The Way to Game the Walk of Shame(78)

“So you want to start over?”

“Yep.”

“Seems like a waste, though.” I leaned in until my lips were right by her ear again. “I’ve been starting to get more of my memories from that night, and believe me, there are just some things I’d rather not forget.”

Her blush spread straight to her roots. “Wouldn’t you rather make new memories instead? I guarantee that you’ll never forget these, even if you tried.”

“Oh really?” My eyebrow rose with interest. “Are you having dirty thoughts again?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sounds tempting. I think I’ll have to take you up on that challenge.” I dipped my head down until our lips were barely touching. “Let’s get started, shall we?”

Just as we were about to kiss, bubbles suddenly surrounded us. Hundreds of them floated down to us, swirling in the wind to create a fairy-tale atmosphere. Or at least what Carly thought was one. Distracted, Taylor pulled away. Her eyes were round and amazed as she stared around us. “What’s going on?”

Guess they hadn’t gotten my hint. I closed my eyes and let out a defeated sigh. “Look up.”

She did and suddenly burst out with laughter. Aaron and Carly were hovering out of the auditorium windows above us, armed with a bubble gun in each hand as they fired all the bubbles in our direction. They must have been hanging out on the balcony this whole time.

Carly stopped and blew on the top of one of her guns like it was smoking.

“Don’t mind us. Just keep kissing!” Aaron yelled down at us.

Clenching her stomach from laughing so hard, Taylor peered up at me. Her eyes were shining again. “I thought you weren’t a cheesy guy?”

Pulling out the coin necklace from my pocket, I slipped it around her neck. When it was secure in its rightful place, I looped an arm around her waist. “I wasn’t until you made me one. I used to be cool. And now I’m just a moping idiot without you. And since you effectively ruined my reputation, I think you have to make it up to me. Starting now.” I held out my hand for her, wiggling my fingers. “Deal?”

Her hand wrapped around mine, and she held on tight. “Deal.”





BEFORE

-Evan-

Taylor caught my attention as soon as I spotted her at the party. She drifted through the crowd with a drink in her hand. Her other hand swept her dark hair out of her eyes as she bobbed her head to the loud music.

I don’t really know why I noticed her in the first place. She was a little more dressed up than usual, but there were a lot of other pretty girls wearing tighter, more revealing clothes. Especially the one on my lap. I think her name was Abby? Annie?

My fingers traced along Abby/Annie’s collarbone and shoulders. “So, are you having fun?”

She smirked and leaned in closer to nuzzle against my neck. “Especially now that you’re here.”

“Back at you.” I tried to concentrate, but my eyes kept flickering back to Taylor. This time she was swaying to herself by the fireplace. Her hand was braced against the brick mantel. There were a couple of guys looking at her, but no one came close. Probably because they didn’t want to get rejected by the Ice Queen, as everyone called her.

Giving up, I finally gave Abby/Annie a kiss on the cheek and stood up. She slid off my lap with a squeak. “I’ll be back later.” I turned away from her outraged face and slipped through the crowd to get to Taylor. She didn’t notice me. Not even when I was standing directly behind her. “Hey.”

She spun around and peered at me. “Oh, it’s you.”

Well, that was a pretty cool greeting. I was beginning to understand why everyone called her the Ice Queen. I leaned against the fireplace to face her, study her. “Uh, yeah. Are you okay? You don’t look so great.”

“I’m fine. Terrific. Stupendous.” Taylor suddenly let out a small burp and covered her mouth. “And a little flatulent.”

Snorting with laughter, I shook my head, too surprised by what was happening to know what to say. “Maybe you shouldn’t be drinking so much if you’re such a lightweight.”

“What’s a lightweight?”

“Someone who can’t handle her drink.” Like you, I added silently.

Her face beamed, and she leaned in toward me, patting my arm. “Then that’s not me. I had two! And I’m perfectly fine.”

“Oh yeah?” I held up three fingers. “How many is this?”

She rolled her eyes. “Three. If you want to see if I’m drunk, you’ve got to use a better method than that. I’ve been counting since I was fourteen months old.” She fumbled in her pocket and pulled out a pen. Flicking off the top of the pen, she started writing on her own arm. “Look, I can still write perfectly. Drunk people can’t write, can they?”

I took her arm and examined it. She did write her name really neat. With lots of swirls. Taylor Simmons. Since her handwriting was so perfect, it almost looked like a tattoo. I unconsciously caressed my thumb along the inside of her wrist. It was soft and warm. “Anybody can write their own name.”

“Fine, then I’ll write yours.”

“Don’t you need to know my name first?”

She grabbed my arm and rubbed her palm against the surface of my skin. Liking the way she was touching me, I took another step toward her. “Oh, everyone knows who you are, Evan.”