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The Complete Kiss Me Series

Page 9

by Emma Hart


  “I’m going to win,” I said resolutely. “But you two have to come in and kiss my cheek. I need your help to make sure he loses.”

  Reagan rubbed her hand down her face. “Halley, have you thought this through?”

  “No.”

  She blinked as if she was expecting me to argue. “Okay, fine, listen to me. If Preston loses, he’ll probably kiss you properly.”

  “That’s what she’s counting on, dufus,” Ava chimed in.

  Reagan elbowed her, making her miss her mouth with her ketchup-laden fry and hit her cheek instead. Ava scowled at her.

  “He’ll do the very thing you tried to avoid just twenty-four hours ago. Are you really sure it’s a good idea?” Reagan carried on. “I know how you feel about him. Do you really want to live the rest of your life knowing what it’s like to kiss someone you don’t think you can ever be with?”

  “The way I see it, it’ll go one of two ways.” I held up two fries. “One, he knows that cheek kissing is a legit way to hold up the bet, so he’ll kiss my cheek. If he does that, he doesn’t find me attractive.”

  “He’s an idiot because I’d do you if I were a guy,” Ava added.

  “I’d do me, too,” I replied, making Reagan roll her eyes. “Two, if he actually kisses me properly. Then I’ll know that maybe you weren’t far off the mark, and I can decide what to do about it. No, don’t roll your eyes again.”

  “I can’t help it. This is so high school. I’ve never understood why you don’t just tell him you have a crush on him.” Reagan shook her head as we walked.

  “Same reason Ava’s never told Ethan.”

  “Actually, I’ve never mentioned that because I’m pretty sure my brother would go apeshit if I banged his best friend.” Ava tucked her black hair behind her ear. “Also, I’ve been with Butler for ages. As for you… Reagan doesn’t care if you bang her brother.”

  Reagan tilted her head to the side. “She’s right. I really don’t care. In fact, I’d be happy that the years of mooning over him would finally be over.”

  “I do not moon over anyone,” I replied shortly. “You are the one with the obsession over my feelings, not me.” I paused to throw my trash in the almost-overflowing trash can and licked my fingers. “I’m going to do this, and you’re going to help me win. Line up three times if you have to. I’ll even give you the money to do it. I have to win.”

  My best friends shared a look.

  “Fine,” Reagan said, resigned. “Although I think this is a terrible idea.”

  “All the best ideas start out as terrible ones.” I grinned and waltzed off toward the kissing booth tent.

  I was going to kick his ass.

  ***

  “I’m pretty sure that’s cheating,” Preston said through the curtain after Reagan and Ava had dropped their third kisses on my cheeks.

  “What’s cheating?” I said innocently. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “I know what you’re doing, Halley. You recruited Tweedledee and Tweedledum to kiss you repeatedly so you’d win.”

  “It doesn’t matter how the money gets raised, Preston.”

  “I’m not talking about the money. I’m talking about your blatant effort to beat me in the bet today.”

  I glanced at my board that had a healthy number on it already. “That is the point of a bet, isn’t it? To win?”

  “I should have asked Lindsay to help me out.”

  I bristled. I really hated her. “Why? Is she your type?”

  “So what if she is?”

  “I was only asking. There’s no need to get defensive.”

  “You’re the one who got defensive. There are people in Maine who heard that bitterness.”

  “Whatever. Don’t get your panties in a twist just because I’m winning,” I shot back, straightening myself on the stool as more people were let into the tent.

  “We’ll see,” Preston replied.

  We would see. I was going to win this today—and nothing would change that. Plus, thanks to Reagan and Ava, I already knew I was winning by ten clear points.

  It didn’t sound like a lot, but that was ten kisses.

  And ten kisses was a lot.

  I turned my attention away from him and to the young guy who was approaching the stage. There were only forty-five minutes left of the booth today. There was no doubt this would be the worst forty-five minutes of the week.

  Regret was starting to seep in over the bet I’d brought back to life.

