Bad Girl Reputation (Avalon Bay #2)(73)

Sure, it might be a little hairbrained, but I’m desperate here. One way or another, I need to get Gen on my side. The longer we stay trapped in relationship limbo, the more she gets used to the idea of us not being a couple. And the further away she slips.

“A test,” she echoes dubiously.

I nod. “The final exam to your journey of reform. Show yourself you can spend an evening with Trina and not burn anything down.”

Hesitation lingers on her gorgeous face, but at least she’s not shooting down the idea outright. “I’ll think on it,” she finally says. Then, to my chagrin, she heads out my bedroom door. “Talk to you later. Harrison’s waiting.”

Riley shows up around one o’clock with a rack of marinated ribs and another homemade pie courtesy of Aunt Liz. God bless that woman. I lead him out to the back deck, my mouth watering as I inhale the aroma of meat and pastry. My two favorite things.

“How’s your week been?” I ask him as we prep the barbecue.

He shrugs. “Meh.”

“You looking forward to school starting in a few weeks?”

“What do you think?”

I grin. “You’re right. Dumb question.” I always hated it too, watching with dread as the calendar neared closer and closer to September.

“But,” he says, brightening slightly, “Hailey’s family is coming back and they’ll be here till Labor Day.”

“Hailey … That’s the girl whose number you got at Big Molly’s, right?” Riley went out with her a few times over the summer, but every time I asked for details, he’d clammed up.

Today, he’s a bit more forthcoming. “Yeah. We’ve been texting since she went back home.” He shoves his hands in the pockets of his board shorts, then removes them and starts fidgeting with a pair of metal tongs.

“What’s going on? You’re acting all bouncy.”

“Bouncy?”

“Fidgety. Whatever. Are you nervous about seeing her, is that it?”

“Sorta?”

“But you guys have already gone out before,” I remind him. “What’s there to be nervous about?”

“We played mini golf and went to the movies a couple times. Oh, and ice cream on the boardwalk. So, like, four times. But we never—” He stops abruptly.

I narrow my eyes at him, but he avoids my gaze. He’s antsy again, now pretending to check the temperature on the barbecue like some grilling expert, when we both know he’s never grilled anything a day in his life.

“You never what?” Then it dawns on me. I stifle a curse. “Aw man, nope, don’t tell me. I don’t need to hear about how you’re planning on having sex. Your aunt would murder—”

“Jeez!” he yelps. “We’re not having sex, you idiot.”

I’m swamped with relief, although a tad intrigued by the genuine shock on his face, as if he can’t fathom the idea of sleeping with the chick. Riley’s fourteen, the age I lost my virginity, but I suppose not everyone is an early bloomer like I was.

“I just wanna kiss her,” he adds, the confession coming out as an embarrassed mumble.

“Oh. Oh. Okay.” Kissing? I can handle a chat about kissing. There’s no way Aunt Liz can be mad at me for that, right? “Well. Judging by your tomato face, I take it you’ve never done it before?”

He awkwardly jerks his head from side to side, a reluctant no.

“Dude, you don’t need to be embarrassed. Lots of guys your age haven’t kissed anyone.” I lean against the railing of the deck, slanting my head. “So what do you want to know? How much tongue is too much tongue? Whether to grab her boobs when you do it?”

He squawks out a laugh, but some of the blush has left his face. Relaxing, he wanders over to stand beside me. The mouth-watering smell of the ribs cooking on the grill floats toward us.

“I’m just, like, not sure how to go for it. Like, do I say something beforehand?” He rubs his forehead with the back of his hand. “What if I lean in and she’s not ready for it, and our heads smash together and I break her nose?”

I choke down a laugh, because I know he wouldn’t appreciate being laughed at during such a sensitive topic. “I’m almost certain that won’t happen. But yeah, you don’t want to just go for it while she’s mid-sentence or anything. There’s a thing called consent. So, read the moment, you know? Wait for a lull in the conversation, gauge her expression and look for the signals.”

“What signals?”

“Like, if she’s licking her lips, it usually means she’s thinking about kissing you. If she’s staring at your mouth, also a good sign. Actually, that’s the way in,” I tell him, pushing away from the railing and heading for the cooler near the door. “Alright, listen up. This is what you gotta do.”

He trails after me, accepting the soda I hand him. For myself I get a beer, twisting off the cap and tossing it in the plastic bucket on the deck. I return to the wooden railing and hop up to sit atop it.

“So at the end of the date,” I continue, “or in the middle, or whenever you gather up the courage to do it, this is what you do—you stare at her lips. For like five seconds.”

Riley sputters out a laugh. “That’s so creepy!”