Absolutely (Larson) Page 13

  Now that that's cleared up, I see what she’s saying. It is quite sexy. To be his. Not simply ‘go out’. I'm more than ok with it.

  “And,” I get on with Brisa’s personal debriefing, “when I go to dinner at his house? Kiel said to wear a dress…for him.”

  Brisa hits her forehead with the back of her hand, faking a faint onto my bed. I crash backward beside her. We lay there for a while, contemplative (or whatever Brisa was doing).

  “And, Kiel is picking me up in the morning,” I say very quietly. More for myself than for Bri. More to remind myself what there was to look forward to rather than dread.

  “Mmm,” Brisa hums, happy for me.

  ***

  Despite the fact that today is going to suck, I'm standing on my front porch ready and waiting. I decided on skin-tight Bermuda shorts and a navy baby doll top. It’s part of my attempt to appear composed in the face of today. Also in spite of the crapitude of today, the moment Kiel’s Jeep rolls into view, I'm running up to it all smiles. I see him chuckling at my eagerness, not for school, but at seeing him.

  He’s sitting there grinning until he realizes that he has to help me into the monster. His Wrangler may have me thinking about all sorts of fun redneck stuff, but my height and the skin tight shorts aren’t fans.

  “Morning,” Kiel greets me as his hands wrap around me to lift me up.

  “Morning,” I say back and get settled. I see a coffee mug in the console. “Rough night?”

  “Sadly, yes.”

  “Why ‘sadly’? Couldn’t sleep?”

  “Something like that,” he replies evasively.

  “Hmm. Couldn’t stop thinking about me, huh?” I tease. Watching his face, I see that my teasing wasn’t off base. I turn my whole body toward him to tiptoe my fingers up his bicep and say, “Me, too.”

  Luckily the Jeep isn’t out of park because Kiel twists fully in his own seat at lightning speed, managing to angle himself so close I can count his angel kisses.

  He takes my face in his hands and asks, “Really?” I can only nod in his palms. Then our lips are devouring each other. Our tongues meet, and I can taste the coffee. Black, no sugar. When he straightens up, letting me go, I'm dazed. Not too dazed, however, to notice the tiniest twinge of guilt from him. I blink, but it’s still there.

  “What? What’s wrong? Crap crap crap. Don’t tell me you have a girlfriend back in Dallas or some other crap like that. Not after yesterday. That…that…” I ramble. I'm not sure what I want to say. That would suck? No, that would totally devastate me. Ruin whatever wasn’t already the garbage of my senior year.

  Kiel starts the Jeep and pulls away from the curb before he answers. Smart man. He knows I'll bolt…

  “No, nothing like that.” But that seemed like all I was going to get out of him. We only had scant minutes, then we would be at school.

  “Then what?” I ask almost desperate. “I didn’t miss curfew. My parents weren’t mad about, you know, outside last night.”

  “It’s not that, honestly.”

  “Kiel,” I say, the warning very apparent. “I see guilt. What’s going on up there?” I reach over and tap his head, needing to know what has Kiel clamming up.

  ***

  Kiel

  I sigh deeply, upset at myself for having shown that emotion. I was up most of the night thinking about Ashlyn. Thinking about her more than I should. Worrying about what’s happening between us. I spent the latter portion of last night convincing myself we should slow down. I obviously can’t control it for both of us.

  “Ashlyn, I was up last night…wondering if we’re taking things too fast. I don’t know…I don’t think we should…” I can’t express my thoughts succinctly. I knew what I wanted to say to her after the restless night I had.

  Ashlyn watches me for a few seconds, the gears turning. The jaw is working, the hands fidgeting. Then she goes deathly silent in her seat and turns completely around.

  “Ash?” But she shakes her head emphatically with a sideways glare. What the hell? It’s a kiss-of-death ordeal, getting the silent treatment from her. She's like a Louisiana levy. Neither hold up well under pressure. And I can see the pressure building in the last few blocks of the drive.

  I keep glancing in her direction, but her death glares and loud music effectively shut me up. She swats my hand when I go to turn it down. Inside, I laugh, because she’s taken over my Jeep as well as my thoughts.

