Page 65 of Perfectly Grumpy

Bart huffs. “You’re no fun.”

I laugh, just loud enough for Bart to hear.

“What’s so funny?” he asks.

“Nothing,” I say, waving it off.

“No, seriously,” he says, frowning. “Whydid you laugh?”

“I was thinking about that intimacy problem you mentioned. I don’t have a problem getting close to people,” I say, my voice carrying across the lawn as Abby launches the balloon high into the air.

I wait until Bart’s eyes lock on the descending balloon, his hands outstretched. “I think the real problem was that I didn’t want to kiss you, Bart.”

He turns his head toward mine for a split second, just long enough for the balloon to slip between his fingers and explode against his chest with a satisfying splash. His smirk disappears.

Aunt Karen claps her hands together, not bothering to hide her delight. “Not good enough to take first place! That means you and Abby have tied with Tate and Lauren.”

Kaylie stands over the tub of remaining balloons. “Can we throw the rest of the water balloons now?”

Karen grins. “Go for it!”

The yard erupts into a madhouse as kids and adults alike dive for the remaining balloons. I’m about to join in when a water balloon splats against my back, sending a shock of cold water down my spine.

I whirl around. Tate is standing there, a mischievous gleam in his eyes.

My mouth falls open. “Did you just throw a water balloon at me?”

“Yes, just to prove I can befun.” Then he smirks, his dimples teasing me.

“Oh, I’ll show you fun.” I snatch several water balloons as the kids launch them at each other in a full-scale attack.

“You do realize this means I have full permission to get you back, right?”

“Too bad you don’t have any.”

Before I can finish, he glances behind a bush. “It’s my lucky day,” he says with a smirk. “Granny left a whole pile over here.”

Uh-oh.

I bolt across the yard, launching balloons over my shoulder.My aim is terrible, and I’m running in the wrong direction to get a good shot. Tate’s aim, unfortunately, is excellent. The first balloon smacks against my waist, soaking my T-shirt. The second is a direct hit to my back, a perfect bullseye in the middle.

The third splashes against my shorts, leaving a large wet spot that makes it look like I peed my pants.

“Tate!” I shriek, looking for an escape, but it’s too late. I’ve trapped myself against the perimeter fence. I spin around, out of breath, my hands in the air.

“Okay, I surrender!” I yell breathlessly. “You wouldn’t hit me now that I havenoballoons, right?”

Tate gives me a look like he cannot believe my question. “Of course I would.”

I take a cautious step back. “But you can’t.”

“Why not?” he asks, staring at me intently.

“Because I’m your partner. And you’re the one who follows the rules…at all times.”

Tate’s smirk deepens, his dimples making my heart skip a beat. “Ah, so this is about the rules, now, huh? And do the rules state I can’t have fun?”

“No.” I pause. “Well, maybe.”

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