Taste (Cloverleigh Farms, #7)(30)

“I’m not,” I said, laughing. “That’s what actually happened.”

“I refuse to believe it. You’re just messing with my head. Like you always do.”

I shrugged. “Maybe this will just be another one of those things we remember differently.”

She lifted her chin. “Maybe so.”

The silence between us was thicker than the snow drift outside the windows.

“Are we ever going to talk about it?” I asked.

“About what?”

“You know what. Those seven minutes.”

“I don’t see what there is to talk about. Nothing happened.”

“Ellie, come on. It’s time to admit it—something happened.”

“Fine. What happened was you tricked me.”

“What?” I gaped at her. “I didn’t trick you!”

“Yes, you did!” Her eyes lit up with fury. “I said I wouldn’t kiss you, and you bet me you could change my mind in seven minutes.”

“And I did.” I was annoyed at the accusation that I’d done something shady, but I couldn’t help smiling. “I did change your mind in seven minutes, and I didn’t even break a single one of your rules.” I ticked them off on one hand. “I didn’t force you, I didn’t touch any private parts—I didn’t even talk. And before that timer went off, you begged me to kiss you.”

Seething, she drew herself up like the Queen of England. “I. Did not. Beg.”

I laughed. “Sorry. You told me to kiss you. Twice, in fact.”

“And you didn’t.”

“The seven minutes were up,” I said with a shrug, although that wasn’t exactly true.

She pointed a finger at me. “You had time to kiss me, and you know it. You just wanted to humiliate me. That’s all you ever want to do—tonight included!” She grabbed her bag off the floor and stomped off toward the bathroom in a huff. Before she got there, she whirled around once more. “And I didn’t beg!”

The bathroom door slammed shut.

Exhaling, I let my head fall back against the headboard and rubbed my face with both hands. I hadn’t meant to provoke her, but somehow that was exactly what I’d done. Now instead of tipsy, mellow Ellie to share a bed with, I had angry, resentful Ellie. I probably owed her an apology, especially after the shitty night she’d just had, but I’d give her a minute or so to cool down.

With my eyes closed and my head a little woozy from the wine, I let my mind wander back to that night six years ago in Tanner Ford’s basement. I didn’t have much talent when it came to memorizing shit for school, but I remembered everything about that night.

Ellie had cleaned up after the dunk tank incident, and she’d been wearing a super short skirt, which was rare for her—maybe she’d even borrowed it from someone. She sat over on one side of the room with a bunch of girls, while I played air hockey with my friends, stealing looks at her legs from the corner of my eye. As always, she refused to even glance in my direction. She was like the one girl at school who wouldn’t give me the time of day, and it drove me crazy because she’d grown up to be fucking gorgeous.

I probably shouldn’t have dunked her fifty times, but the opportunity had been too tempting to resist. And she’d gotten me back with all those pies in the face! We were even.

But it felt like something was unfinished between us. Some tension lingered. Or maybe I was just curious.

So later, when we were playing Seven Minutes in Heaven, I pretended to pull her name from the hat. When she heard me say her name, her eyes met mine, a little defiantly—for a moment, I thought she might refuse.

But she stood up, tugged her skirt down a little, and walked into the large cedar closet without a word. As everyone clapped and made obscene noises around me, I followed her in. Right before the door closed behind us, I heard someone say, “I’ll set the timer!”

The door slammed, and we were alone in the dark.

“I don’t want you to kiss me,” she announced imperiously.

“Why not?”

“I just don’t.”

“Can I try to change your mind?”

She laughed. “Sure.”

“You think I won’t be able to?” My eyes were adjusting to the dark, and I took a step closer to her.

“No, but . . . go ahead and try. Just respect my rules.”

My heart hammered wildly with the challenge. “What are your rules?”

“Don’t touch any private parts, not even over my clothes. Stop if I say no. And don’t talk.”

“Why can’t I talk?”

She folded her arms over her chest. “Because it will all be lies, and I’m not interested, Gianni.”

“Okay.” I moved closer to her, so close my chest bumped her forearms, and my lips brushed her forehead. “But is it okay to touch your, um, public parts?”

“I—I guess.”

I took her by the wrists and put her arms down by her sides, then dropped to my knees in front of her.

She sucked in her breath, and I grinned.





EIGHT





ELLIE





Inside the bathroom, I scrubbed my teeth with enough force to wear off the enamel and stared at my face in the mirror—flushed cheeks, bright eyes, lips stained a little from the wine. My chest rose and fell with quick, heavy breaths.