Page 21 of Tutoring the Bad Boy
He takes a step toward me, and I’m lost in his essence. He’s kind of shaking his head as he chuckles. Like he’s not used to hearing compliments. Part of me hopes its the person speaking it rather than the praise itself.
“I said thank you, right?” Another step closer.
His warm spearmint breath is hitting my lips, and like an arrow is pointing to them, my gaze dips to his mouth. Nodding, I mumble a breathy, “Uh-huh.” It’s the best I’ve got since I’m not sure I have enough air in my lungs to speak louder—or the brain power to come up with something wittier.
The smile on his lips fades, and our gazes lock. I don’t know if it’s the anticipation or the actual kiss that will be better. It’s building up in my mind and heart like a rollercoaster hitting the very top before flying down. There’s a chance it’ll be an incredible experience or a horrible letdown. Though, with the way my skin’s tingling, I’m expecting amazing.
Suddenly, it occurs to me that I’ve never kissed anyone before. What if I’m bad at it? I know Kaleb won’t be. I’m positive he’s kissed other girls because I saw him.
Both of those thoughts have me frozen as he bends ever closer. The one and only boy I’ve ever wanted to kiss me is bending closer, and there’s a chance I’m going to wreck the entire experience. And an even better chance that he’ll have a frame of reference with which to judge my kissing ability.
The anticipation and fear last just long enough for his lips to touch mine. In that moment, I’m stunned by the softness of his lips and the gentle way he’s kissed me.
He pulls back, and again, our gazes lock. The way he’s staring at me makes me wonder what he could be thinking.
His hands glide up my arms, stopping at my shoulders to rest just a moment before he takes my face in his hands. My heart is hammering in my chest so hard that I wonder if I’ll need to wrap my ribs to ease the beating they’re taking.
The moment his lips caress mine again, I’m lost in the fantasy that’s just become a reality. Butterflies settle in my stomach, and if there was ever a rightness in my life, this would be it. I’m standing in the spot I was meant to be, kissing the lips that feel as though they’re made for mine and hoping with all the hope I have that it’ll never stop.
Unfortunately, as quickly as the kiss begins, it ends as a door slams in the hallway somewhere. We jump apart, and I feel dizzy. It’s then that I realize we must have kissed longer than I thought, because I’m desperate for air.
“Uh,” Kaleb says and scratches the back of his neck. “I thought it’d be a good idea to kiss just in case we need to back up our claims of dating.”
And just like that, my utopian kiss is dashed. For a brief moment, I’m crushed, and then I realize he’s right. This is all for show. I’m not looking to date anyone, and the only reason we’re doing this is to get him into a good school.
I nod. “Exactly. At least this way it’s done, and if it happens again, we’ll be ready for it.” The words are slipping from my lips like they’re greased, and yet they taste as bitter as the crab apples that grow on the tree in my backyard.
His hand drops to his side, and he peeks around the edge of the corner. “I guess we should get to class. I’ll text you later, okay?”
Quickly, I throw an acknowledgment and scurry away. The last thing I want is to let him see the dejection I feel at the moment. A feeling that’s utterly stupid since I’ve known all along that it’s a game.
Right then and there, I make a vow with myself that the next time we meet, I’ll have my head and my emotions straightened out. But even as I think it, I wonder how I’ll keep my heart wrapped up as neatly as I need.
As I reach my class, I lock the thoughts away. I’ll deal with it when the time comes. For now, I’m locking up whatever budding feeling I’m having. Snipping them at the roots and envisioning them doused with weed killer. I just have to make sure my heart is on the same page the next time I see him.
Chapter Twelve
Kaleb
“How many timesare you going to check your phone, man?” Chris asks me Saturday afternoon. “Are you expecting a call or something?”
Or something. It’s been two days since I texted Ginny about my homework, and the curt reply has been playing in my head the entire time. Which should not surprise me since I’m an idiot for telling her I kissed her to help the believability of our relationship. Which is so far from the truth that I’m almost tempted to check the length of my nose. I didn’t justwantto kiss her. I had to. Her lips were begging for it.Mylips were begging for it.
After the radio silence, I’ve typed out a million texts to her, and I’ve chickened out each time I went to hit send. I hurt her. I saw it in her eyes, but there’s no taking it back. The last thing I need to do is fall for my fake girlfriend.
“Just waiting to hear from my dad.”
Chris laughs to himself. “Yeah right, dude.”
Chris can see right through me. He knows I’m thinking about Ginny. But how am I supposed to tell him how confused I am? The kiss was amazing. The way Ginny smelled, the soft moan that came from her lips, feeling the small of her back with my hand. My skin warms just thinking about it. Yep, I’m losing my mind.
“You coming with me to Dixie’s?” I ask Chris.
He tosses the basketball to the hoop in my room, and it goes in clean. At least someone in this house can concentrate. Turning to me, he smiles and shrugs. “Sure. I mean, Dixie’s pretty hot.”
“She’s not so bad.” Honestly, not my type at all. Unfortunately for my sanity, Ginnyismy type.
“Are you blind? With those dark eyes, pouty lips, and the tiny cheerleader shirt…” Chris lets out a long whistle. “The girl is on fire. But I’m wasting my time telling you this.” He retrieves the basketball and throws it to the hoop again, sending it in. “All you can think about is Ginny Gray.”
