his arm.

  “Night,” I said, giving them a finger wave as we got on the elevator.

  Ryan’s apartment was the top floor of the building. The penthouse had three bedrooms, three and a half baths, and an open kitchen living area. Mrs. Jacobs had insisted that my parents stay as well as Simon and Gamela. That left one bedroom for Gamela and me to share, and the boys could crash on the large sofas.

  We reached the rooftop. Twinkle lights lined the sides. I giggled Ryan's name. “One of these days you’re going to run out of crazy romantic ideas.”

  He pressed a button on his phone, and music came on. “I doubt it,” he said, full of confidence.

  “My mate fell in love with you the day you showed up to class with that scooter,” Simon said with a chuckle. “He drove me and all the other guys crazy trying to get rid of any equipment Dr. Dave had.”

  Gamela gasped. “I knew it!”

  My mouth gapped open before I said to Ryan, “You did not.” He got rid of everything so he could carry me around all the time?

  He shrugged. “Guilty and not ashamed.”

  “That’s…weird and sweet,” I said, pushing up on my toes to kiss him.


  “Come on, Gamela. Let’s leave these two to their snogging,” Simon said and escorted her to take in the skyline view.

  Snog, I’d learned, was British slang for kiss. We snogged and danced to some of Ryan’s dad’s favorite jazz music. It was weird, at first, listening to the old stuff. But after hearing the good memories it gave Ryan, I decided I like it.

  His warm breath tickled the bare skin below my ear, causing goose bumps, when he said, “Dancing on the rooftop. Another first.” He brushed his lips on the same spot. “Despite his ‘caveman’ ways—” He chuckled, referring to my earlier comment about Dad. “—I think he likes me.”

  I teased him. “How can anyone not like Ryan Jacobs?”

  “I don’t care who does or doesn’t like me. As long as Ally ‘Gymzilla’ Woods does.”

  There he went, taking another piece of my heart. My birthday wish was already coming true.

  Don’t miss one of the Billionaire Academy YA Romance books! Check them all out today by clicking here.

  Also by Sally Henson

  More Than Best Friends Series

  More Than A Kiss

  More Than Each Other

  More Than A Secret

  Cameron (a More Than Best Friends companion novel)

  Spark (a More Than Best Friends short story in The Art of Taking Chances anthology)

  More Than His Best Friend (a More Than Best Friends prequel)

  Flirting With The Enemy a sweet YA stand-alone (Boys of Summer multi-author series)

  The Kissing Tutor a sweet YA stand-alone (Sweet Water High multi-author series)

  About the Author

  Sally is an author of teen and young adult contemporary romance. She combines ingredients of reality with a dreamer's imagination to create sweet and delectable fiction.

  On the occasion when she's not busy working, writing, or spending time with her family, she loves to watch the sun rise and set--capturing the beauty with her camera--and sometimes reads into the wee hours.