by Sally Henson
His body shook with a chuckle, but he said nothing.
Madi, Roan, and I cleaned up the kitchen from dinner, and we said goodbye to Roan’s grandparents. They assured Roan they’d only be gone a few nights.
After they left, Roan carried Juju upstairs to my room so he could help me study for our last English test before final exams. That pug purred like a kitten when he held her against his chest. Traitor. She was supposed to bite his ankle, not cuddle with him.
I snatched my computer out of my bag, found a seat on the floor, and logged into our English study guide. “Are you going to help me, or what?”
“Yeah, hand me the laptop.” He slid down the wall to the floor next to me and sat Juju between us.
I groaned. “You know that’s not what I’m talking about.” He hadn’t mentioned a word about helping me find a kissing tutor since he said he’d think about it.
He shrugged, staring at me with his best innocent expression. “What are you talking about, then?”
It was obvious he didn’t think the idea was brilliant when I first brought it up. And if it got out that I needed someone to teach me how to kiss, leaving town to never return would be the only option. But this could absolutely work. My insides crawled with excitement over knowing how crucial the right tutor was to the success of finding my very own boyfriend. If I got a bad tutor…ugh. It could lead to failure and possibly another round of public humiliation.
I backhanded him in the gut. Ouch. I rubbed my hand. That was a bad idea. His stomach was like a rock. “Are you going to help me find a kissing tutor or not?”
His head thumped against the wall. “Toms,” he said in a groan.
“Roans,” I whined, mimicking him.
He shot me a sideways glare. That was a thing with him. He knew how to make others cower at his brooding appearance, but it didn’t work on me.
“Fine,” I sang. “Jerrick seemed like he might be interested in me at the game. If that doesn’t work out, I could stalk Olivia Matthews for a couple of days and do what she does.” Not that I knew if a guy was interested. That wasn’t a natural ability for me, unlike Cayla, Madi, Summer, and at least three-fourths of the softball team.
He folded his arms tight against his chest. His dark hair fell along his eyebrow. The tips had lightened from the sun. How such dark hair could get sun streaks the color of his eyes eluded me, but it happened every year.
He tried to change the direction of our conversation. “Since you’re babysitting me while my grandparents are gone, I expect to be entertained.”
“Don’t I always entertain you?”
I handed the computer over, stood, and crossed the room to my bed. Between all the pillows and my plush headboard, it was the most comfortable spot in my room. I snatched up a pillow to hug and plopped down, scooting against the headboard.
He wore a smirk on his face while he situated the laptop on his legs. When he looked up at me, his amber eyes were dancing. “Sometimes you just annoy me.”
He was irresistible when his playful side came out. It felt like flirting, but what did I know about that? A bubble grew in my chest. The kind that was full of fun and laughter and something confusing… butterflies. I did my best to ignore it and shot him a smirk. “The feeling’s mutual. Like now.” I threw one of the small pillows at him. “Are you going to help me find a tutor or not?”
Juju lifted her head from her curled-up position beside him and barked in agreement.
Roan broke eye contact with me, propped the pillow behind him, and looked down at the screen. His voice softened. “Let’s study. I promise we’ll talk about it tomorrow.”
8
The aroma of melted cheese, cooked eggs, and tomatoes filled my nostrils as Roan slid the omelet in front of me. “Mmm, this smells amazing.”
The corners of his mouth pulled up. “Protein-powered breakfast is the best.” He turned back to the stove and readied the skillet for his egg mixture. Roan didn’t need help taking care of himself like his grandpa teased. For an eighteen-year-old-boy, he was a good cook. He even knew how to do laundry.
Roan sent me a message after he left last night to come over for breakfast before he drove me to school. We used to do this before our games last year, but it was the first time this season. Hopefully, he was ready to commit to finding me a kissing tutor, or Cayla and I would have to take things into our own hands.
