Kiss Me Slow (Top Shelf Romance Book 1)

by Tijan

  Aha. So they would’ve been at the Jensens’ on Saturday. “Gotcha.”

  “Okay, Miss Malcolm.” The lady reached for the printer behind her and then extended the papers to me. “Here’s your class schedule, locker number, and combination, and you’ll have to stop in the nurse’s office. She’ll have a form to give to your parents to sign, giving us permission to give you pain pills or Band-Aids, things like that.” She plastered a nice smile on her face, one she’d probably used twenty other times this morning already. “Is your sister coming in?”

  Cora gasped.

  She didn’t know . . .

  The lady froze, noting my reaction and Cora’s. She was thinking, but I could tell she couldn’t figure it out. She cleared her throat, and when she spoke again, there was an authoritative and slightly condescending tone to her voice, as if we were wasting her time.

  “Your sister, Willow Malcolm? If she’s absent today, she’ll need a note. I only received the information for you, my dear.”

  I couldn’t say it. The words were stuck in my throat, and I hushed Cora before she could explain.

  My fingers were clumsy as I grabbed a pen and piece of paper off the lady’s desk.

  She died June 29th, I wrote. Not coming.

  I folded the paper over and then folded it again.

  Sliding it to her, I grabbed my stuff and hurried out of there. I didn’t want to be anywhere near her when she read it.

  I failed.

  I heard her gasp as the office door closed behind me.

  “The records must not be updated. Or the records at your old school weren’t updated. I don’t know.” Cora was right next to me, holding her books close to her chest.

  I was walking blind, no idea where I was going, and it took a moment before I regrouped.

  Locker. I needed to find my locker.

  Glancing down at the number, I realized I was in the wrong hallway. I’d have to walk back in front of the office again, and there was no way I wanted to do that.

  I read my first class and showed Cora the classroom number. “Where is this?”

  She bit her lip, tugging at her shirtsleeve. “It’s down the hallway.”

  That was welcome news, and I nodded. “I’m going to class.”

  “We still have twenty minutes—”

  I was already off. I called over my shoulder, “That’s fine with me.”

  I’d find my locker later.

  When I got to the room, the teacher wasn’t in, so I couldn’t ask if there would be assigned seating. I slid into the seat in the back row and farthest from the door. I still had my book bag with me, but I didn’t care. I pulled out a notebook and pencil, and I put my phone in my lap, making sure it was on silent. Then I looked out the window as everyone came in.

  Conversations slowed as people filled in around where I was sitting.

  I felt them watching me. I didn’t look. I couldn’t. A few tears slipped down, and I willed them to stop. I was doing a great impersonation of a statue.

  Perhaps that was what I’d be for Halloween.

  “Okay, everyone.” The teacher paused when the door opened.

  I finally looked around, surprised at who sat beside me. Before I could process that, a student darted into the classroom and handed a note to the teacher.

  As he stopped and read it, a weird déjà vu came over me.

  I knew. I knew what he was going to do next.

  The teacher stiffened, looking up. His eyes moved over the students, landing on me.

  Remorse flared in his eyes before he coughed, handed the student back the note, and murmured, “Maybe let the next teacher know as well. All of them, in fact.” He said it quietly, but I heard him in the back of the room.

  The school didn’t want teachers to make the same mistake as the office lady, so news of my sister’s death was circulating, room to room. No teacher would read the attendance sheet and ask for Willow Malcolm. No one would ask if we were sisters and where she was.

  It was a nice gesture, but I felt stripped raw anyway.

  I had a strong feeling the teacher wouldn’t call my name during attendance, and I was right. He named every other student in the room.

  When he called on Ryan’s friends—Nick and Tom—they replied “Here” from the seats around me, and I was grateful. I wasn’t sure if this was where they normally would’ve sat, but I’d take it.

  Their presence shielded me.

  Chapter Fourteen

  I was brave enough to sneak past the office after my second class. It was ridiculous. I was sandwiched inside a group of students, but I swear I felt the office lady watching me. I knew it couldn’t be true.

