Kiss Me

“All you have to do is look at yourself in the mirror to answer that question.”

“She hates the way I look?”

Aiden chuckles and pulls me onto the bed to sit with him. “I’m a guy. I’m not a threat to her. You’re pretty, Boots. Pretty, smart, and you have this, this, way about you. This casual friendliness that people are drawn to. And you seem to be very comfortable in the spotlight.”

“Are you comfortable in the spotlight?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, I’ve heard you are a really good soccer player. Usually really good athletes have to comfortable in the spotlight. It sort of comes with the job.”

“I’m not a cocky jerk on the field, but I am a good goalie.”

“From what I’ve heard, good is an understatement.”

He smiles. He has the prettiest smile I have ever seen. Even his teeth are perfect.

“I’d say I’m confident in my abilities.”

“Do you get nervous? Like, stage fright kind of thing? Ever choked in a big game?”

“Not since I was about ten. I played up an age group in the Fourteen and Under League. The guys were a lot bigger than me. I lost a game because I got distracted and missed the ball. I’ve never let it happen again.”

“You’ve never been scored on since?”

A smirk plays on his lips and his eyes twinkle.

I roll my eyes. “I don’t mean that kind of scoring. I already heard about your man whore ways last year. I’m still talking about soccer.”

“I have been scored on a total of eleven times since then.”

“Eleven times in seven years. Those are pretty good stats. I’m impressed.”

“Good to know there’s at least one way I can impress you.”

“You can impress me by getting on Social Committee. And we were talking about how you are popular without being popular. You have everyone in your room all the time. I don’t get it.”

He hangs his head down a little. “Maybe I like to party.”

“You don't seem like you do.”

“Fine. I got roped into it.”

“Wait. You’re doing something for them that you didn’t want to do. Why?”

“I do it for my sister. I'm trying to keep her out of trouble.”

I repeat the words he said to me in class one day. “And here I thought you were different.”

“Shut up,” he says, but he’s gri

I smile big and say in a singsong voice. “Aiden’s been drinking the Kool-Aid.”

He grabs my shoulders, which makes me feel like my body just turned to putty. “Fine. I'll get on the Social Committee.”

His hands are still touching me as he speaks. It’s hard for me to hear what he’s saying because he’s touching me.

I finally say, “We need to be a united front. I know if you’re there, your sister won’t pick on me.”

“My sister likes you. Why would she pick on you?”

“She’s nice to me at dance and at soccer, but when Whitney’s around she's not.”

Aiden shakes his head. “I don’t understand her sometimes.”

“I do, actually. I used to be her.”

“What?”

“Yep. At my old school. I don’t ever want to be popular again.”

“But you’re dating Dawson.”

“I’m hanging out with Dawson because he’s sweet. Not because he’s popular.”

Aiden leans back on his pillow and stares up at the twinkling lights. I lean back and look up at them too.

“So did you date the popular guy at your last school too?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“So your Keats guy. He was the most popular?”

I start laughing so hard I swallow my spit the wrong way and have a choking fit. Aiden hands me the Gatorade he’s been drinking. “No. He wasn’t socially acceptable, according to my friend, who I swear is a Whitney clone.” I stop and snap my fingers. “That’s it.”

“What’s it?”

“Whitney. What does she have on your sister?”

“What do you mean?”

“The reason I never crossed my Whitney is because she knew something embarrassing about me and threatened to tell everyone. And it sorta would have ruined my reputation.”

He rolls over on his side and gives me a crooked smile. “What’d she have on you?”

“I’m not telling you!”

“Why not?”

“Because, it’s embarrassing. Duh!”

“Come on. It can’t be that bad.” He flashes his dazzling smile at me and slowly blinks his eyes. I’m pretty sure that’s how he triggers his mind control powers because I can’t bring myself to lie to him.

“Fine. She knew I was a virgin.”

“So?”

“So I was the only one, and I had a reputation as a party girl. I dated my perfect boyfriend for over a year. Everyone thought we were doing it, but we weren’t. She threatened to tell everyone that our relationship was a sham.”

“So, the Keats guy was your first?”

I shake my head. “No. There was one other guy.”

“Tell me about the Keats guy. You still talk to him.”

“I crushed on him for a couple years. He was like a whole new world compared to the people I was friends with at school. He liked surfing, smoking, dive bars, indie rock. When we went places it was casual, never really pla

“You told me in French he was stupid, but that’s all you said.”

“No. One embarrassing story is enough for tonight.”

“Tell me. Then I’ll tell you one.”

“You have an embarrassing story?”

“Yep.”

“Fine. So I went to see him. He was with another girl while I was there.”

“So, he sort of cheated on you?”

“No. We weren’t going out. Wait. Whose side are you on?”

“Yours. Always yours,” he says. “I’m just asking. He sounds like a jerk.”

“He does.”

“So, back to your friends. He wasn’t acceptable. So you fought against them?”

“Yeah, I tried to. I loved him.”

Aiden touches my finger with his. “You should love me,” he says sweetly.

But I laugh. I can’t love Aiden. Aiden could destroy me, and I can’t take any more destruction in my life. Before I can reply, he grins at me and says, “Actually, don’t. I don’t want to be the rebound. Dawson is obviously a rebound.”

I shake my head and roll my eyes at him. “No, he isn’t.”

He gets up off his bed, presses play on his phone, and holds out his hand. “Come on. You still owe me those dances.”

I stand up and he pulls me into his arms.

I close my eyes and breathe in his godly scent—warm musk mixed with an intoxicating bit of clove and possibly some golden glitter and fairy dust.

I barely hear the songs play. All I can think about is how Aiden’s hands are touching my lower back. About how close his cheek is to mine. I lean a little closer.

As was the case before, dancing with Aiden is practically otherworldly. As hot as sex is with Dawson, I can’t help but wonder how it would feel with Aiden. It’s as if the dance is just a preview of how amazing it could be. And as we’re standing here together, swaying slowly, I swear my heart jumps out of my chest, mates with his, and comes back to me.

WTF!?

Did I seriously just think that? My heart mated with his? Oh, baby Jesus, it is time for me to get out of here.

Is he burning some kind of incense? Did he put some hallucinogenic mushrooms in the Gatorade he let me have a sip of? What the hell is wrong with me?

I pull back just a little and break the spell.

Well, I break the spell until he smiles at me. He has his eyes closed when he first looks toward me, then he slowly opens them, offering me just slivers of dazzling green. When he sees me looking at him, his mouth—that-gods-be-damned-for-creating-it mouth—curls into a sweet grin.

“I love dancing with you,” he says.

“It is nice,” I say, like an idiot. Of all the words I could use to describe the way I feel when I’m dancing with him and all I can come up with is the word most overused by fourth graders?

He’s still holding me in his arms. And I really don’t want him to let go.

“It’s almost curfew; you better go,” is what he says, but he tightens his hold on me.