by Sally Henson
11
Roan dried the table and rounded the island where I started the dishwasher. He tossed the towel by the sink and said, “Let’s go get some gelato. You look too nice to hang out in the backyard.”
My eyebrows might have shot clear off my forehead. Did I hear him right? When we got back from the beach, I just slipped an apron over my head to protect my clothes and got busy cooking. I glanced past Roan to my sister who was stepping out of the laundry room.
Her mouth dropped open before she covered it with her hand. And her eyes were as big as softballs. She lowered her hand and mouthed the words, “Say yes.”
“Sure. Okay,” I said.
He extended his arm, allowing me to walk out of the kitchen in front of him.
It wasn’t until we stepped into Luigi’s that the shock wore off and I remembered I don’t do public anymore. I paused at the door.
Roan’s hand pressed against my back. “No one’s here,” he said, nudging me inside and toward the glass case with all the flavors.
It was dusk outside but was as bright as the noonday sun in the place. I could hear Tasha Martell’s big bad wolf voice in my head. “The better to scrutinize you, my dear.”
“What can I get you?” the older lady asked from behind the case.
“I’ll have two scoops of chocolate suiza.”
“You always get that,” I teased, scanning the different flavors.
“That’s because it’s always good,” he said. I could hear the smile in his voice. “I bet you’re getting strawberry.”
I shook my head and settled on one I hadn’t had in a while. “Nope.”
The gray-haired lady handed Roan his cup and asked, “What can I get you, sweetie?”
“A scoop of chocolate mousse, please,” I said.
“Oh, that’s a good one. I might have to steal a bite.” He snagged a napkin and a spoon off the counter and dug into his gelato.
I watched him take a bite. A moan hummed out of him.
It caused a giggle to bubble out of me.
“Here you go, dear,” the lady said.
I turned back to the counter and took the cup, giving her a smile, thanking her.
“I’ll pay and we can sit outside and eat,” he said, reaching for his wallet.
“Okay” I said, lifting a spoon from the tray, and headed toward the door.
I focused on scooping a spoonful of goodness when I bumped into a hard body and dropped my gelato on the floor. “Oh, I’m sorry,” I apologized, kneeling down to scoop the blob back into the cup. That’s when I saw chocolate streaks on my new white pants. Great.
“Tommie?” James Lowe’s voice boomed down at me.
I glanced up at him. My eyes widened as he towered over me like a giant. I wanted to crawl across the black-and white -checkered floor and hide under a table.
“I haven’t seen much of you since you left me standing in the middle of the dance floor at prom,” James said. I couldn’t tell if he was being mean or just speaking the truth. I avoided him at all costs at school. Which was also why I didn’t go to Roan’s games.
“That’s enough, Lowe,” Roan called, stepping next to me. He squatted down and handed me a few napkins, asking under his breath, “You okay?”
I nodded, took the napkins, and cleaned up the mess.
James’ feet shuffled. “Hey, I just wanted to talk to her.”
Roan stood, inching closer to James until they were toe to toe.
I stood and carried the mess to the trash can. My hands were sticky and I wanted to wash up in the bathroom, but the need to get out of there was stronger.
I pushed on the door and heard James call, “See you around.”
I’m a big girl. Tall. Strong. But when it came to facing James Lowe, I shrunk to the size of a mouse.
I made it to the truck and waited for Roan to come out. The sun was about to disappear when we got here. Now it was dark enough for the streetlights to shine down. Darkness could hide the wet streaks streaming down my cheeks.
The door unlocked before I saw my friend. It took him longer than I thought it should, but I didn’t say a word. The only thing I wanted to do was leave.
“Here.” He held out a cup of chocolate mousse gelato. “I got you another one.”
“Thanks. But you didn’t have to.” The truth was, I didn’t have an appetite anymore.
He opened the door for me. “I know.”
I climbed in and he shut the door behind me before rounding the truck to the driver’s side.
Roan handed me his gelato and started the truck. “Mind holding on to that until we get home?”
“Sure,” I mumbled.
Roan took off through town. I stared out the passenger window, thinking about my encounter. As small as I felt, it wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. He didn’t laugh or make fishy lips or kissing noises. But that didn’t mean I wanted to go through it again.
Before long, Roan pulled alongside my curb and parked. We stepped out of the cab, meeting in front of the truck. “I’m sorry about your new clothes,” he said.
We moved side by side toward the house. “Hopefully Mom knows how to get the chocolate out.”
Roan stopped me halfway to the front door. “Tommie Sue, you look real pretty tonight. Lowe made sure I knew he thought so too after you went outside.”
“I don’t look like a boy?” It was my first thought. My second stayed on my tongue…James told Roan I looked pretty.
“No, you don’t. You never look like a boy, okay? And for future reference, instead of saying something like that, you should take the compliment. Say, ‘Thank you.’ and lean in for a kiss.”
“Oh,” I said, pushing the thoughts of James and literally running into him minutes ago to the back burner. Maybe planting a kiss on Roan would make the ache in my heart go away. “Thank you, Roan.” I focused on the boy in front of me, grasping his arm with my free hand as I took a step closer. “You’re very sweet.” I pushed up on my toes and pressed my lips to his.
