Kissing Lessons Page 9

  He’d spent the night with her. Here. On her crappy couch. Nolan Martin had spent the night with her.

  She didn’t spend the night with guys. Not at her house. Not at theirs. Never.

  This was not a scenario she could have ever imagined. Not with him. Not with anyone. She wasn’t one of those girls who envisioned meeting her prince someday. She didn’t see a future with anyone. Her dream was for a place of her own. Independence. Money in her bank account. Not a person.

  She shook him. “Nolan.”

  He jerked, startled awake, and she felt a flash of guilt over her less-than-gentle handling.

  He blinked several times, his eyes focusing on her. “Hayden?”

  “Yep. Me.” She waved a hand around her. “What? You didn’t feel like going home last night?”

  He looked a little shocked as he glanced around. “Um . . . wow. I’m sorry.” He sat up and dragged both hands through his hair, sending the dark locks flying in every direction.

  He looked good. He’d spent the night crammed bedside her on her creaky old couch and he looked good. It was vastly unfair.

  She knew what she looked like in the mornings—probably this morning—and she wouldn’t call it anything close to good. Why should he get to close his eyes, sleep, and wake up looking cover-shoot ready?

  “I can’t believe . . .” His voice faded away as he lifted his head and met her gaze directly. “Did your mom come home?”

  He glanced around as though he might spot her, an angry parent he would have to justify his presence to, lurking somewhere in the room. That image of her mom was ridiculous.

  Nolan rubbed his palms over his thighs as though the prospect of coming face to face with her mother made him nervous.

  And it should.

  But not for the reasons he thought.

  “My mom isn’t home. Trust me.” She expelled a breath, imagining that scene. “We would have known.”

  Mom would have made a grand spectacle. Sober, drunk, or high, she would have reacted to a boy sleeping on the couch with her daughter.

  Nolan nodded as though he understood that. As though he assumed her mom was like other moms—like his—who would react with outrage.

  Except . . . no. Her mother would have been thrilled to see Hayden with a boy. Delighted. She complained that Hayden never brought her friends around.

  Hayden never commented on that. Never spoke the truth. Never reminded Mom of the bitter past. She knew better.

  Mom didn’t want to hear criticisms. There was no changing her. No getting through to her. No point trying at all.

  Which is why Hayden couldn’t understand what happened last night. Why did she let Nolan stay? Why had she even invited him inside? What had she been thinking? She never did that.

  He blew out a breath. “Well, that’s a relief.”

  Again with the assumption that her mom—had she found them asleep together on the couch—would have reacted in a way normal for normal moms.

  “Yep. No parent here. You can be relieved.” Relieved that her family life was so dysfunctional her mother didn’t even come home half the time. Relieved that so many of her nights were spent alone.

  His face looked suddenly apprehensive. “Er, I should probably go before she does come home though.”

  She stifled a snort. It was cute that he was worried about that.

  He slipped on his shoes, and she wondered when he had removed them in the first place. She’d never noticed. Of course, she had failed to notice a lot of things last night, including the moment either one of them drifted off to sleep.

  “Sorry,” he murmured. Again.

  She shrugged, wondering what he was apologizing for. His voice, his face, the way he moved, all smacked of regret.

  Regret for being here. Regret over last night.

  Even though it had felt so natural. So easy. She had enjoyed herself with him. It had felt like they were friends, which was a strange thing, as she had so few of those.

  Sitting on the couch beside him, she had actually started to feel guilty keeping the truth of her relationship with Emmaline from him. Not that it was any of his business, but he cared about his sister and Emmaline was going through something. Maybe he should know about that.

  Hayden had almost told him. Now, in the murky air of dawn, she was glad she had kept it to herself. The idea of telling him that his sister wanted to hire Hayden to teach her to be . . . She didn’t even know the proper word. Sexy? Seductive? A girl with game.

  Yeah, he would not approve. In fact, he would think it was the worst thing ever—that Hayden was the worst thing ever.

