Dating Trouble (Grover Beach Team Book 5) (15 page)

BOOK: Dating Trouble (Grover Beach Team Book 5)
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Chris pressed his lips to my throat, moaning against my skin. He whisked his tongue in a slow circle on that spot. Shivers of excitement I’d never experienced before raced through me. My entire body tensed with a tingling feeling. Something in my gut wreaked havoc. If I had to give it a name, I would call it a lunatic butterfly.

“Agh! Take your slobbery mouth off of me!” I wanted to sound a lot angrier with him but, with all the hysterical laughter, it just didn’t come out right.

His tongue moved farther up my neck until his nose nudged the spot behind my ear. “Why, that was just foreplay, Sue,” he whispered. A sharp little pain followed. He suckled only for the length of a breath, but that would be enough to mark me with an ugly spot for sure.

“Ugh! You branded me,” I whined.

Chris chuckled into my ear. “And you should show it proudly.” He picked himself off of me and pulled me to my feet.

Frantically rubbing his slobber off my neck, I pulled up my nose. “That was so…”—at a loss for a better word, I frowned—“eew!”

“Yeah, that was probably the reason you were laughing so hard, right?”

My face grew so hot, I wanted to dip my head in a water barrel.

Chris bent down and picked up his leather jacket, stuffing his arms through the sleeves. He glanced at his watch, making a wry face. “Sorry. I’d really love to fool around with you some more, but I’m still grounded so I have to go home now.” He walked a couple of steps, stopped and turned, waiting for me to follow him. “Where are you going, anyway?” he asked me, when I reluctantly caught up with him. “Can I give you a ride?”

If my aim had been anywhere other than his house, I’d have declined. But in this case, it would have been silly of me. “Actually, you can take me home with you.”

A laugh ripped from his chest. “Oh, sweetness, you don’t know how I’ve been dying for you to suggest that.”

A frustrated groan escaped me. When would I ever learn? I pinched the bridge of my nose and sighed. “Let me rephrase: You can take me home with you, where our ways will part at the front door, and I’ll spend a nice afternoon with your brother. How does that sound? Better?”

“Lame.” He rolled his eyes, but took my hand—really took it, like we were a couple going for a walk—and pulled me along to the parking lot. His fingers felt amazingly warm against mine, but my cold hands had always been an issue.

Chris noticed, too. “Whoa, what are you? Frosty the Snowman?” He squeezed a little tighter. It only took seconds for my hand to warm in his hold.

When my cell went off on vibration in my pocket a moment later, I pulled it out, checking who had texted me.

“Who’s Charlie Brown?” Chris asked me, leaning over my shoulder and reading the sender ID.

With a laugh, I admitted, “Your brother.” He didn’t need to get the full explanation.

Chris furrowed his brows and shook his head. “You two are strange.” After a quick pause, he added, “Do you have a name for me, too?”

Whoa, that was something I really didn’t want to tell him. But my hesitation was answer enough. His eyes grew wide. “You do? What is it?”

“Nothing.” I turned away and read the message. Ethan wanted to know where I was. He’d expected me at his house some time ago, but Chris had thwarted my plans of being punctual.

On the way
, I wrote back, and I was about to tuck my cell back into my pocket, when Chris snatched it right out of my hand.

“Hey! Give it back!” I tried to grab it, but Chris was too fast and pulled it out of my reach.

“Let’s see,” he drawled, holding my phone up in the air with one hand and fending me off with the other. Looking up, I could see how he navigated to the SMS folder and skimmed through my texts, easily finding the ones that were from him, because there were so many of them. Uh-oh…

Chris lowered his hand and took a step back, staring at me with a dumbstruck expression. “‘Arrogant Dick’? You can’t be serious.” From the sound of it, I’d hurt his pride but not made him angry. There glimmered, after all, some amusement beneath the layer of shock in his eyes.

I shrugged it off. “What can I say? That’s what I got to know you by.”

He leveled me a stern but still taunting look and held my phone out to me with a stiff arm. “You are so going to change that. Now.”

“Nuh-uh. It is what it is.”