I had even considered getting James alone and asking him for some private lessons. Public scenes didn’t work out for us, but maybe a few private kissing sessions would do the trick and he would want me to be his girlfriend. Who was I kidding? I couldn’t even face the guy to apologize for the whole thing, for leaving him in the middle of the dance floor.
I cut into the omelet and pulled a forkful up to my lips. My mouth was already watering. I shoved a bite in my mouth. “Mmm,” I moaned, letting my lids slide shut as I chewed. “Perfection.”
When I came back to the moment, Roan had plated his omelet and stared at me. The playful grin and dancing eyes from last night were back. Just when I thought he would shoot me a smart-aleck comment, he said, “I know someone who would be a good tutor for you.” He rounded the island and sat beside on the bar stool next to mine.
It took me a second to process. I blinked my eyes, not sure I heard him correctly. “You do?”
He nodded, cutting his food into bite-sized pieces. “But you agree that whatever I say goes.” He glanced at me before taking a bite.
I took a drink of my milk. Roan liked being in control. It was fun to disrupt his bossy pants. It had become my mission to throw him off his throne. This was him snipping my chances of doing exactly that.
My insides tightened. Did I really want to agree to him bossing me around with no pushback? “Why?”
“It’s all about trust.” He put his fork down and focused on me, asking, “Do you trust me?”
I knew exactly what he was doing. He pulled this trick with his pitchers. It was how he got them settled down and back in their pitching groove.
“Look, you know guys. And you have a way of getting your way. Which is why I asked for your help in the first place. But I’m not one of your pitchers you can control.” Allowing someone else to have total control picking out the lips I’d have close personal contact with didn’t seem like a good plan. Even if it was a friend as good as Roan.
“All you have to do is say yes, and you can start today,” he said with an unaffected tone.
Did he talk to some guys last night after he left my house? I cleared my throat. “Who?”
“You don’t need to worry about that.”
I swiveled on the barstool to face him. “Uh, yeah, I do. They can’t have a girlfriend,” I pointed out, hoping he’d drop a name or a hint of who it was.
“That’s a given. Don’t worry. I’ve heard first-hand that girls find him attractive. I have everything covered. If you agree, you’re in. No turning back.”
I narrowed my eyes. In one night, he had all the bases covered? He had to have either planned this for longer than one day or thought about it all night long. Which I highly doubted since he appeared to be well rested and very well put together this morning.
He went back to eating and so did I. After I finished, I took my plate to the sink, rinsed it off, and placed it in the dishwasher. Though my mind buzzed with the faces of guys Roan might have lined up, my sister’s comments about my clothes had me wondering if it would even work. “Madi told me I needed to change my wardrobe. She said I need to dress more ‘feminine.’” I stood before him, watching his eyes scrutinize me. “Is she right?”
He shrugged. “It wouldn’t hurt. Maybe switch up the athletic gear some.”
I pursed my lips and groaned. Sometimes he was too honest. “I was afraid of that.” My throat tightened. I knew guys didn’t see me as a girl or think I was pretty because they never asked me out.
I had to talk Roan into helping me find a prom date, for Pete’s sake. I slumped over on the countertop and sai
d, “We’re going shopping after the game tonight. I hate shopping. Clothes never fit right.” Maybe it would be worth it. I straightened and asked again, “Who is it? Have you already talked to them?”
He kept his grin and raised an eyebrow. “You haven’t agreed yet.”
Roan wouldn’t stick me with a jerk. I tossed my hands up. “Fine. Agree. Whatever. Let’s get the tutor scheduled.”
“Okay.” He stood, pulled a paper and pen out of his back pocket, unfolded the paper, and placed them on the countertop in front of me. “Sign on the dotted line.”
I scoffed. “What’s this?” I scanned the paper. A contract?
“No backing out,” he said. “If I agree to help with this, you have to do what I say. And you know I wouldn’t do something mean.”
I rolled my eyes. “I never knew you wanted to be a lawyer like Gramps.”
He pointed to the paper.
I let out a growl, but I knew I had to do it. I snatched the pen and scribbled my signature on the paper. He’d already signed by his name. “There. Done. Who’s my tutor?”