  “It’s okay,” she said, even though she didn’t know what she was reassuring him for. Maybe she was reassuring herself.

  He glanced at his phone, his thumb swiping over the screen. He muttered something low under his breath.

  “Everything okay?” she asked, assuming his phone was riddled with messages and unanswered calls from his mom. “Your mom looking for you?”

  “No. She must’ve gone to bed. Hopefully I can get home before she wakes up.” He stood and moved toward the door, and then stopped to turn back and face her. “You’re not going to . . . um, tell anyone, are you?”

  She scooted to the edge of the couch. “Tell anyone . . .” She arched an eyebrow, prompting him to spit it out.

  “Yeah. That I spent the night here?”

  “Ohhh,” she said slowly, sounding deliberately dim. “You’re worried what people will think.”

  He nodded once in acknowledgment. “Yeah. I have a girlfriend. I wouldn’t want her to . . .”

  “You wouldn’t want her to know you spent the night shacked up with me, right?” she finished for him.

  He released a brief laugh. “You’re blunt as usual, but yeah.”

  “We didn’t do anything,” she reminded him. Even as she said the words, they rang false to her ears.

  Sure. They hadn’t kissed. They hadn’t even touched each other in that kind of way. Just harmless arm brushing. There had been absolutely no shenanigans. And yet last night felt like the very definition of intimacy. She imagined it was the kind of night BFFs had all the time. Movies and popcorn and junk food and conversation that ranged from silly to profound. Only he was a guy who happened to smell really good.

  He rubbed at the back of his neck. “Yeah, I know that. But it just won’t look very good.”

  She shrugged. Of course he cared about the way things looked. That was the way it was for people like him. Guys like him who had girlfriends would care about appearances. Sure. She understood that, but it still stung. “Whatever. It’s not like I talk to anyone in your circle anyway.”

  It’s not like she talked to much of anyone at school.

  “You talk to my sister,” he reminded.

  “Actually she talks to me,” she corrected. There was that distinction. It kind of mattered. It was the reason he came over here, after all.

  “Well, I would appreciate it if you didn’t mention that I stayed over to her or anyone.”

  “You want me to lie?”

  He winced.

  She shook her head and spoke so she didn’t have to hear another word from him. “No worries. It’s not a big deal. I’ll probably forget all about it anyway.”

  Just like she would forget that she had thought he was a decent guy.

  Just like she would forget that she had thought they could be friends.

  Temporary madness.

  Shrugging, she snatched her phone off the coffee table. It gave her eyes and hands something to do while she grappled with her sudden disappointment. No. Annoyance. She was annoyed with him and annoyed with herself.

  She immediately spotted a text from the night before on the screen. It must’ve come in after she fell asleep. It was from Emmaline.

  Having a sleepover this weekend. You in? I’ll pay you for your time.

  It was all the reminder she needed. She wasn’t friends with these people. Not with Emmaline. Not with Nolan.


  She was someone to be used. Bought. Someone Nolan couldn’t own up to being friends with. A dirty secret.

  Lifting her face, she donned a smile. “You better head home. Don’t want your mom to wake up with you gone. She might put out an Amber alert.”

  He nodded, staring at her intently in the murky space of her living room. She sensed he was trying to read her, trying to peer past her snarky tone and pasted smile.

  On she smiled, holding his steady gaze, determined that he see nothing.

  “Okay. Yeah.” Another nod and he picked up his keys from the coffee table.

  She watched as he opened her front door. Limned in the smoky light of dawn, he faced her again. “Thanks. It was fun.”

  “Yeah,” she agreed, still wearing her fake smile.

  It had been fun, and it could never happen again.

  Lesson #12

  If you’re doing something you shouldn’t be, don’t get caught.

  x Nolan x

  Nolan was home before anyone woke.

  Mom worked long hours. Since Dad passed away, she had no choice. He knew it was pure luck that her bedroom door was still shut as he crept up the stairs to his room.