“Fine, then I’ll do it for you.” He turned his back on me and worked on my phone. I tried to slip around him, but he moved away each time I started a new attack, until he had finished his job and handed me my cell with a satisfied grin. Snorting, I put it away, refusing to check if he’d really replaced the
Arrogant Dick
with his name, so we could finally head on to the parking lot.

Climbing into the passenger’s seat of his mother’s car and buckling myself in, I prepared for a terrible five-minute drive of taunting. What caught me unaware was Chris’s silence. Soon, it made me uncomfortable, because his enchanting scent filling the car’s interior was the only thing I could concentrate on.

After a while, I started picking invisible lint off my jeans, glad for any distraction.

“Do I make you nervous?”

My head jerked up. He watched me from the corner of his eyes. Weird as it might be, cocky Chris was easier to handle than silent Chris. I cast him a cynical grin. “You never give up, do you?”

“Not as long as there’s a hint of a chance.” He showed a quarter of an inch with his thumb and forefinger. Then he drummed his fingers on the wheel for a moment and his smirk subsided. “Can I ask you a serious question?”

I bit my lip, blinking in a startled way. “I’m almost certain you can
not
, but please, go ahead and give your best.”

“Very funny.” He smiled in spite of his faked hurt. “Anyway, tell me… Why would you go out with my brother, who’s my absolutely identical twin and who told you yesterday that a romance was not in the cards for the two of you, but not with me?”

So Ethan had talked to him about us. Actually, it shouldn’t have surprised me. They were brothers, after all, and Chris sometimes seemed to really care about Ethan, if nothing else. I studied him for a long moment, and in that time his eyes nervously switched back and forth between me and the windshield.

“You think it’s only about looks, don’t you?”

“No.” He sounded like a sulking little kid; like he actually wanted to say
yes
instead. At the next instant, a boyish smirk bulldozed through. “I think I can also be quite charming.”

I remembered the cream-dipped kiwi and had to grant him that. But frankly, his most charming moment had been when he didn’t know I was listening. What he’d said to Ethan at Burger King—those things he’d said behind the closed door—that was what made me think Chris could appeal to me in some ways.

“Yes, you can be. If you want to,” I admitted. “But it’s not enough to make me want to go out with you. You may look like your brother, but other than that, you’re two totally different people. Like day and night, really.”

“So you’d rather kiss a guy who’s shy and insecure.”

“I thought we were talking about going out, not kissing?” I mocked him.

He waggled his brows in my direction. “That goes hand in hand.”

“Okay then… I’d rather go out
and
kiss a guy, who doesn’t date a different girl every day.”

Chris contemplated that. It took him a few minutes to come up with a reply, and by that time, he’d parked the car in front of his house. Cutting the engine, he leaned forward, folded his arms on the steering wheel, and rested his cheek on them, locking blue eyes with mine. “Give me a reason not to.”

My heart pounded a little faster, just enough to make me aware that his intense gaze affected me. I had to unstick my tongue from the roof of my mouth before I could get out an answer. “It doesn’t work that way, Chris.”

Holy Jesus, had I just given him an incentive to stop dating other girls? Because it really wasn’t meant to come out that way.

He hesitated another immeasurable moment, like he was seriously considering the idea. Eventually, the left corner of his mouth went up in a challenging smile. “All right,” he said in a rather low voice. “Let’s do it your way.”

I hardly had time to gasp as he got out of the car. With shaky fingers, I fumbled with the seat belt buckle, climbed out, too, and slammed the door. Chris went across the short front yard to the house, leaving me behind. He locked the car with the remote on the key ring.

“Wait!” I called, too confused to catch up with him. “That’s not— Just—
No
!”

He unlocked and opened the front door before he turned to face me. As I reluctantly walked up to him, his gaze slid down to my neck and a smirk stole across his face. “Your rules. You laid them down, so you better stick to them.”

I shook my head.

Chris nodded in determination.

He reached for my hand and pulled me inside.

“Chris? Is that you?” His mother’s voice came from the living room.

He placed a finger over his lips, shushing me, then shouted, “Yes, Mom!”

