Sweet Cheeks(38)

“Principal Hellman walked up right before you.”

We both laugh at the memory. At how I scurried back to the table in the far, darkened corner of the club before leaving shortly thereafter.

“My God, I was so freaked out we were going to get detention or worse if Hell’s Bells saw us there.”

Our laughter fades. Somewhere in the moment we’ve stepped apart when the crowd has given us room to. “So what do you say, Ships?”

“To what?” I feign nonchalance but worry my bottom lip between my teeth.

“You never finished the dare.” He shrugs. Taunts me with a smile and a glance of his gaze to the stage and then back to me.

“Seriously?”

“You were never one to chicken out before.” Words to match his smile.

“We’re not teenagers anymore, Hayes,” I huff but know he’s starting to win me over. That sheepish grin and impish gleam in his eye reminding me of the fearless, carefree girl I used to be. The one who never backed down from one of his or Ryder’s dares.

He leans in, mouth to my ear. “I double-dog dare you, Saylor.”

My smile is instant. My reaction is half-hearted. “You know I can’t sing for shit,” I shout above the music that just started playing again. His hands are on my shoulders, directing me toward the stage, the melodic tone of his laugh in my ear.

“Perfect. There’s nothing better than an off-key karaoke singer to catch everyone’s attention.”

I want to strangle him, and yet I find myself laughing instead. I grab his hand, and his falter in motion tells me I’ve caught him off guard. “If I’m going to make an ass out of myself, you are too.”

I’m surprised when he stumbles along behind me. “Did you forget I like when everyone’s looking at me?”




“I don’t care. No one is going to convince me otherwise,” I say, in an attempt to sound serious despite the smile that hasn’t left my lips since we started our dominating karaoke run on the mic.

His laugh echoes off the concrete as we weave through the outdoor corridors of the hotel. “You need help.”

“Says the man who demanded he be called The Captain every time the announcer summoned us to the stage despite everyone knowing you were Hayes Whitley.” I giggle as he hangs an arm over my shoulders and pulls me against him for support. Or maybe it’s the other way around. I don’t know and I don’t care because I’m having more fun in what feels like forever and it’s all because of him.

“Says the woman who sang, ‘Might as well face it you’re a dick with a glove.’” His laugh rings out again.

“And what is wrong with that? Look it up. I bet you . . . I don’t know what I bet you.” I slur my words a little bit. “But I assure you those are the correct lyrics that Robert Palmer sings.”

“No. It’s addicted to love, Ships. Addicted to love,” he enunciates while fighting back the laugh. “Not a dick with a glove.”

“Hmpf.” I try to pout but it’s just no use. His words are sluggish too and his body so warm against mine. I feel lighthearted after so much weight lately that all I can do is smile and laugh and not want the sidewalk to end at our door where I can see it does a few yards ahead.

“Are you going to pout?”

“No.”

“Yes, you are, and I’ve got the perfect cure for that.” In a completely unexpected move, he takes my arm and twirls me out and then pulls me back in. Paradise spins around me. It keeps moving even when I land solidly against him.

Our laughter fades and our smiles slide into parted lips. His hand still holds mine against my lower back and his chest moves against mine. My face lifts up as his tilts down and our eyes fasten on each other’s. There’s an earnestness I haven’t seen in his before. There’s also amusement. Such an odd combination, almost as if he can see things I don’t want him to see just yet.

Kiss me.

Oh my God. What am I thinking? He can’t kiss me. It’s a horrible idea. Too many reasons to list why he shouldn’t.

And yet I want him to kiss me. Just once.

So we can get it out of our systems, put the past to rest, and move on. But then again, would I be able to move on?

Even at the age of seventeen, Hayes could kiss in a way that made me feel like I’d just laid every part of my soul on the line when his lips left mine. And I’m not sure I can handle feeling that right now. Every part of this situation already makes me feel so vulnerable and exposed as it is. Add in being confused over how the kiss would make me feel and that’s not something I need to add to the mix.

Yet as the silence stretches, neither of us move. And when his eyes flicker down to my lips and then back up to my eyes again, I don’t think I ever want to.

My desire wars against my better judgment.

His body is warm and firm against mine. A tangible temptation that’s hard to resist.

Just kiss me.

I wait for him to. I want him to.

And then I realize what an idiot I’m being. How he’s probably thinking how pathetic I look standing here waiting to be kissed in the moonlight like some pathetic sap. Embarrassed and flustered, I step back needing to create some distance from him.

“I’m sorry.” I turn and walk to the front door.