Page 41 of One More Kiss

JEN

My dad's pissed.He wasn't even waiting for me when I got home—which, in a way, was a relief. Tia, on the other hand, had so many questions, but I didn't answer them all. Some things are private.

I didn't throw up my candy, which made my day. I didn't realize I bought so much—lie. I know how much is in the bags. I ordered two pounds of each kind. I'm not even sorry about it. When Tia tried to take some, I slapped her hand. Mine.

"Go ahead. Eat yourself into a diabetic coma," she snarked as she walked off.

I meant it when I said I don’t share.

I order Chinese for us both and she forgives me.

“I’m going to warn you now, T, if you eat any of my candy, I’ll tell everyone you made out with Lance Morgan at the New Year's Eve party last year.”

She gasps and she really should. Lance is… unattractive in looks and personality. Super skinny. His hair's greasy, and he wears a pocket protector with his too-short khaki pants, white socks, and black gym shoes.

Needless to say, she won't be eating any of my stash.

I step out of the shower and moisturize before brushing my teeth. I'm freaking exhausted.

I plan to get a new phone as soon as possible. Definitely after I stop by my dad's. I need to get that out of the way so I can let Zane know everything Dad says.

I put on my sleep shorts and tank then climb into my bed.

When I used Tia's phone to call earlier, Mom told me dad was in the garage "working on stuff" which is code for pounding out his rage on inanimate objects. Mom's thrilled about me and Zane. She said she always knew we'd end up together.

I wish I'd memorized Zane's phone number so I could at least send him a text. Mom gave up trying to keep his number up to date. It gets leaked all-to-often and he has to get a new one. I wonder what he's thinking right now. If he regrets any of this. It was so rushed, I wouldn't blame him if he did, but it'd break my heart.

I grab my sleep mask and turn off my light. Zane. Zane. Zane. That's all I can think of. He's still on my mind when I drift off to sleep.

"What do you think, Jen?" Zane asks.

We made our way into a more private club where we continued with the kissing and touching along with drinking. I don't know how many I had but the rum tastes delicious. Not nearly as delicious as Zane, though.

"About what?" Sex? Yes, please. After those slow, drugging kisses, I need him to touch me all over.

"Let's get married."

"Are you insane?" I ask with a laugh. "We can't just go getting married, Zane."

He pouts. "Why not? Don't you wuv me?"

"Not the cute voice." I'm so weak against that.

He grins.

"Why not?" he asks.

"Zane." I stand with my hands on my hips.

"Jen."

"You don't want to marry me," I tell him, though the thought of marrying him gets my heart rate up, my hands sweating, and me wanting to say YES!

"I just asked you—"

"You didn't ask."

"Semantics," he retorts. "Marry me, Jen?"

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