What in the world was he up to? My thoughts were still running a little wild, so I totally forgot to protest when he dragged me to his room. Once inside, he pushed the door closed but didn’t shut it completely. He probably didn’t intend to keep me in here for long.

Stiff like a rock, I waited in the middle of his room while he went to fetch something from a drawer. A dark red bandana. With a frown, I watched him shake it out and fold it to a triangle. As he came closer, I took a wary step back.

My shyness amused him. “Hold still,” he told me and came forward again. Gently, he tied the bandana around my neck. He hooked his finger into it and skimmed his thumb over the hickey. “You know,” he said in a soft voice, “I wouldn’t have done that if—for only one second—I’d had the feeling you weren’t enjoying it.”

My heart batted an agitated rhythm in my chest. Maybe I should have said something; maybe I should have ripped the bandana off my neck and thrown it at his face. But I did neither. Instead, I spun on my heel and walked out of his room, wanting to forget the entire past half hour with him.

Chapter 13

 

 

ETHAN DIDN’T ASK me why I was wearing his brother’s bandana around my neck. He probably didn’t even know that it was Chris's, but I had the worst conscience while in his room. I’d let the brother of my first real love bite me, and only one day after I found out Ethan and I weren’t meant to be together. How terrible was that of me?

Or was it? I mean, Chris’s mouth on my neck didn’t feel so bad. And what he did for me on the soccer field was really sweet…in an odd way. If Ethan got a chance to hang out with Ted and have fun, he’d probably do so without a guilty conscience, right?

“Susan, is everything okay?”

I looked up and found Ethan’s narrowed eyes on me. “Yes.”

He lifted his brows. “Are you sure?”

“Of course. Why do you keep asking?”

“Because you haven’t moved a single player of your team in like two minutes.”

Crap.
FIFA
. What was up with me today? “I’m sorry. I’ll pay more attention now.”

Ethan paused the game and lowered his controller. “Do you want to talk about something? Maybe about yesterday? It was probably more of a shock than you’d thought at first, huh?”

“No! No… That’s not it.” I could handle gay Ethan. I just couldn’t seem to handle nice Chris. Struggling for a happy expression, I joked, “As long as you’re fine with still being the man in my fancy dreams, I’m all right.”

He laughed out loud. “I’m totally fine with that. But one of these days you should go out with the guy next door. I think you two would make a stunning match.”

My chin dropped to my chest. “What made you say that?”

Ethan looked at me as if he wasn’t sure whether he’d said something wrong, or if I was just interpreting it wrong. He scratched his head and sucked in a deep breath, which was meant for encouragement, no doubt. “Um…he asked me something yesterday.”

“Yeah?” A foreboding layer of goosebumps sprouted on my skin. “What did he want?”

Scooting away from my side and turning so that he was facing me on his bed, he crossed his legs and rested his forearms on his knees. “When he got all serious and told me he needed to talk to me, I thought he was going to ask me about…well, you know, about me and guys. I know he’s been wondering for a while now.”

“But he didn’t ask you about it.” It was a statement more than a question.

“No, he didn’t.”

Then what the hell did Chris want to know? I hated when people got all reticent about important things, and from the sound of it, this was something important.

“He asked me if I was in love with you.”

Oh. “Why would he ask that?”

His eyes searched my face. “Because he would never date a girl I had true feelings for. He’s kind of a player, all right, but even he has a line. And as it seems, that line is me.” After a short pause and more intense eye contact, he continued, “He’s developing a real interest in you, Susan.”

Hah! He just wants to add me to his damn list. If he scores, even better. Ethan’s severe expression, however, stopped me from throwing that bit of sarcasm out. Instead, I asked him with the same serious tone, “Why do you think you’re right about this?”

“Because he told me so.”

I gulped. Boy, if only he would have recorded that conversation. I was ready to kill to hear what they really said. “Come on, Ethan, Chris is a playboy. You said it yourself. His interest will only last until after the first date.”

“Maybe…” Ethan shrugged. “Maybe not.”

“Anyway,
I’m
not interested, and you don’t want me to talk about Chris while we’re playing video games, do you?”

