Operation Prom Date (Tactics in Flirting, #1)(4)



Her posture relaxed a fraction. “I’m listening…”

Was I really doing this? Hell, if anything, the girl was highly entertaining, and if it came down to me alone on the boat trying to keep track of everything while juggling the oars, or having Kate along to keep me on task and provide a more accurate picture of a two-person race, that seemed like the better option. Added bonus, it provided the time-commitment-to-someone excuse that would help keep Dad off my back. “Train with me, and I’ll train you on how to land Mick.”

She shushed me again. “Seriously, you always say it so loud. I don’t think you can be discreet, and if this got out…” She hugged her arms around her middle as if she needed to protect herself.

“It won’t. I’ll be more discreet. I’ll help you, and I guarantee that by the end of the month”—I lowered my voice—“Mick will be the one staring at you.”

She seemed to be mentally weighing her options. “How long do I have to train with you?”

“Until Jaden’s wrist heals. Probably three weeks, maybe four.” If it took a whole month, that’d only give Jaden and me one week of practice until the actual race, but at least I’d stay strong enough to make up for it.

“Three or four weeks? That’s intense.” She pressed her lips together, resolve settling into her features, and then her gaze lifted to mine. “I want him to do more than stare. I want him to go to prom with me.”

Prom? Shit, when this girl went for it, she really went for it. Most girls were obsessed with that one special night dancing among cheesy decorations, while most guys couldn’t care less, except that it meant their dates might be more adventurous.

Kate’s face dropped, and I got the feeling I’d accidentally insulted her by not responding with a resounding yes to being able to make it happen. “Easy peasy,” I said, then considered kicking my own ass.

“Easy peasy?” she asked with a giggle.

Great. The girl who liked to knit and solve equations was mocking me. Good thing I didn’t care what anyone at this school thought about me. “Just don’t tell me you’re planning on knitting your dress.”

She shoved me. “I’m already regretting admitting anything to you. But fine. Your deal is acceptable.” She held out her hand, apparently wanting to shake on it—I’d remark that it was the kind of gesture that gave off the serious vibe, but decided I better hold off until we’d sealed the deal.

I shook her hand. Her skin was crazy soft, her hand so small compared to mine, and I couldn’t help but notice the bright blue nails.

The zing that raced through my veins surprised me, but like I said, I did love a challenge. Not that I’d admit to how big of a one it was to her, but I had a feeling she’d have a lot of competition.

A smile curved her lips. “Operation Prom Date is go for launch.”

“You named it?”

“What? I’m supposed to wait for you to come up with a clever name? Likely story.”

I bit back a laugh—she was a little more bonkers than I realized. Yep, these next few weeks will definitely be amusing, if nothing else.

An older SUV pulled into the parking lot, and Kate released my hand and hiked her bag higher on her shoulder.

“Meet me tomorrow after school for training,” I said. “I’ll give you a ride home after, but fair warning, you’ll get back sort of late.”

“That’s okay. I usually do my homework in class anyway.”

As she walked away, I noticed the way her long ponytail swayed in time with her hips. So the girl might be on the serious side, but I could definitely work with that.





Chapter Three


Kate


What did one wear for her first day of being Play it Cool Kate, with a side of rowing training? After all, seduction and sports hardly went together.

Unless you happened to be Mick, then throwing a ball was alluring enough. Come to think of it, most any guy seemed sexier while playing sports, making me rethink my stance on seduction and sports.

It didn’t seem to work the same for women, though, which was totally unfair. Or maybe I just had no clue what guys found sexy. According to Cooper, it was mostly not being serious. If anyone had the not-serious market pegged, it was the guy who strolled through the halls of the school like he didn’t have a care in the world. I pulled my flamingo shirt out of my drawer. The words “majestically awkward” curved above the bird that had one leg up in the air and was about to fall. Mom and I saw it in a store and we’d both laughed at how accurately it described me.

“I highly doubt that’s the type of not-seriousness guys are looking for.” Which was why I mostly wore it during Netflix binges on the weekend.

Mom’s head popped through the open door. “What did you say, hon?”

“Nothing. Just talking to myself.” Like a normal person.

I glanced at the glass cage where Klaus, my bearded dragon, slept, thinking I should’ve at least claimed I was talking to him. He peeked an eye open as I patted his head and then settled back down for another long day of napping. Clearly he cared a lot about what I wore.

“Okay, well hurry up. We’ve got to be out the door in fifteen.” She rushed down the hall toward her bedroom.

I crossed to my shelves, where my jewelry box sat among my Funko Pop collection, and put on my three-tiered gold necklace. Naturally, I’d paired up the figurines in the couplings they should be in, whether or not the TV show or book series they belonged to was currently doing the right thing and allowing them to be together.

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