  Grateful that he didn’t have to explain where he spent the night—or with whom—he showered and got ready for school. He was brushing his teeth in front of the mirror with a towel wrapped around his waist when he heard Mom tromp down the stairs. He paused, listening. He knew the routine, knew the sounds of her making coffee and toast. A few minutes later, he heard her exit out the side door, so he left the bathroom and finished getting ready in his room.

  Nolan didn’t know how he would have explained his whereabouts to Mom, considering he didn’t know how to explain it to himself.

  He still had to face Priscilla, though. She’d sent him several messages last night. He’d sent her a quick one before getting in the shower, telling her he had fallen asleep while watching a movie.

  Not a lie, but not the full truth either.

  Hayden was right. Nothing had happened between them. Nothing physical anyway, but he knew Priscilla wouldn’t see it that way.

  You don’t see it that way.

  Because it felt more than that. It felt more than a good time between friends.

  He’d never even spent a night with Priscilla, but he had just spent the night wrapped up in Hayden Vargas.

  He knew how that information would affect Priscilla. She’d view it as a betrayal, even though he hadn’t technically cheated on her.

  There were degrees of cheating. Not that it was ever anything he had considered before, but last night had him thinking about that now. Last night had him thinking about it very hard.

  He had always thought cheating was black and white. Couples either remained true and faithful or they didn’t. Now he knew there was more to it than that. He may not have laid a finger on Hayden, but his mind had gone there. His emotions had crossed lines.

  He’d had a good time with Hayden, but he was also attracted to her. He liked her. He couldn’t deny that to himself. Not any longer.

  He also couldn’t deny he was overreacting about Emmaline hanging out with Hayden.

  Sure, she wasn’t like any of Emmaline’s usual friends, and she had a reputation. But was that Hayden’s fault? Should he hold it against her that guys looked at her and immediately thought about how they could get in her pants? That seemed like a them problem.

  When he emerged from his room, his sisters were already downstairs finishing their cereal. He grabbed a protein bar. “Ready to go?” he asked.

  “Where were you last night?” Emmaline asked as she set her bowl in the sink. “Mom said you were looking for me.”

  Avoiding her question, he asked Savannah, “You have a game after school today?”

  It served to distract.

  “Yeah.” She nodded. “It’s an away game at Campion. Five o’clock.”

  “I’ll be there.” Mom couldn’t always make it to her soccer games, so he made a point to be there when he could.

  “Me too,” Emmaline said.

  They all piled into his truck. His sisters sat in the back seat, leaving the front passenger seat open for Priscilla as was customary. It was habit. For all of them.

  Heading for Pris’s subdivision, he felt a twinge of something. He flexed his hands on the steering wheel and stared straight ahead, trying to ignore the discomfort pinching at the center of his chest as he wondered what would happen if picking up Priscilla every day wasn’t his normal anymore. The world wouldn’t end. It would just be different. Isn’t that the way life worked? Nothing ever stayed the same.

  He pulled up to the curb of her house. In seconds, Priscilla was hurrying down the walkway. She hopped in beside him. “Hey there.”

  The girls murmured a greeting from the back seat.

  “Study for the math test?” she asked.

  He’d forgotten all about the test they had today. Last night he had forgotten about everything the moment he walked inside Hayden’s house.

  “Yeah,” he said, wondering when had it become so easy to lie to his girlfriend.

  Lesson #13

  A full stomach makes everything better.

  x Hayden x

  Hayden splurged on pizza in the cafeteria.

  It cost two dollars and seventy-five cents a slice, but she couldn’t resist. The large gooey squares were laden with nitrates and deli­ciousness.

  They served pizza every other week, and she sacrificed hanging out in Ms. Mendez’s room during her lunch period, enduring the cafeteria so she could enjoy it. It was an indulgence, and she felt like indulging today. Nolan’s request earlier this morning that she not mention their time together still rang in her ears, a bitter reminder that she might have been good enough for him last night, but in the bright light of day she was just a dirty, shameful thing to be kept buried and secret.