“Nah, not really.” Chuckling, he came back to my side and continued the game. But after a few minutes, he said, “Oh, one more thing, Chris asked me if I knew what kind of cake you like, because he intends to bake one on Saturday when we cook dinner for you.”

A smile sneaked to my lips. Arrogant Dick or not, that was sweet of Chris.

Later that evening, I sat on my own bed and began reading the last
Outlander
book. My gaze drifted to the clock above my door and I wondered if Chris would send me a text again tonight. It was eight fifteen. His messages usually came in around half past nine.

A couple of pages later, my mind strayed away from the written words to Chris and the soccer field. Unable to concentrate, I closed the book, reached for my phone, and typed a message for Ethan.
You can tell your brother I like cakes with cream and fruit.

Three minutes later, a text came back, but it was not from Ethan. It was from someone who was saved as
Dream Guy Material
in my contact list. I burst out laughing. It took me a couple of minutes until I could finally read the message, because I was shedding tears of hilarity at the new name Chris had picked for himself.

LOL. Why didn’t you tell me that yourself?

Oh shoot! I hadn’t meant for Ethan to tell him about the cake
now
. Tomorrow or sometime this week would have totally done the job. Even though I was alone in my room, an uncomfortable flush heated my face. I rubbed my cheeks and growled, then texted back:
I didn’t know if I’d reach you at an inappropriate moment. What if you were with another girl right now? For all it’s worth, you’re
dream guy material
.

I’m glad you finally realized that ;-) But I’m grounded, sweetness. And you’re the only girl coming to our house these days. No need to worry.

Was I worrying? Certainly not! Although I didn’t like the thought of him kissing my throat and then kissing another girl with the same mouth on the same night. While these thoughts spiraled up and down in my mind, another text came in.
What’s your favorite?

My favorite what?
I messaged back.

Fruit. For the cake.

Ah.
I like kiwi. :P
Chew on that, smart ass! I grinned to myself, wondering if he got the hint, though.

His final text—and I knew it was the last one for tonight because it ended with “Sleep tight, sweetness”—had a link to YouTube in it. The nerves in my stomach twitched as I clicked the link and waited for the video to load and play.

My eyes grew wide. I couldn’t believe it. Sam Smith’s “Stay” was his answer to my kiwi. He actually remembered what he was singing when he fed me the fruit. A soft laugh rocked my body as I turned off the light at a quarter to nine. I didn’t want to read any more
Outlander
tonight.

 

*

 

Wednesday after science, I headed down the corridor with Sam. She was the first, and for now the only, one of my friends I’d told about the odd incident on the soccer field with Chris. Wearing a turtleneck instead of Chris’s bandana today to hide the traitorous mark on my throat, I pulled it down for a moment to show her the evidence.

“Whoa, that’s gross. And you let him do that?”

“I…don’t know. Maybe I did.” Shamefaced, I lowered my head. Chris had been right. My laughter would have made any other guy believe as well that I was enjoying it, even if I kept telling myself I didn’t. I mean, I usually laughed when I hurt myself, so why not when I got eaten, too?

We continued down the hallway, and suddenly someone’s arm wrapped around my shoulders. It didn’t feel quite like last time when Chris had caught me unaware to ask me whether his brother had kissed me. The size of this guy wasn’t right, and neither was the smell. For a weird moment, I felt the pull of disappointment but abandoned the thought really fast.

“Hey, booklover,” Hunter said in my ear, but not at all quiet and subtle. “Do we have another dream couple coming up?”

I frowned at him sideways. “What do you mean?”

“Well, Chris has been asking me a lot of questions about you. Any idea why?”

I did have an idea. He wanted to find out the easiest way into my pants so this stupid game could be over for him, but that wasn’t something to be said out loud and in front of my friends. “I hope you didn’t tell him too much,” I whined.

“Only the very basics, I promise.” When he laughed, I wondered what exactly the very basics covered.

Of course, when Hunter was here, Chris couldn’t be too far, and around the next corner we ran into him. He turned and smiled when he heard us. “Sleep well last night?” he asked in a low, taunting voice, leaning a little closer to me after Hunter had taken his arm away.