  What if Preston did kiss me properly? What did it mean? Did it mean he did like me like that? I still couldn’t see it in my mind—we were different people—but what if he did?

  Jesus, I was like a schoolgirl over here.

  What had I done to myself?

  Why had I agreed to his bet in the first place?

  Reagan was right. This was a terrible idea.

  Terrible, terrible, terrible.

  My stomach was already fluttering like a group of butterflies had been let loose in there. I had to lose, didn’t I? Then he’d win the bet, and I could kiss his other cheek so he had one on either side.

  Matching kisses.

  Person after person moved their way across my stage, dropping one-dollar bills into the bucket and stopping to kiss me. I kissed lips and cheeks and hands. I had my cheeks kissed, and my dad even stopped by and kissed my forehead with a wink.

  It was the only bright spot of the day.

  Mostly because he was still there by the time the booth closed, and him being here meant that the inevitable was delayed for a little longer.

  “Hey, Dad!” I jumped off the stage, my sneakers squeaking against the wood, and he wrapped me in a hug.

  “Hey, Halley. I’m doing a walk around of the fair and thought I’d stop in and see my favorite girl.” He squeezed me against his side. “Has your mother stopped by yet?”

  “No. She hates the smell of the tent.”

  Dad paused and sniffed. “I suppose it does smell a bit like dust and stale hot dogs, doesn’t it? Is that a half-eaten churro in your bucket, Preston?”

  Preston slid the bucket over to him, and the way his nose wrinkled answered the question right away. “People are gross.”

  I nodded my agreement. “Well, looks like you’re doing the bank run today because I’m not touching that money.”

  “It’s just churro.”

  “That wasn’t mine.” I gave him a pointed look. “Keep an eye on your bucket.”

  He saluted me. “Yes, ma’am. Are you sure you don’t want to run for office one day?”

  I pursed my lips.

  Dad chuckled, releasing me. “She’s far too impatient for that. Plus she won’t be able to read, and we all know that’s a deal-breaker.”

  “You say it like I permanently have a book attached to my person,” I grumbled, knowing it wasn’t far from the truth.

  “Do you have a book in your purse right now?”

  I opened my mouth to respond but stopped. I did. A worn-out copy of Little Women was nestled in the zip pouch of my purse to keep it safe. “That’s really not important.”

  Both of them laughed at me.

  “How’s it going?” Dad asked, going to Preston’s side. “Are you knocking my daughter off her pedestal yet?”

  Preston snorted. “It’s not for lack of trying, sir. But it’s a little tough when she recruits her friends to come and kiss her cheeks over and over.”

  “Halley!”

  “It’s his fault!” I pointed at Preston. “He started a stupid bet, and now it’s best of three, and I lost yesterday! I can’t help it if I’m a naturally competitive person. You’re the mayor. I get it from you.”

  Dad raised his gaze to the ceiling and moved his lips.

  He was counting to ten.

  He did that when either me or my stepmom, Abigail, had just outsmarted him.

  “What’s the price for the loser?”

  “Fifty dollars in the other’s bucket and five kisses on the tally,”
Preston answered quickly. “High stakes.”

  “Who’s won then?”

  “We don’t know yet,” I said hesitantly. “We haven’t looked since you got here.”

  Dad straightened the collar of his short-sleeved, white shirt and went to my side. “Well, I’ll be the independent judge and tally them up, shall I?”

  “Be our guest.”

  Preston jumped off the stage and came over to me. “I’m not giving you fifty bucks,” he muttered.

  “You have to at least pretend.” I shrugged one shoulder. “He’s going to expect it to be done in front of him.”

  He groaned. “You’re wiping the kisses off the tally, though. No cheating.”

  “Only because I’m kicking your ass. You’d keep them if they were yours.” I nudged him with my elbow. “Don’t be salty.”

  “That’s not what we bet.”

  “I know, but it’s fun watching you lose.”

  Dad slipped through the curtain to tally Preston’s kisses for the day.

