by Sally Henson
The Kissing Tutor
Sally Henson
Copyright © 2019 by Sally Henson
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
For permission requests, contact the author and publisher at https://sallyhensonwriter.com/contact-me/
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes.
Cover design by Victorine Leiske
Content editing by Cara Seger
Editing by Walk the Line Editing & Proofreading
Interior formatting by Sally at Dirt Road Press
Contents
Welcome to Sweet Water
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Epilogue
Leave A Review
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Also by Sally Henson
The Talk
Welcome to the town of Sweet Water, North Carolina!
1 Town. 1 School. 11 Sweet Romances
Misunderstanding the Billionaire's Heir - Anne-Marie Meyer
Crushing on My Brother's Best Friend - Julia Keanini
Kissing the Boy Next Door - Judy Corry
Flirting with the Bad Boy - Michelle Pennington
Chemistry of a Kiss - Kimberly Krey
Falling for My Nemisis - Tia Souders
Falling for My Best Friend - Victorine Leiske
It’s s Prank - Lucy McConnell
Much Ado About a Boy - Jannette Lewis
Road Trip with the Enemy - Kelsie Stelting
The Kissing Tutor - Sally Henson
Each book is a stand-alone but follows the entire school year chronologically.
1
I jogged across the field to the dugout. Tears brimmed, but I refused to let them fall. Not here. Not in front of Coach or my teammates.
Sweat dripped down my forehead. I swiped it with the back of my wrist, smearing the dust that had settled on my body from the extra planks, sit-ups, and sprints I had to do in the dirt. A dull ache had begun to settle in my shoulder. It was going to be another ice-and heat-night when I got home.
Would I ever have a humiliation-free day in my life again?
Our catcher, Summer, cinched her equipment bag as I passed behind her. I could feel her eyes on me as I threw my glove into my own bag and slid in my bat. My body was already heated from practice, but my cheeks were on fire, knowing Summer heard Coach chew my butt. Again.
Summer’s cleats clacked against the concrete as she stepped toward me and said in a low voice, “You’re a great pitcher, Tommie. You’ve got this.”
I glanced at her T-shirt and nodded. She was wrong. If I had it together, I wouldn’t have just spent the last quarter of practice in purgatory. Playoffs were around the corner. I tried to focus, get my pitches under control, be consistent, but I failed. It had been tough since prom. And some of these girls wouldn’t let me live that night down.
After she left the dugout, I slipped the strap of my bag over my non-pitching shoulder and trekked through the thick air. Did everyone hear Coach yelling at me? At least I didn’t cry.
I spotted Cayla, my best friend, kicked back against the spare tire of her Jeep, waiting for me. She stared down at her phone while her thumbs flew over the screen, typing. The gravel of the parking lot crunched under my shoes. She glanced up and let out a yawn.
“Up too late last night?” I asked as I approached.
Cayla gave me a look. “You know I’m not a morning person.”
Most of the team hated morning practice. They were not as alert, which meant the trash talk about my prom incident was less likely to be brought up. That’s why it had become my favorite time to practice.
I tried to smile, but I couldn’t make it happen.
“So Coach tore you a new one?” she asked.
I reached down to untie my cleats, slipped them off, and shoved them in my bag before tossing it in the back of the vehicle. “Yeah. Did you hear?”
She shook her head. “Only the beginning.” We traveled to opposite sides, climbing in. She turned the key and eased us forward through the lot. Besides the coaches, we were the last ones to leave.
“Anyone else hear?” I draped my arm along the edge of the open window. The breeze blowing in cooled my cheeks.
She shook her head and said, “I think everyone was ready to get out of here before they got called out. It was a rough practice for everyone.”
I sank into my seat and closed my eyes for a minute. “Not exactly what I hoped senior year would be like.” One day I would get past all the drama. I hoped it would be sooner rather than later.
“I think you pitched the best you have since… you know.” She gave me a long look before turning out of the lot.
“Since prom. You can say it.” On the other hand, maybe I should reconsider living at home and going to community college. If I go to a bigger school, no one will even know who I am. No one would remember my compromised lips plastered on the big screen.
“You said it. Does that mean you’re ready to move past it?” she asked.
“Exactly.” I let my head fall back against the headrest. “I’ve wanted to move past it since it happened. But the video keeps showing up and the team won’t let me forget.”
“It’s not ‘the team.’ Only a few. I haven’t given you a hard time. Neither has Jenna nor Summer.”
Strands of Cayla’s russet brown hair whipped around her face from her ponytail. I reached over and nudged her shoulder, giving her a grateful smile. “I know.” I was thankful for their friendship.