  Ryan came over as I was closing my locker to go to my fourth period. We had one more class before lunch, one more hour before goddamn freedom.

  “How’s it going?”

  And cue the other form of attention. I rested against my locker, looking down, but I could see from under my eyelashes. Oh yes, everyone was dying to know about Ryan and the mystery girl.

  “What are you? The Greek god of dating?”

  He smirked. “Hot shit. Did you already forget?”

  “Right. Eagle of hotness.”

  “Um, yeah.” His grin turned wicked, and he glanced around and saw all the attention too. Leaning closer, he dropped his voice. “For real. How are you? Cora told me about Margaret.”

  I took a leap and figured Margaret was the front desk lady. “I don’t really want to talk about it.”

  “Okay.” He gestured to the hallway. “What’s your next class?”

  “Espanol. Y tu?”

  “Si, si.” He nodded. “Come on. You can be my table partner.”

  I shot him a dry look, which he returned.

  Once we got there, I realized it wasn’t a seniors-only class. Erin and Peach were in one corner, and I couldn’t stop my groan. Ryan snorted. His hand came to the small of my back, and he urged me forward. We walked to the back of the class and the very last table in the room. A guy after my own heart. We both slid in, and as if they dropped out of midair, Tom and Nick came to occupy the table in front of us.

  “Hey, man.” Tom leaned over after the class started and worksheets were handed out. He did a fist-bumping thing with Ryan. Nick followed suit. Both looked at me, saw my face, and waved instead.

  “You made it out of first period unscathed,” Nick noted.

  “I did. Thanks for sitting by me.”

  He shrugged. “It’s cool. That’s where we sit anyway. Seemed fitting you were there already.”

  That was true.

  They began talking to Ryan about classes, a party already in the works, and girls. I felt their glances, but I tuned them out.

  I wished I cared. I really did, but I didn’t.

  I felt her everywhere.

  Sitting next to me.

  Standing with me.

  Walking beside me.

  She was me, but I wasn’t her anymore.

  I glanced at Ryan from the corner of my eye.

  I’d latched on to him. He was a bandage over my wounds—covering them but not really healing them. They were still raw and open, but I was hoping to move fast enough that my insides wouldn’t spill out everywhere.

  I was no longer a part of any of this, any of these people. I was on the outside, and I was the only one who really understood that.

  No one else around me could claim to be a twinless twin. But that was my new identity.

  I could almost hear Willow yelling at me, Those girls need to be taught a lesson. They aren’t the queens anymore. We rule now. You and me, Mac. The Willow Mac Attack. That’s you and me.

  “Mac?”

  I drew in a ragged breath. I could fucking hear her.

  Her hand touched my arm. “Mac?”

  I screamed, lurching out of my chair. Scrambling backward, my back hit the wall, and I gaped at where I’d been sitting.

  Everyone was watching me.

  Ryan’s hand stretched out toward where I’
d been sitting. He slowly closed it into a fist and turned around in his chair toward me. He bent forward, resting his hands on his legs. “Mackenzie?”

  God. It wasn’t her. Ryan had touched me. Ryan had only used her nickname for me.

  “I . . .”

  “What’s wrong with her?” Tom whispered.

  Nick threw him a disgusted look, slamming his elbow into his chest.

  “Ouch.”

  As the teacher rounded the tables, heading toward me, Ryan stood and got between us. He blocked me from the rest of the class at the same time.

  “What’s the problem?” the teacher asked.

  I heard chairs scrape against the floor, and soon Tom and Nick were standing in front of me as well. All three of them shielded me. The gesture was so sweet, so kind, that I almost lost it again.

  I reached out, grabbing Ryan’s shirt, and he sucked in his breath at the touch.

  His voice came out a little strained. “She, uh—she needs a minute.”

  I bent my head forward, my forehead resting against Ryan’s back.

  “Well, take her outside,” the teacher added softly. “I know about—”

  “Will do,” Ryan cut him off.

  He swept his arm backward, sliding it around my waist, and pulled me with him. Twisting against his chest, I walked with him toward the door.