  “You know,” Preston said, leaning into me and turning his head so his breath tickled my cheek. “If I lose, I’m not pulling that bullshit you did yesterday.”

  “Cheek kisses count. You know that.”

  “I do know that, but that wasn’t what I had in mind when I challenged you.”

  I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Are you telling me that you want to kiss me?”

  Without meaning or wanting to, I moved my own head and met his eyes. There was barely any space between us, and all it would take would be one wobble of balance and boom—I’d be kissing him.

  I adjusted my glasses and looked away before it went too far. My dad was right here, after all, and I wasn’t sure I wanted the answer to my question.

  “Done!” Dad joined us in the middle of the tent. “Preston, you kissed seventy-two people today, and Halley, you kissed eighty people exactly. You win.”

  Oh, hell.

  I lifted my shoulders to my ears and smiled sweetly at Preston. He swore under his breath and dug in his pocket for his wallet. I took the fifty he handed me with glee and moved to deposit it in my bucket.

  “Shall I add the extra five to my board, or would you like to do it?” I asked in an innocent tone.

  “I’ll do it in a minute.” He smirked. “One all, then.”

  “One all.”

  Dad glanced at his watch. “I have to go—good job here, kids, you’re doing great. Halley, I’ll call you tomorrow.”

  “Bye, sir,” Preston said as I tossed up a wave.

  My mouth dried out when the curtain fell closed. Preston’s bright blue eyes were focused completely on me, and his lips were curved into a smirk that was far too sexy to be fair.

  Something passed between us, something intangible that made my heart skip a beat.

  “So. That tally.” I jumped up and scrambled to my feet, looking for the marker to add the one kiss I was owed to my board.

  The wooden boards creaked as Preston joined me. My heart thumped against my ribs, and I froze when he stopped right behind me and took the marker from my hand. He didn’t move as he wrapped his arms around my upper body to uncap it.

  Very slowly, very carefully, and oh-so-deliberately, he drew one line next to the running tally on the board.

  I swallowed hard when he clicked the lid back on the pen. He dropped it, leaving it clattering to the floor, and moved. His chest brushed against my arm as he moved so he was standing in front of me instead.

  I was staring at his chest. I couldn’t look him in the eye, because I knew what was coming.

  The sooner I looked at him, the sooner it’d happen.

  “I never answered your question.”

  “What question?” I darted my eyes to the side.

  “Just now. You asked me if I wanted to kiss you.”

  I did, didn’t I? Right. “Oh,” was all I said.

  Slowly, he moved his hand to my chin and gently lifted it. Still, I didn’t look at him, keeping my eyes firmly trained on the front of the tent, even though I was facing him.

  “Halley.”

  “Yeah?”

  “I want to kiss you.”

  My eyes darted to his.

  “I thought that’d do it.” His lips twitched, and he lowered his head until I had to fight the urge to close my eyes in anticipation of the kiss that was coming.

  I swallowed, my lips parting.

  Preston moved closer.

  And he kissed my cheek.

  I jerked out of whatever trance I’d just been in. “What the hell?”

  He jumped off the stage, grinning. “I guess we’ll have to wait until tomorrow to break the stalemate, won’t we?”

  “Oh, hell no!” I jumped off, stalking him to his side of the stage. “You just stood there in front of me and told me you want to kiss me, then kiss my cheek? The hell was that?”

  His eyebrows shot up, amusement flashing in his eyes. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you wanted to kiss me, too.”

  “Irrelevant,” I shot back. “But you’re a special kind of asshole to tell a girl you wanna kiss her and then not do it.” I turned around, then stopped. “You know what? When I beat you tomorrow, you can kiss my ass.”

  “You’re way too mad about this.”

  “I’m not mad!” My voice raised a few octaves. “I couldn’t care if you want to kiss me or not. I most certainly don’t want to kiss you.”

  “Why are you shouting at me?”

  “I’m not—” I was shouting at him. “Whatever,” I said in a normal voice. “Make sure you take that money to the bank. Tell Tish I sent you.”