She grinned and turned onto my street. “I have a great idea. Let’s drive over to Roan’s tournament today.”
I tilted my head and stared at her. Roan and I had been best buddies since he moved in the big house on the cul-de-sac of my street ten years ago. He knew everything about me, including why I hadn’t been to his games lately.
She glanced over and asked, “What? You haven’t watched him play in two weeks. Who will tell him what he’s doing wrong if you’re not there?”
“Don’t you have to work for your dad?” I asked.
She shook her head. “Not if I go to the game. Please.”
“First of all,” I said. “I can barely face people at school, let alone James and the rest of the baseball team. Second of all, Roan has two coaches who are more than capable of telling him what he’s doing wrong.”
She snickered. “Yeah, but you do it so well. And he asked if you were coming today.”
“He totally understands why I’m not coming,” I sai
d. Even if he told me I was being a baby, and I needed to quit hiding.
“Come on. Face your fears.” Cayla slowed, turning into my driveway to park. “I don’t like going without you.”
I took in a deep breath and blew it out through my teeth in a whoosh. “I know, I know. Maybe next week, okay?”
“Promise?” she asked and gripped the steering wheel as she waited for my answer.
I held back a sigh. If I promised, it would just be a lie. I opened the door. A hint of gardenias hung in the air. I breathed them in and gave her the answer she didn’t want to hear. “I’ll try.” My feet hit the concrete and heat soaked through my socks. I caught her giant eye roll when I shut the door.
Cayla may have been shy, but she didn’t have a problem with guys wanting to be more than a friend. I circled around the back. Prom ruined any chance of a boy ever asking me out. I reached in for my bag and lugged it over the edge. My shoulder was getting stiff. “What time do you have to be at the store?” I asked, stopping at the driver’s door. “I’ll come see you.”
She held her hands up and said, “There’s no way I’m going to work if I can keep from it. Dad’s been in a bad mood this week. I might check with Summer or some of the other girls and see if they want to go.”
I didn’t blame her for wanting to go with someone else. Pre-prom, it would have been the two of us taking a road trip to the tournament. “You could hang out here. Sneak into Roan’s pool with me.”
“Dad would find out. He knows everyone.” She rolled her eyes. “So what’s for supper tonight?” she asked.
My sister and I took turns making supper. Sometimes my brother helped out. Mom usually cooked on Wednesdays. With her ever-changing schedule at the hospital, we did what we had to do. Dad’s career in the Marines kept him away from his family most of the time. So he wasn’t much help around the house.
I grinned and teased, “We’re having protein, baby.”
Cayla’s dad fixed a lot of pasta. He liked meat but wasn’t a good cook. “If I can’t find anyone to go with, I might come over.” She backed onto the street.
When I raised my arm to wave, a tinge of pain spidered through my shoulder. Ugh. I lumbered toward the house. Ice for fifteen and then a hot shower and ice again. That was the plan.
As soon as I walked inside the house, the smell of bacon enveloped me. I headed straight to the kitchen, on the verge of drooling like my little black Pug, Juju, when I spotted my sister through the wall of two-by-fours stripped of its plywood. She moved crispy bacon from the baking sheet to a plate covered with paper towels.
My stomach rumbled. “That smells amazing.” I walked into the room and reached for a few pieces, but she smacked my hand. “Hey!”
Madi slid the plate out of my reach.
Poor Juju lay at Madi’s feet, waiting, begging for a piece of bacon too. I leaned down and scratched behind her ear. “Juju, Sissy won’t let you have any either?”
“Take me to the baseball game today and you can have some,” Madi said.
I let out a growl. She should know better than to mess with me when I was hungry. “I’m not going. Give me some bacon.”
“Ugh,” she groaned. Her eyebrows pulled together. “Are you serious? Because of prom?”
I opened the garage door and hung my bag up. “Duh.” I closed the door and washed my hands before getting the ice pack out of the freezer.
“You’re being ridiculous. Nobody even talks about it anymore.” The skillet sizzled after Madi cracked two eggs and dropped them in.
I nestled the ice on my shoulder. “Will you make me scrambled eggs? Please?”
She sighed but cracked two eggs in a bowl and mixed them with a fork.
I took a seat on the bar stool. “Why do you want to go to the game? You don’t even like baseball.”
She shuffled to the bar, biting her lip. Our lips might be about the only thing that was the same on us. I had limp, dirty blonde hair. She has thick, beautiful golden hair. She was only a freshman and already started varsity volleyball. I started varsity softball my sophomore year. She made straight A’s, and I was lucky to have B average. She had bigger boobs than me and a curvier body. I was strong, lean, but straight. Except my thighs, because I did a lot of squats for power in my pitch delivery. How many girls loved having big thighs?