I couldn’t help the grin that pulled at the corners of my mouth. “With a catchy song in my ears, actually.”

Mischief sparked in his cornflower-blue eyes. He opened his mouth to say something, but a female voice broke him off. I was sure I’d heard that voice before, but couldn’t place it until I turned to look at Lauren. She was a little taller than me and her black hair shone like liquid coal with sunlight in it.

“Hey, Lauren,” Chris said, not showing any hint of the irritation I suddenly felt in her presence. “What’s up?”

With the back of her hand, she brushed her perfect hair over her shoulder and gave him a stunning smile. To her credit, the smile was warm enough to melt a snowball and it was directed at all of us, not just him. “You said you’d call me about tutoring you in Spanish again.”

“Ah, right.” He grimaced. “I totally forgot about that.”

“Yeah, I noticed,” she said with a soft laugh.

Chris rubbed his neck. “You see, it’s a little difficult right now…because…I’m grounded.”

“I don’t mind if we study at your place.” There was just this little bit of
offer
in her voice and I suddenly wasn’t sure if I should turn and walk away. But none of the others around us seemed to feel that particular need to give them privacy, so I remained rooted to the spot. I might have been mistaken, after all.

“Ah, no. That’s not a good idea right now,” Chris murmured. Was he even aware that his eyes switched to mine for the tiniest moment? “In fact, I don’t think I’ll need extra Spanish lessons for a while.”

Lauren’s warm smile faltered. She blinked a couple of times. “Are you sure?”

Oh my God, it hadn’t been a mistake. She was implying more than just studying in her offer. And Chris…the idiot had actually brushed this super hottie off. What had gotten into him?

Sam poked me in the ribs with her elbow, and I coughed. As all eyes turned to me, I felt the awkward urge to say something, so I murmured the best I could come up with. “Excuse me.”

I didn’t hear the end of the conversation between Chris and Lauren, because Sam hissed in my ear, “You were staring with an open mouth. Hunter’s watching you. If you don’t want to start rumors, you better get a grip.”

I was just surprised, was all. Why would anyone take that the wrong way? But Sam was right and Ryan’s gaze was moving back and forth between me and Chris. He was smirking. With a little effort, one could certainly hear things clicking together in his mind right now. I cleared my throat and wanted to tell him to shove it, but Lauren saying goodbye to all of us cut me short. She sent Chris a smile that held a fraction of the warmth of before and told him, “See you in Spanish.” Then she headed away.

Hunter moved closer with drawn brows. “Did that really just happen?” he whispered in my ear.

What? Chris declining an offer? I wasn’t sure myself. Obviously not expecting an answer anyway, Ryan turned to the left down the hall. Chris didn’t follow him but faced me instead. Hands raised in a surrendering gesture, he drawled, “Your rules.”

What the heck—

He adjusted his backpack on his shoulder and walked off, leaving Sam and me alone.

Sam scrunched her face at me. “I have to go to history. See you later.”

And I headed off to French.

After everything that had happened—the hickey, holding hands, and the misunderstanding about my
rules
—I just didn’t want to run into Chris at his house that afternoon, so instead of hanging out with Ethan again, I talked the girls into Christmas shopping. I got my dad a key ring that bleeped when someone clapped their hands, because he tended to put his car keys in places where it often took him hours to find them again. For my grandfather, I bought a do-it-yourself fighter jet made of balsa wood in a crafts store. He loved building models. Mom was a hard nut and I’d have to go shopping for her again another day. Of course, I couldn’t get presents for my friends when they were with me. At least their repeated “now look at that” or “aw, this is so pretty” gave me some good ideas.

When I came home that evening, a wave of animosity slapped me in the face and chased away all the pre-Christmas joy.

“I can’t stop doing them! It’s what pays best!” Mom shouted in the next room.

Ah no… An argument about night shifts again. I rubbed my temples and moaned.

“You’re hardly home three nights a week,” Dad complained. “How can we ever sort out our problems if you’re gone most of the time? It’s not working that way, Sally. I’m not going to take that from you much longer!”

Where were the times when we all watched TV in the living room together and no one spat venom at each other?

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