Was that the right move? The right words?
His hand slid around my waist and pulled me closer.
I’d say that was my answer. Butterflies flitted around in my stomach, and I loved every second of it. Between our lips meeting and the closeness of our bodies, I found it hard to breathe. He really was sweet. I meant that. And I hoped the connection that was developing between us was real. Not the platonic tutor-student relationship.
12
Moisture clung to my skin from the combination of a hard practice and North Carolina humidity in May. Cayla and I had paired up as the team ran the perimeter of the softball field. We rounded the corner of the outfield on our second lap behind Addison and Summer, heading back toward home plate when Cayla breathed, “Guess who’s in the stands?”
My eyes strained to see who it was. Dark hair and a baseball cap could be any number of guys. It was his wide shoulders and chest that made Roan stand out from the others.
“He said he’d give me a ride home after practice.” I glanced behind us. Becky and Jaryn were too far behind to hear our conversation. “So what did you think today? Does he like me more than friends? You know I always read guys wrong.”
“He was different at lunch,” she said. “He met you at your locker, right?”
I nodded.
“I saw him massaging your shoulders while you were in line.” She gave me a wink.
I let my mind go back to that moment. His touch felt different from when he checked out my shoulder last week. Shivers trailed down my spine in a good way, like they were doing it now just thinking about it. When he let go and grabbed his food, I wanted to give the lunch lady a dirty look for giving his hands something else to do.
“Yeah, that was different. He’s done it before, but not like that—in the middle of a crowded cafeteria.” If I had the guts, I’d ask him if this was real, but I didn’t want him to stop being my tutor.
She bumped me with her elbow and panted, “He was flirting with you
during supper last night.”
“How do you know that? You weren’t even there.”
“Madi texted with me the entire time he was there. For a freshman, she knows how to read a situation. Better than you. No offense.”
One more thing Madi was better at than me. “Why do you think she’s been…into this? She hasn’t made one snide remark about me getting a clue. It’s like suddenly she wants us to be buddies, and I’m not sure about it. I mean, she’s my sister, and I love her, but…” Madison had always competed against me for everything. I didn’t know why, because she didn’t even have to try hard to get what she wanted.
Cayla shrugged. “Prom. And maybe she realizes her big sister is graduating soon.”
“Great, my little sister feels sorry for me.” I hadn’t thought about the misery of prom as much the last couple of days. Except when I spilled chocolate gelato down my pantleg after bumping into James. One positive change from prom was that I was looking forward to the end of my high school career. Not knowing what I would do with my life hasn’t changed, though.
I sucked in a couple of breaths. “Guess it’s better to be friends than enemies.”
Cayla’s breathing was getting heavy too. “I like her. She’s funny. Like you.”
I snickered at the thought of my sister being like me. She was more like the best of me and Brendon put together.
“I’m glad you didn’t have to deal with James today,” she said.
“He was so nice at the dance…until he grabbed my butt when he kissed me. I liked him,” I panted. Talking and running two laps after a hard practice may not go together.
“I thought you liked Roan?”
I glanced behind us to make sure no one was near us before I answered, “I do. I like a lot of guys. They just don’t like me.”
“That’s,” Cayla puffed, “not true.”
It was true. Which was why I needed a kissing tutor and a boyfriend to prove I wasn’t so bad. Would Roan pretend to be my boyfriend?
We pushed through the last stretch and sprinted from third base to home plate. On our walk-out to first, I glanced up at Roan perched on the top of the home stands. A smile stretched across my lips despite trying to catch my breath. His hair curled around the edge of his cap. Even though his eyes were sigh-worthy, he looked good enough to be on the cover of Elite Athlete magazine in his sunglasses.
He nodded, lifting one corner of his mouth into a grin.
Giggles from a couple of girls snapped me out of my over-appreciation of my tutor’s features. I joined Cayla, Summer, and Addison in the outfield to wait for the rest of the girls so we could do our cooldown.
After we stretched, the team made way for the dugout to get our stuff. I heard Jaryn ask, “What’s Roan Martin doing here?”
Becky whispered loud enough I could hear. “He’s friends with Tommie.”
Jaryn sighed. “He is so hot. I love the tall, dark, and mysterious type.”
I lifted my bag on my shoulder and strutted toward Roan, feeling like Wonder Woman. Those cute little underclassmen could drool all they wanted. Roan Martin would be kissing me tonight. I hoped. Even if it was for educational purposes.
13
“It’s so hot tonight,” I said. “It feels like the middle of July.” We crossed the road from visiting Cayla at Masterson’s Sporting Goods to Roan’s truck. The shower after practice was about to wear off already.
We both slid into his leather seats. At least the tinted windows prevented them from scorching my legs. He started the engine and eased into traffic.
“I heard Charlotte Robinson say something about pier jumping tonight. We could pick Cayla up from work and go,” I said. He had been a little on the quiet side tonight. Although, I might have been a tad hypersensitive because I didn’t know what the deal was between us. “They’ll probably have a fire afterward.”