He stepped closer, looking into my eyes with the same expression he had when he’d said he found someone. “Me.”
I laughed out loud. He had to be joking. But when he didn’t join with me, I choked on my laughter. “What?” My face pinched, but my belly went on a rollercoaster ride.
“I’m more than capable of teaching a girl how to kiss.”
I backed away, but he followed me until I bumped into the cabinets. I stuttered, “You can’t. We can’t.”
“Why not?” he asked. His eyes bore into me. He had looked at me like that before, and it made my belly quiver like it was doing at that very moment.
“Because we’ve been best friends since we were ten, that’s why.” I gripped the edge of the counter and pressed my back against it.
“Eight,” he said softly, brushing his fingers on my cheek as he tucked a piece of my hair behind my ear. When I came over that morning, I was in a rush and hadn’t put it in a ponytail yet. “Best friends are more comfortable with each other.” His voice was tender and smooth and, combined with his touch, it made my stomach dip again.
“It’s embarrassing,” I said in a weak, unsure voice.
“You agreed. Even signed a legally binding document.” He leaned his head down. “We should get started on our first lesson.”
A huge lump stuck in my throat, causing my mouth to go dry. I didn’t even think my lungs were working. Tommie, you can’t kiss your best friend. I frantically shook my head.
He chuckled, leaning even closer. “You want to learn to be a good kisser, right?”
I pressed my palms against his chest. “Yeah, but I…I want to do it with someone that…likes me.”
“I like you just fine.” He lingered for a moment before he straightened and stepped away. Roan lifted his backpack from the chair across the room and said, “We should get to school.”
There was no way Roan could be my kissing tutor. He just said I didn’t dress like a girl, and even though it might be true, it hurt. This was a joke to him. Pressure pushed in on my chest. It was like I was reliving the day after prom and everyone was still laughing at me.
Didn’t he get it? Finding someone to boost my reputation in the love department wasn’t a joke.
“You coming?” he asked, heading for the door as if he didn’t just stomp on my hopes of fixing my reputation and changing how guys looked at me.
I lifted my chin, strode to the door, and picked up my pack where I’d dropped it when I first arrived. If it wasn’t getting so late, I’d message Cayla to have her pick me up.
I climbed in Roan’s truck and put on my seatbelt.
Two seconds later, he slid in and started the engine, backed out of the driveway, and headed to school. Halfway there, he asked, “You okay?”
“You being my tutor is not going to work.” Even if Roan had turned on the hot factor, along with a dozen other guys this year, I was his buddy. Tommie, the tomboy. The girl who taught him how to play baseball. No guy found that attractive. Especially one who’d been friends with me for so long. Knowing he would be grossed out while he was trying to teach me was one more humiliation I didn’t want to go through.
“It’s too late to back out. What I say goes, remember?”
Cayla was not going to believe this, and I wasn’t sure I would tell her.
9
Throughout school, I pretended everything was fine. Roan always knew how to put his issues aside and focus on the task at hand. If he could do it, so could I. With a test to study for and an essay due, I needed to forget the morning conversation with Roan ever happened. Thinking about his stupid contract would land me an F.
“Tommie, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so focused,” Madi said, hanging another shirt over the dressing room door. “It was like the crowd didn’t even exist.”
I’d had a smile on my face since the game ended, but Madi’s compliment was like the chocolate frosting on top. She didn’t give them to me often.
Since I proved my pitching was back on track yesterday, Coach started me in the game. It went better than expected. “Yeah, it was almost mechanical. I just served it where it needed to go.”
“See, you are a beast. When are you going to listen to me?” Cayla added. “Maybe we should have gone to the guys' game after ours.”
I hadn’t said a word to Cayla about Roan’s little stunt this morning. Truthfully, I wasn’t sure it hadn’t been a bad dream. I slipped a flirty pink top over my head and looked in the mirror. The high from winning the game plummeted. I mumbled, “Too bad I look like a beast too.” Why did they use florescent lights in tiny dressing rooms?