I’d say I was probably a three-and-a-half on a ten-point scale. She was a nine. Only because I didn’t believe perfect exists.
It might be possible I harbored a tiny bit of jealousy of my sister. She had gone through two boyfriends already. I hadn’t even had one and it was my senior year.
“There might be someone on the team that asked me to come to the game.”
My mind raced through the team to think who it might be. “It’s not James, is it?” Please say no. My stomach clenched, waiting for her to answer.
She stepped back to the stove. “Heck no. He may be bona fide hot, but after what happened with you?” She glanced over her shoulder at me. “Give me some credit. Geesh.”
I let out my breath. Thank God. James and I had one night of history. One I wished I could forget. “Who?”
“It’s…no, I don’t want to jinx it,” she rushed out. “Get some plates.”
I stepped to the cabinet, pulled two paper plates out, and slid them across the counter to her. If she wanted to keep it a secret, fine. For the time being anyway. I fished out two forks from the silverware drawer, glasses from the cabinet to fill with milk, and sat down.
Madi plated our food and sat beside me. “What about Roan? You know he wants you to be there.”
Guilt from telling my two best friends no grew heavy on my chest. I knew Roan liked me to be at his games, but he also knew why I couldn’t. “Cayla was looking for someone to go with her,” I said and took a big drink.
Madi tucked a piece of her nearly perfect bed-head hair behind her ear and asked, “Do you think she’d mind me going with her?”
I shook my head, pulling my phone out of my pocket to send Cayla a message.
Tommie: You still looking for someone to go to the games?
Cayla: You’re going???? Say yes!
Tommie: Madi wants to go.
Cayla: How about you?
Tommie: Nope. Just Madi.
Cayla: Tell her I’ll pick her up in 45 minutes.
I showed Madi the message.
“Crap. Guess I better eat fast. I still need to take a shower.” Madi took a bite of her eggs. “Come with us.”
Juju put her paws on my feet and whined. I snickered and slipped her a piece of my bacon. “If everyone will be at the game, maybe I could get some beach time in.”
“You can’t stay home for the rest of your life. You’re already going stir-crazy.” She downed her drink and shoveled the last bit of food from her plate into her mouth. “I cooked. You clean.” She smirked and ran out of the kitchen.
I turned my lamp off and hunkered underneath my blankets. Madi and Cayla hadn’t made it back from their road trip to the baseball tournament. That meant I didn’t have to fix supper tonight since Brendan said he was going out. That happened often since he graduated last year.
Mom came home a half-hour ago and went straight to her bedroom. Everyone was busy.
I stroked Juju’s coat. “It’s just me and you against the world, girl.” A heaviness pushed down on my chest, so I rolled to my side. It showed up a lot since prom. It usually only appeared when I was alone now.
I scrolled through social media for any new comments about my transformation into a guppy or kissing James or any of the myriad of hurtful headlines people came up with. Nothing new. That I saw anyway.
When I looked up James, the stupid video was at the top of his list. Still.
Every time I saw it on a post, I relived the moment. Not that I wanted to.
James led me through the crowd to the middle of the dance floor, surrounded by couples. Halfway through the song, he found the edge of the ribbons that crisscrossed along my exposed spine. His f
ingers danced on my bare back, and he asked me to skip post prom and go to the beach. I was so excited to be at prom with him, I would have gone anywhere he wanted. Especially since he was so dreamy all night. He was more of a jock than me. And good-looking. And did I mention dreamy?
The thought of leaving made me nervous though, because he had a tiny reputation for kissing a lot of girls. But that’s what I wanted, right? Someone who knew what they were doing. The song was ending, and the DJ said something about memories.
Camera flashes popped around us, but James kept his eyes and hands on me.
I knew if I left and Mom found out, I would be so grounded. But James Lowe asked, and the way he looked at me…
It took like two seconds for me to say yes. James pulled me against his body. I knew, at that moment, he was going to kiss me. My first kiss. I watched him close his eyes and lean his mouth toward mine. I didn’t want to miss a single millisecond of what was happening. My heart slammed against my rib cage I was so nervous and excited.
His hands made a wrong turn, slid down to my backside, and he squeezed his hands full of my tush! I gasped. My mouth popped open in surprise just as our lips should have touched.
I FISH-LIPPED HIM!
We jerked apart. The look of disgust on his face was a line drive to the gut. Laughter erupted from all around us as people pointed toward the DJ.
I looked in that direction. The camera person making “memories” caught my first kiss debacle on live video. My humiliation played on a fast loop. I was mortified.