Wait…What was I thinking? My muscles tensed. I didn’t do crowds anymore. James and our videoed kiss was the reason I avoided classmates and public locations. But Roan’s tutoring lessons made me forget about all that.
We had a game-free weekend. All we needed to concern ourselves with was fulfilling the contract. It was the only thing I could think about.
His Oakley baseball sunglass lenses were super dark, preventing me from seeing his warm caramel eyes. I couldn’t tell what he was thinking.
I cut in before he could agree. “I changed my mind.”
“Good. I don’t feel like going to the pier,” he said as he turned into our subdivision.
Whew. My shoulders fell back in place. “What do you feel like? No parties though,” I teased, trying to be as normal as possible. “I’m in charge of you while your grandparents are gone. Remember?”
He flashed me a grin, reached for a pack of mints in his cup holder, and popped a handful in his mouth. “I could kick your butt in Soldier One.”
I scoffed. My competitiveness rose up. No matter what, I couldn’t let him beat me in my favorite video game. I scoffed and said, “You wish.”
He chuckled as we pulled into his garage and parked. He turned the engine off. He said with a chuckle, “I let you win.”
“Whatever,” I mumbled, stepping out. I shut the door and met him at the entrance of his house.
The garage door powered down as he punched in the code to unlock the house door. Roan’s house was fancier than mine. Mom was always doing some “home improvement” project that lasted for months. I had to admit it was nice when she finished, but Roan’s place was always clean and sparkly with fancy furnishings and granite countertops.
He stepped inside and I followed, closing the door behind me.
Roan tossed his keys on the countertop and handed me the roll of mints he brought from the truck. “Want some?” he asked.
Was that a hint a lesson would be in my near future? “Sure.” I slipped them from his fingers and crossed the room to the patio door. Looking out over his pool, I popped several mints into my mouth. Why did I order onion rings with my burger earlier? I hoped these things worked. Maybe I should go brush my teeth instead.
I swished the hot cinnamon around my tongue. The more they melted, the spicier they were. I coughed a few times. Just when I thought I had it handled, I coughed more.
“Water,” I squeaked, making a dash for the upper cabinet by the sink for a glass. I filled it with tap water and downed half of it.
“You okay?” he asked with laughter from behind me.
In between pants from my tongue being on fire, I nodded and said, “I’m good.”
He chuckled. “I should have warned you they were strong.” He laced his fingers through mine and tugged me toward the living room. “Come on.”
I was glad for the distraction of the firecracker breath mints. They were like an atomic bomb in my mouth. Any trace of onion rings had to be gone after that. We reached the sofa, and he motioned for me to take a seat. We didn’t usually sit in this room, especially when his grandparents were gone. My chest tightened as I dropped down in the corner.
Roan sat next to me. Like, really close.
I swallowed and waited for him to say something. It had to be lesson time, right? Not knowing exactly what was going on was torture. My heart rate went from sixty-eight to one-hundred-twenty in 5.0 seconds.
His arm stretched out along the back of the sofa, grazing my shoulders in the process. “Ready for another lesson?”
I nodded, and my throat tightened the same time my belly took a ride. How could I be scared and excited at the same time? It was like bungee jumping off a bridge. The first step would take all the courage I had, but the rush would be worth it.
“I know I said kissing should be spontaneous, but sometimes you know it will happen. You’ve been worrying too much about what other people think of you.” He angled his body closer to mine. “You can’t think about other people when you’re kissing. It makes it weird.” His fingertips stroked down my arm and back up as he taught, leaving a wake of goose bumps. “You just need to
be in the moment. It’s like when you’re pitching, and you’re in the zone. All you’re focused on is you and the catcher.”
“Pitch and catch,” I repeated, swallowing my nerves, already focused on his lips. They looked soft. The way they moved when he talked was like an invitation to see if they tasted the same as the cinnamon mints. My hand moved up his arm to the back of his neck.
His breath brushed my lips as he whispered, “Let everything and everyone else fade away, but the sensation.”
Our lips met.
I breathed in his sweet and musky amber scent and melted into the heat. My insides wavered between chocolate fondue and over-carbonated soda. Our mouths moved together as if we had done this a thousand times.
If I would have gotten a kissing tutor three years ago, high school could have been a lot more fun. My other hand slid up his chest and wound around his shoulders. The ridge of his muscles under my fingers triggered more fizzy bubbles. Was it normal to want more?
Roan’s arms brought me closer, but not for long. He ended our kiss, pressing his forehead to mine. “Whoa,” he uttered with his eyes still closed.
“Was that good?” I asked, breathing as if I’d taken a lap around the field.
A huge grin spread across his face when he chuckled. His eyelids slid closed. “That was good,” he said with a raspy voice.
He was right. Letting everything else fade away was amazing—addictive. I was floating, and buzzing, and a few giggles bounced around my ribcage. I wanted more. “Maybe we should practice. Work on the next lesson.” I didn’t want to stop kissing. Like, ever.
His eyes popped open, and he put some space between us. “Maybe we should take a break.”
I asked, “Practice makes perfect, doesn’t it?” I gave him my best flirty smile. Which was probably ridiculous, since it had never, in my entire life, worked on any of the guys I had used it on.