  I left him on his side of the curtain and went to get my purse. He could get fucked. After all that, where I think I was so damn nervous I broke a sweat, he didn’t even kiss me.

  I wasn’t lying with what I said.

  He could kiss my ass.

  I’d even wear my good panties and bend over for him.

  I snatched my purse up and turned my back to him, heading for the tent door. He was going to the bank thanks to the errant churro someone had dumped in his bucket, so I was done here for tonight.

  “Halley—”

  “I’ll see you tomorrow, Preston.” I shook my head and carried on walking through the tent.

  Why was I so mad?

  Earlier, I hadn’t even wanted it to happen. But it’d been so close. His lips had been only a breath away from mine, and it’d—

  You know what? It didn’t matter what it was. It hadn’t happened. If he wanted to kiss me, he would have. If he meant it, he wouldn’t have come so close to doing it, only to divert to my cheek.

  At least when I’d kissed his cheek, I’d gone straight in for the kill.

  There was a creak from behind me, and right as my fingers brushed the velvet curtains at the front of the tent, a strong hand gripped my wrist and yanked.

  I spun on the balls of my feet, my sneakers digging into the grass and kicking up dirt. I lost my balance and quickly tried to regain it with one foot behind me, but I barely had a chance to do that before I lost it again.

  This time, I fell into a hard body.

  I opened my mouth to cry out, but Preston’s hand cupped the back of my neck. Before I could say a word, his lips were on mine.

  Shock rocketed through my body, swiftly followed by what felt all too much like an electric current that made all the hairs on my arms stand on end.

  His lips were full and soft, and his kiss was firm and probing. He was unapologetic in his exploration of my mouth as our bodies moved closer to each other.

  My heart was beating double-time, thundering against my ribs, sending shocks of pleasure through my entire body. It wound itself into tight knots of tension that settled in my shoulders and my stomach.

  Except my stomach was flipping, and I had no control over my body as my hands sought to find Preston. Within seconds of me realizing it, my fingers were wound in the sides of his shirt, and my body was flat against his.

 
; And his kiss—oh, my God, it was the kind of kiss people wrote poems about. A kiss that touched every part of me, one that would linger in both my memory and on my lips for a long, long, time.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  * * *

  PRESTON

  My fingers crept beneath the fabric of Halley’s shirt and splayed across her lower back.

  She tasted like coffee and cotton candy. It was the weirdest mix, but on her, it made sense. It was how I’d always expected her to taste—strong yet sweet, exhilarating and heady.

  I was lost in her. Completely. Fucking utterly, utterly lost. Never had a kiss consumed me half the way this one did.

  Maybe it was because I’d waited so long to do it. Maybe it was because she was right in front of me for days and the temptation had been so great.

  Maybe it was because it was Halley.

  The one woman I’d always wanted with reckless abandon.

  I kissed her how I wanted her. Recklessly, without a second of thought for what would happen when we broke this moment. Carelessly, without giving a shit about what we’d say to each other when this was done.

  Without thinking about how much of a terrible idea this was.

  There was no coming back from this. There was no way I’d ever be able to look Halley Dawson in the eye after knowing what it felt like to have her lips on mine, her sighs dancing across my mouth, her fingers wound in my shirt.

  No. Fucking. Way. Back.

  Why had I kissed her? It was simple. The look in her eye when she realized I wasn’t actually going to kiss her was a killer. No matter how she tried to hide it, I saw the disappointment that flashed there.

  She’d wanted me to kiss her.

  I hadn’t. I’d played her at her own game and kissed her cheek.

  And for what? Where had it gotten me? Instead of pressing one little kiss to her plump red lips, she was now wrapped in my arms while we kissed and I nipped at her lower lips and teased her with my tongue.

  With my cock hardening against the zipper of my shorts.

  She could feel it. There was no way she couldn’t. Her hips were pressed against me. There wasn’t an inch of space between our bodies, and I knew I should let her go, but I couldn’t.

 

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