  Who would she even tell?

  Holding her tray, she wove through the crowded lunchroom and picked a spot in the far corner, near the doors. Quick entry and exit. She sat at the end of the table, alone, scrolling Instagram, happily sinking her teeth into saucy, cheesy, greasy goodness.

  Her thumb swiped over the screen. She followed several of the country’s leading tattoo shops and they regularly updated their portfolios on social media. She liked to keep up with current trends.

  A tray clattered in front of her. “Hey there.”

  She looked up, startled as Emmaline sank down across from her.

  “Hey,” Hayden said slowly, glancing around as though Emmaline had maybe picked the wrong table and meant to sit somewhere else—at another table full of perky, chirpy girls like her. There seemed to be plenty of those tables around.

  More trays slammed down. Suddenly perky, chirpy girls were on each side. She was surrounded. Emmaline Martin and her friends circled her, invading her space.

  “I can’t believe you’re all eating that slop.” A girl with disapproving lips critically eyed Hayden’s and everyone else’s pizza as she opened her lunch bag and took out her turkey on wheat.

  Hayden glanced around. “Um. Are you sure you’re at the right table?”

  “Oh. Were you saving these seats?” Emmaline motioned to the chairs she and her friends now occupied.

  “Um, no.” Clearly they didn’t get it. They didn’t understand that she preferred to eat alone. She didn’t want bubbly girls around her. She wanted pizza and solitude.

  “You get my text?” Emmaline asked as her friends broke into overlapping conversations. She picked up one of her pizza squares. She’d bought two.

  “About the slumber party?” Hayden hadn’t replied to the message. She had assumed her silence would be taken for a decline.

  “Oh, fun! Are you coming?” One of Emmaline’s friends piped in like Hayden was just one of the girls—one of them.

  “No. I don’t think—”

  “Of course she is.” Emmaline looked at Hayden in rebuke.

  Hayden opened her mouth to se
t the record straight. She was not going to any slumber party.

  Suddenly, the cafeteria fell quiet. Hundreds of voices ceased talking.

  “What the—” Emmaline twisted around in her seat as a guy walked down the middle aisle. He was hard to miss. He carried a sign and at least a dozen pink balloons.

  “Oh God,” the girl with a sandwich groaned. “Spare me.”

  People stood up from their seats, craning their necks to get a better view.

  “What is it?” Hayden leaned forward in her chair, trying to peer through the obstructing crowd.

  “It’s started.” Sandwich Girl shook her head.

  The balloons the boy held bobbed in the air as he walked. There was something drawn on them in black sharpie.

  “They’re pigs! The balloons have pig faces drawn on them. How cute,” Emmaline exclaimed, clapping in approval.

  Ah. Hayden could see the faces now. Bubble eyes and piggy noses were boldly outlined against the pink latex.

  “What’s the sign say?” Emmaline asked, straining to read.

  It all clicked then. The balloons. The sign. The guy with the purposeful stride. He was asking someone to the winter formal.

  It was that time of year. Dance proposal season.

  It actually happened a few times a year. Homecoming in the fall. The winter formal in February. Then prom in the spring. Three times per school year Hayden witnessed this teenage of rite of passage. In the halls, in classrooms, in the parking lot. Vomit.

  She couldn’t think of anything stupider than getting worked up over a dance. Not when there more important things to worry about. Things like food and clothes and clean sheets.

  Emmaline hopped in place. “It says: I’d love to go to the dance with you . . . when pigs fly!”

  The boy must have reached the girl he was targeting. The cluster of balloons stopped their advance.

  “Clever,” Sandwich Girl announced blandly, delving into a bag of carrot sticks and biting into one loudly. She looked as unimpressed as Hayden felt.

  Suddenly, the balloons were released and lifted up into the air.

  Girls squealed in delight. The cafeteria erupted into applause.