  “My stuff,” I mumbled.

  “Tom and Nick will grab it for us.”

  Then we were out in the hallway, but Ryan didn’t pause. He let go of my waist and threaded our fingers together. Tugging me behind him, he stopped at his locker, grabbed his bag and keys, and took me to mine.

  “Combo.” He pointed to it.

  I didn’t want to let go of his hand, but I did, unlocking my locker.

  Grabbing my backpack and some of my books, he paused. “You have your phone?”

  I nodded before reaching to get it.

  Then he shut my door.

  Slinging both backpacks over his shoulder, he threaded our fingers again, and we walked to the parking lot. We were skipping school. Only a few students were in the hallway, but all of them watched us go, their eyes on our hands. No one stopped us.

  We were pushing out the doors as a guy in a black bomber jacket came in the opposite way. He had long black hair, dark eyes, and a sneer that turned into a frown when he saw Ryan.

  “Hey, man.” He stopped, his hand catching the door as Ryan let it go. “Where are you going?”

  Ryan’s hand tightened over mine. His jaw clenched. “The fuck? You’re back here now?”

  They knew each other; that was obvious. But there was something else there.

  Cousins, maybe? Maybe they were family?

  The guy ignored Ryan’s question, his dark eyes sliding over me. He’d been chewing on the end of a pen, and he took it out, pointing at me. “You’re skipping with a chick? Am I in an alternate universe? Did we switch roles?” He looked at Ryan. “Are you the badass rebel and I’m the basketball star?”

  “Fuck off, Kirk.” But Ryan seemed to lose his heat. He started grinning and rolled his eyes. “You’re a pain in my ass.”

  Kirk cocked his head to the side, popping that pen back in his mouth. “Tell me something different. You’ve been a pain in my ass since we were kids.”

  Ryan laughed, and as Kirk held up a fist, Ryan met it with his free one.

  They gave each other a sideways hug, and then Kirk nodded at me again. “Who’s the chick? I thought I was the only bad influence on you.”

  Ryan lifted our linked hands, nodding toward me. “Mackenzie.”

  I waited for more of an explanation. Apparently, so did Kirk. We both looked at Ryan, but his mouth was set in a firm line. That was all he had to say.

  Good.

  I hid a grin. There she was—my twin speaking in my head like she was with me.

  Kirk nodded slowly. “Nice.” He held his hand up, his grin becoming wicked. “Nice to meet you, Mackenzie. I’m Ryan’s real best friend. The others are just posers.”

  “Nice try.” Ryan rolled his eyes again, knocking Kirk’s hand down. “What are you doing here for real? You’re coming back?”

  The rebel-smooth-Casanova look faded. “Yeah. My folks are divorcing. I’m surprised Nan didn’t tell you. I’m back with my dad.”

  “Emily?”

  “My little sister stayed with Mom. They’re down in Los Angeles.”

  Ryan winced. “I’m sorry, man.”

  “Yeah, well . . .” Kirk’s eyes found mine again. A mischievous spark lit there. “Looks like you’ve been busy.”

  “It isn’t like that,” Ryan replied. His words seemed defensive, but his tone wasn’t. He spoke as if they were discussing the weather. “We’re taking off for the day.”

  Kirk nodded. “Don’t worry. I’ll watch over the posers.”

  “Be nice to Tom!” Ryan yelled as his friend headed inside.

  A hand in the air was Kirk’s response.

  Ryan sighed, still watching his buddy.

  “I’ll be fine.”

  He looked at me, frowning slightly. “Hmm?”

  I waved in the direction Kirk had gone. “If you want to go talk to him more, I can head out on my own.”

  “I gave you a ride here.”

  I shrugged. “I can call a car. That’s no problem.”

  He shook his head. “No way. Kirk’s crazy. I’m not this golden boy who doesn’t do anything wrong. You’re my excuse to skip today. I’m actually using you.”

  “Are you sure?”

  He still seemed worried about his friend, but he nodded with a soft smile. Letting go of my hand, he threw his arm around my shoulders and pulled me into his side. “Let’s go before the bell rings and the guys run out here.”