  Same as yesterday, I put it in park and she's jumping out unassisted. I know she’s not about the drama. However, she is oblivious to it until it’s slapping her in the face. I chase her down, almost running the rest of the way in.

  It’s only day two of this relationship and we misunderstand each other like an old married couple.

  At Ashlyn’s locker, people are walking by staring and laughing. When we get there, I can’t decide if they're laughing at the egregious spelling error or the subject matter itself. NARK is written in pink, vertically. Offset lettering, spirit-poster style. Idiots. I take out my phone and snap a picture before she opens it.

  Ashlyn sighs and digs for her textbooks.

  We haven't talked seating arrangements or lunch. Now that I'm getting the silent treatment, not thinking it’s the time to bring up the subject. It’s lame, I know, to be two days into a relationship and thinking about that sort of thing. But since we’re fighting like an old married couple, I’m going all out on the lame. And I'm taking her down with me.

  ***

  Following her to first period, I take the seat behind. All class long, I let my fingers do what they’ve been dying to, running them through her hair. She tosses it around to avoid me, pulls it over her shoulder, and in desperation, rolls it into a bun and jabs a pencil through it.

  I snag the pencil out, thwarting her plans to thwart me. The twist cascades down her back and I chuckle.

  Nothing short of being stabbed by her pencil is stopping me. At least her focus isn’t on the gossip and glares from the sheep around us. There are several kids that aren’t sheep, but they're waiting for the outcome.

  I worry about her during second period. She has Jenna. Probably getting an earful.

  Third period and she’s speaking worse than usual—that's not saying a whole lot. She tries, at least. I'm behind her again, thanks to D'Nae. This time, I run the end of my pen along the contours of her exposed shoulders.

  When Mrs. Green asks Ashlyn, conversationally, “What would you like to do on Friday night?” All she can come up with is, “Um.”

  Taking pity on her, I feed her an answer. Despite my perfect inflection, her response comes off sounding more like German. I'll have to suggest she try that language instead. I don’t even get a thank you from her.

  I sit with Tómas at lunch as if Ashlyn and I aren’t together. I can see her but can’t be near her. I explain our status to him unsure what to do. The gem of wisdom that comes from Tómas? “Chicks are loca. I bet she doesn’t even know why she’s mad.”

  As inexperienced as it sounds coming out of his mouth, he actually seems right. He may not have a girlfriend, but he has a point. Chicks are loca.

  ***

  I hit the showers fast after Athletics to make sure I'm first into sixth period Bio. Ashlyn tries to pick a seat away from me, but I’m persistent. Flopping down in front of her, I know we have three minutes to get this hashed out.

  “Ash,” I try to talk. I should’ve just gone right into it because she turns to Jenna to find out what she missed yesterday. Oh, hell no. “Jenna, do you mind giving those to her after class.”

  Jenna takes my hint with a huge wink and faces forward.

  “Now, Ash what the hell did I do? This is kind of ridiculous.” Her face goes red. Maybe that was the wrong thing to say.

  “Seriously, Kiel? After what you were about to say in the car this morning, you're going to talk to me about ridiculous?” she whispers through her teeth.

  “Do you know what I was going to say?” I demand quietly.

&nb
sp; “No, and I—” A substitute teacher starts taking roll at the front, interrupting her train of thought. Ashlyn tries again, “No, and I don’t want to know what comes after, ‘I don’t think we should—’”

  “I was only going to say—” Now, I'm interrupted by the sub’s voice.

  “Kyle Fuller…Kyle? Is Kyle here?”

  Frustrated, I yell, “It’s ‘keel!’” at the same time Ashlyn says loudly, “’Keel’ for heaven’s sake!”

  She throws her hands up, dramatically. I try to keep from cracking up, but my laughter bursts out at the same time she giggles behind me. Then our eyes meet, and I know what I was trying to tell her this morning was stupid and unnecessary.

  I need her to know that I want her that damn much. Every kiss, touch, and look we share isn’t too far or too soon. Now, in Biology, wouldn’t be appropriate. I would rather show her.

  The sub seems intent on keeping us quiet and on task with busy work. With all the other junk going on in school, I doubt it’s possible.