“Let us see,” Madi called.
I turned the handle as she pulled the door open.
Judging by their faces, I wasn’t the only one with that assessment.
I lifted my arms out to the sides. “See why I hate shopping? At least my athletic shorts and T-shirts fit.”
Madi planted her hands on her waist, pushing her hip out, and cocked her head to the side. “They don’t fit. They hang on you like a garbage bag.” She pointed to the third outfit I tried on. “This isn’t the right style for you. This is exactly why you should try on clothes.”
I rolled my eyes and went back in the dressing room to strip. “The next thing I put on better work or I’m done.”
“We’ll find what works for you,” Madi tried to soothe me. “I have an idea. Give me a minute.”
“Why am I even doing this?” Tears stung my eyes as I shoved the skirt to the floor and stared at myself again. I turned away, sniffing back the emotion, and wrapped my arms around my middle. Any space this tiny box had seemed to close in on me.
“Hey, Tommie?” Cayla asked softly.
I was grouchy—I knew that. It was just…ugh, trying on clothes always put me in a bad mood. And I could no longer keep this morning’s events out of my mind. Stacking those two things on top of each other made me want to curl up on my bed with Juju and binge-watch movies on my phone for the rest of the night. “Yeah?”
“Let’s just forget about Roan,” she said. “If he doesn’t want to help, we can do this ourselves.”
A couple of drops of salty liquid slid down my cheek. I should tell her. I needed someone to commiserate with. I wiped the wetness from my face and cleared my throat. “This morning, Roan said he’d help me.”
“What? Why didn’t you say anything?” she asked.
Maybe I hoped it would just go away. I shrugged. I didn’t know why because she couldn’t see me through the door. “I don’t think I want to do this anymore. There’s only, what? A month left of school?”
I saw her sneakers under the door turn to face my direction. “That’s silly. If Roan will help, it’ll make this go quicker.”
“Cayla, he said if I agreed, I had to do it his way.”
“So? I might think he’s an intimidating jerk sometimes, but he’s not to you. And he wouldn’t recrui
t someone who would treat you bad or he didn’t trust.”
I pushed out a frustrated breath. “He said he would be my tutor.” I stared down at my bare feet. Chipped polish and nails. They were a mess, just like me.
My words hung in the air. If it weren’t for seeing her aqua-colored Chuck Taylors under the dressing room door, I would’ve thought she left.
“Okay, I found some things I think you’ll like.” Madi laid them over the top of the door. “Try on the dress first. I know you don’t like dresses, but this will be so comfortable. Promise.” She switched gears, asking Cayla, “What’s going on?”
“I’m not sure,” Cayla said. “If I heard your sister correctly, she found herself a hot kissing tutor, but now she wants to back out of it.”
“What? When? Who is it?” Madi asked in rapid fire. “Why do you want to back out?”
I gripped the hook of the hangers for the clothes that draped over the door and hung them on the peg mounted on the wall. I mumbled an answer. “Because it’s not going to work.” I untangled the cotton dress and slipped it over my head.
Cayla told her, “Roan said he’d do it.”
Madi’s sandals clapped against the floor as she jumped up and down. She squealed and said, “Oh, my gosh! Tommie! This is fantastic!”
“I know, right?” Cayla cheered with Madi.
“He’s one of my best friends. How am I supposed to kiss him?” I looked in the mirror and tried to wrap a piece of fabric from the dress, but it didn’t look right. “How does this thing work?” I opened the door.
Cayla’s eyes widened, followed by her mouth dropping open. “That looks perfect.”
“You take this strap.” Madi looped it behind me. “See? It wraps around and then you tie it on the side.” She took a step back, wearing a toothy smile. “Your boobs look bigger.”
“Ooh,,it’s the pin stripes,” Cayla said. “They curve in all the right places. It makes your hips look curvy too.” Her eyes were as big as softballs. “And your eyes… the green is breathtaking.”