  We didn’t quite make it.

  The bell rang as we were getting into Ryan’s truck. Students were heading out for lunch as we left the parking lot.

  “So.” Ryan glanced over. “Where we headed?”

  I couldn’t figure this guy out.

  He’d wanted to skip school. I really was his excuse, but then his friend had shown up. The other guys he hung out with seemed like normal, loyal friends. Kirk seemed more dangerous.

  Willow would’ve been all about Ryan until she learned that, until she got a glimpse that he wasn’t the pretty boy/good guy she’d made him out to be.

  Looking at Ryan, another small thrill coursed through me.

  Maybe he was the guy I would’ve gone after in the first place. Willow could step aside.

  “I don’t care,” I told him. “Anywhere is good.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  We went to my house.

  It wasn’t original, but it made sense. My parents were both in the city at their jobs. They’d be gone till seven or even eight in the evening, and there was no Robbie during the week anymore.

  Ryan didn’t have the same emptiness at his place with his mom in and out, Peach coming home after school, and the staff.

  So my house it was.

  Going into the kitchen, I dropped my bag onto the counter and picked up a delivery menu. “We could order food since it’s technically lunchtime.”

  Ryan smirked, jumping up to sit on the counter next to my bag. His feet almost touched the floor. “Whatever you want. You guys have food here?”

  I opened the fridge.

  Lettuce. Milk. Cheese. Two cartons of yogurt and some apples. The freezer wasn’t any better: some diet ice cream bars for Mom.

  I closed both doors and picked up the menu again. “Ordering it is.”

  He nodded. “Sounds good to me. Order whatever. I’ll pay.”

  I grinned over the top of the menu, reaching for the landline phone. “Are we on a skip date?”

  “We’re on a skip day, and you can pay next time if you want.”

  I laughed, the sound a little hollow. “Deal.”

  After ordering pizza, we grabbed some drinks and headed into the theater room. I kept the door open and my phone close by so I co
uld hear when the food arrived.

  Ryan followed me in, lying on one of the couches and resting his arm up over the back. He kicked his legs up on the chair in front of him. I started to perch next to him, but he grunted and reached for me, hauling me almost onto his lap.

  “What are you doing?” he grumbled. “After last night, you’re shy?”

  I felt the back of my neck heating up and looked at my hands in my lap. “Yeah, actually.”

  “What?” He pulled back so he could better see my face. “Really?”

  I looked up. “I don’t really know what I’m doing day to day,” I admitted. “Hell, even hour to hour.”

  I kept to myself how I could almost see Willow sitting on the far end of the couch. She was everywhere.

  “I’m going a little nuts.”

  He shrugged, taking the remote from me. His hand brushed against mine, leaving a tingle in its wake.

  “I think if you weren’t, something would be wrong.”

  I leaned my head back, watching him as he turned on the large screen and began scrolling through the channels.

  “You think?”

  His eyes found mine again, holding them a moment before softening. “Yeah. My friend died, and I wanted to rail at everyone. They acted like I was supposed to be over it and done by the time school started again. I got a four-day weekend to mourn. My parents didn’t understand why I wasn’t so interested in doing things afterward.”

  “What do you mean?” I sat up next to him, but he grabbed my legs and pulled them onto his lap. His thumb rubbed the inside of my calf.

  He leaned back, turning toward the screen again, but he wasn’t watching it. A mask settled over his face, one I was starting to recognize—it fell into place any time he talked to someone who wasn’t one of his friends or me. Even his sister got the mask.

  “I don’t know.” His chest rose silently and then fell again. “He died during the winter, at the end of our holiday break, so football was done by then. But I probably would’ve quit that. I played basketball, kinda had to. The whole town would have erupted if I hadn’t, but I quit everything else. Baseball. Anything extra I was supposed to do. My parents were having a crisis. They didn’t know what was going on with me. I stopped giving a shit about anything they did.” He laughed quietly. “I smoked a lot of pot that year with Kirk. Drank a lot too.”