  Cell phones are out all over the classroom. I hear a phone start buzzing behind me with back-to-back messages. I turn to see Ashlyn’s face go from curious to furious. Her eyes start to water in anger. She turns off her phone and tries to stuff it into her purse that’s out on her desk.

  Judging by her expression, I'm sure the messages are further harassment. Without asking permission, I reach in her purse (uncharted territory) and take her phone.

  “What are you doing?” she hisses. She tries in vain to get it back. A guy can wish this could wind up like last night, with her in my lap. Instead, she jabs me in the arm with what I hope is her pen. I turn on the phone and see she has more new messages.

  Reading a few, they're mostly calling her names and cursing at her. Evidently, none of them were listening during any of the anti-bullying speeches and sensitivity trainings we’re given from Kindergarten on.

  A choice few are from Reyna and Jacob. Surprise, surprise. The messages are pretty lame. Calling her narc, ice cold bitch, and my favorite, the one where Reyna promises to acquaint Ashlyn with her fists.

  During my reading, Ashlyn’s been hissing my name while continuously jabbing me. It all stops and I feel a knuckle gently glide up the back of my neck. She runs her nails over the close-cropped hair on the back of my head. Every nerve lights up from the simple touch. My senses are reeling.

  The phone suddenly disappears from my hand, plucked away by a triumphant Ashlyn. She's still leaning over my shoulder. Girl fights dirty. I love it. I spin around to see her smirking. I wonder how many women know they have super powers over men? Because if they all had it figured out, we’d be doomed.

  She turns the phone back off and returns it to her purse. A note from Jenna lands on Ashlyn’s desk which she opens, makes a face at, replies to, and sends flying back to her.

  “Ash, don’t delete any of those,” I tell her.

  “Jenna’s notes?” she asks, purposely obtuse.

  “I'm serious, Ash,” I whisper. “I need you to keep those messages.”

  “Kyle, turn around,” I hear the sub say but don’t acknowledge. I haven't met a single Kyle around here.

  “Ok,” Ashlyn sighs. “I won’t.”

  “You might—”

  “Kyle, turn around and face the front!” the sub yells from the front. Who’s Kyle? Seriously, woman, I think.

  I address Ashlyn again, “You might need—”

  “Kyle Fuller!”

  On cue, Ashlyn and I both holler, “It’s ‘keel’!” The whole class turns to stare. Some are gaping, some like Jenna, are laughing.

  The sub is livid. “Mr. Fuller, turn around and work on your assignment,” she grits out. Hey, if she’d said my name right in the first place, we wouldn’t be at this impasse. For what it’s worth, I turn around and try to focus.

  ***

  Ashlyn

  If it weren’t so annoying, it’d be freaking comical that the substitute can’t pronounce Kiel’s name. Her Texas accent is to strong, that I doubt I’d be able to tell if she did say it right.

  I've managed to give Kiel the cold shoulder for most of the day. He has consistently fought back by warming up my shoulders…and other parts of my anatomy. Jenna and D'Nae are on his side, saying I'm overreacting. Though, I had argued, he's trying to shut me out again.

  The way he’s touching me in first and third tells a different story. UGH! I am so confused.

  When he steals my phone to check out all the horrendous texts I'm raking in, I fight to get the stupid thing back. Not that he hasn’t been there during most of the recent humiliations, but dang. Can’t I have this one to myself?

  When my juvenile attempts to retrieve my phone fail, I turn the tables on him. Beat him at his own game. I caress his neck, scrape my nails over his short hair.

  I have Kiel right where I want him, and I snag my phone back. I'm inordinately proud of myself. Not for using my female prowess. Gratified that I can affect him to the point of distraction.

  Jenna tosses me a note telling me to let Kiel off the hook because she can “cut the sexual tension with a knife.” I roll my eyes and stick out my tongue. But I write back: Yeah, yeah. Already on my to-do list.

  I toss it back, seeing that Kiel is watching me. While he’s trying to tell me to save the texts, the sub is trying her pathetic heart out to get his attention. We both holler at her the correct pronunciation. That incident sends the last bits of anger out the proverbial window. I'm incredibly, stupidly happy to do what I am about to do.

  I totally ignore the work in front of me to show the guy in front of me that he's forgiven. Or is it to let him know that I'm an overreacting lunatic? Who cares either way, right?

  I get busy grazing my nails over his hair and neck. I run my fingertips under the collar of his shirt. Over and over, I trace the same course. Gooseflesh rises on his arms. Delight and boldness are blossoming inside me.

  I know he can’t focus; his pen is pointed at the worksheet but the cap is on.

  I go for the part of him I've wanted to touch for quite some time; Kiel’s biceps are calling my name. Being short, I have to lean forward, pretend to be writing, and use the free hand to tease my fingers up under his sleeve.

  I giggle softly as he props his elbow back on my desk. For better access. I take full advantage, slipping my whole dang hand underneath to skim his shoulder. I rake my nails back down his upper arm.

  Another note from Jenna hits my desk. With my “writing” hand, I open it, not letting Kiel go.

  Woman! U r oozing, hormones right now. U need a cold shower?

  I have to hold the paper down with my chin to write back: Can u blame me??

  I resume my bicep exploration without further disturbances, following each and every groove. I return my hand to his neck later and find myself wanting to kiss him, just there at the dip in the nape of his neck. Did cold showers even work on girls?

  In the last minute of class I tap my pen nervously. That spot on his neck is tempting me. I have a plan. It’s one of those bad-good plans. I get all my stuff put away and prop up in my seat, so I'm inches from the spot. The bell rings and I press my open lips to his neck, exactly where I wanted them. I flick my tongue out.

  I get out of my seat to leave, but he's blocking my way. He’s looking at me with nothing but desire. He grabs my hand and pulls me to the door. We keep going past the lockers, past the classrooms, out the front doors. To his Jeep. I don’t bother trying to stop him, although I know we’ll both be late to practice.

  Chapter 13

  Kiel

  What Ashlyn did to me in Bio can’t be anywhere near as innocent as what I did to her in first and third. Damn. She wielded every weapon in her arsenal. The sensations aren’t fit for the school room. It’s the most amazing thing I've experienced and I am experienced.

  Maybe because it’s so natural, so right to have her touching me.

  Again, what I thought I’d decided last night and resolved to tell her this morning comes crashing
down on me. As fast as this relationship is developing, it would be unnatural to slow it down. It would hurt us both.

  Glad that's decided, I can only wait for the bell to ring so I can tell Ashlyn on the way to practice. But then. Then. While the bell is ringing overhead, Ashlyn’s warm lips are on the back of my neck and, I swear, the tip of her tongue flicks out. Shockwaves run up and down my spine—and lower. This wasn’t something I prepared for when I made my resolve to put the brakes on.

  Hell, I need to be alone with her, somewhere, somehow. Now.

  I grab her hand and all but carry her to my Jeep. Thankfully, the hardtop has tinted windows. Opening the door and lifting her up into the driver’s side, I can’t help but notice how tight her shorts are. Without being told, she heads to the backseat.

  Not a single word has passed between us until I finally speak. “Forget what I said this morning. Toss it out, OK?” We’re both breathing hard from rushing out here. She’s nodding and I'm reaching for her waist, tugging her up against me.

  Ashlyn does some maneuvering, getting up on her knees beside me. Her books and purse drop with a thunk to the floorboard. She throws her arms around my neck. Our lips meet in a crushing kiss. A few kisses in and she's sucking my bottom lip. I let my kisses trail down her neck.

  She's the responsible one, breaking the kiss, but her fingers continue their work on the sensitive hairs on my neck. I notice the rise and fall of her chest is much more pronounced with her heavy breathing.

  “Practice,” is all Ashlyn can get out. Isn’t that what we’re doing? I shake my head to clear it.

  “Yeah,” I reply equally breathless. I close my eyes (to block out her chest) and take deep calming breaths.

  “Ok,” I breathe out. “Ready?” She nods and we climb out. The hardtop may be tinted but us emerging from the Jeep? We’re not invisible. I look over at her, but she doesn’t seem to care. Her gaze is on me as she shrugs off the stares and whistles.

  ***

  For reasons I don’t understand, Ashlyn is being singled out as the narc. I am not suspected at all. It’s falling on her shoulders singly. Reyna is definitely the brains behind the operation. From what I could tell, Reyna has a thing for me which is hampered only by my thing for Ashlyn.