Switched: Flirt New Adult Romance (18 page)

“Did you fall asleep with your eyes open?” I ask, biting back my smile.

He shakes his head, and his gaze goes to the oh-so-interesting countertop while his face turns to fire hydrant color. “Sorry. Long day, and that smells so good.”

“Well, don’t expect your woman to dish it out for you too,” I say, stretching on my tiptoes to try to get to the plates. But curse this tiny body, I can’t reach them. “Because unless you help, we’ll be eating from the pan.”

He lets out his real bark of laughter, not that tired chortle from earlier, and takes the two steps to get to me. His arm stretches over my head, and I get a strong whiff of gummy bears, mixed with the aroma of the lasagna sitting on the stove. It sounds like those’d be gross together, but for some reason I think it smells pretty good.

“Where are your spatulas?” I ask, opening a few drawers and coming up empty-handed.

“Spatula? Where do you think you are?” He grins and grabs a big spoon for me instead. “This is a man spatula. Watch, it works just as well.”

He cuts into the food and scoops up the corner piece. Right before it gets to his plate, it flops off and onto the counter. “Oh shit,” he says, laughing and trying to salvage what’s left on the spoon, banging it against the edge of the plate. “And it had to be the corner piece! That’s the best part.”

I pull out the wet towel I whipped him with and wipe up the mess. “Don’t worry, dear. How many corners are in a rectangle?” I say in a baby voice. “Don’t think too hard, now. Just count them.”

He grabs my side and tickles it, and I threaten to cover that white shirt with lasagna if he doesn’t stop.

He does a much better job with the next scoops, though they don’t stay in perfect squares. It all tastes the same even if it looks like a pile of crap on the plate.

“Whoa!” he says when we get to the living room and sees the results of my DVD organizing. “Were you trying to rob me?”

“You’re lucky I’m
not
a thief. Thieves don’t come in and make sure all the movies are in the right place before they take them. You’d have a very pissed-off burglar if they came in for
The Departed
and got
The Sound of Music
instead.”

“It’s my personal security system.” He smiles and plops on the couch. Half his lasagna is gone in two seconds. I laugh at his enthusiasm.

“Well, I’m not leaving till every movie is in its rightful home.” I take a much more graceful bite of food, leaning back into the couch with him.

He gives me this funny look, half smile, half confusion. But it’s only there for a few seconds before another forkful of pasta is in his mouth.

“So,” he says when we’ve both finished our dinner and I’m back on the floor moving DVDs around, “our best friends broke up.”

“Yup.”

“You feel like I do?”

I twirl my tongue, my eyes searching the floor for
Liar Liar
. “Confused?”

He barks out a laugh. “Hell yeah. Especially since Talon’s suddenly talking chicks with me. You’ll be happy to know you’re a frequent topic of conversation.”

My insides curl up, but I’m not sure if it’s because I’m happy or because I feel super guilty. So I keep my face composed as I stick another DVD in the right case. “What is he saying exactly?”

Wesley shrugs, then slides off the couch and starts helping me sort through his movies. “Just wants to know if there’s anything going on between us.”

“Us meaning you and me?” I ask, cocking an eyebrow at him.

“Yeah.”

“What did you tell him?” My eyes move back to the floor.

“The truth. That we’re friends.”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah.”

I blow out a breath, tucking a loose curl behind my ear. “Did you think we’d get this far? I have no idea what to do next or what to think or how to deal with it all.”

Now it’s his turn to let out the air he’s been holding in. “Yes, that’s
exactly
how I’m feeling. Reagan always seemed like something that would never happen. Even if they broke up, exes are usually off-limits. Now it seems like Talon’s asking my permission to go after you, and trying to shove Reagan in my face like he doesn’t give a shit if I start dating her.”

“Yeah, Reagan’s acting the same.” I pause, twirling a DVD on my finger. “What the hell
happened on Christmas night?”

“I don’t know, but I think what we need to do is cool it. Give them time to be away from each other and us, so we’re not rebounds.”

I nod, even though the thought of not seeing the guys for a few weeks makes my stomach shrivel like a prune left in the sun. I can’t exactly stay away from Reagan, seeing as I live with her. “So we go with the flow?”

“Yeah.”

My shoulders slump and I put the last DVD away. “I don’t think I have the personality for that.”

“Really?” he asks in mock surprise, motioning to all the movies. “I couldn’t tell.”

“Shut up.” I shove his shoulder, and hello, arms! They’re pretty stiff and hard. Never noticed that before.

“I should warn you, I may test Talon on this in a couple of weeks, though.”

“What?”

“I’m going to ask Reagan out. See if he’s really over her.”

Why did that make me pout? My lip shot right out there on its own accord. I quickly tuck it back in before Wesley notices.

“Sounds like a plan,” I say, hoping I sound lighthearted and excited for him. Maybe I’m jealous because I
can
see Reagan and Wesley together, but Talon and I still feel like a pipe dream.

“I’ll let you know if Talon says anything else about you. But I think you’ve got it covered. Whatever you two did while Reagan and I weren’t around sure had an effect on him.”

Okay, Wesley knows how to make me feel better, even when he doesn’t realize he’s doing it. Talon even has good taste in best friends.

I try to hide my flushed cheeks, but so much for that being successful. Wesley fans me like I’m on fire, making me heat up more, and I end up running for the wet towel again while he pins me against the counter. He tickles me till I yell for mercy and my cheeks are sore from laughing.

Yeah, Wesley always knows how to make me feel better.

I help him put away the food and all the movies before I grab my jacket. I know he’s exhausted, even though he seems laced with energy now; he’ll probably zonk out the second I leave.

“Talk to you soon,” I say, ready to close the door behind me.

“Hey, Kayla?”

I stop. “Yeah?”

“Thanks.” His cheeks turn a slight shade of pink. “You know, for dinner and stuff. And
for the tip you left me.”

My eyebrows go up, but I can’t keep the guilty smile off my face. “Why, Wesley, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

He laughs and I watch the dimple pop on his chin before closing the door between us. I don’t feel any less confused about everything, but at least I don’t feel alone anymore.

Progress Report: January 18

Things to report on for the last two weeks, which have been, sadly, uneventful.

Some kind of hint, I guess. I don’t know.

So it feels like we’ve all drifted apart, but I’m the only one who’s feeling that way. From everyone else’s actions, it looks like they think we’re all nice and tight like always. But I’m sitting here missing what we used to have. Even though I had to put up with my best friend dating Talon, at least I felt a part of something. Now I’m not sure what’s going on.

Oh! I just got a text from Talon, so I’m gonna chat with him till I go to bed. Wish me luck in not getting that gross feeling in my tummy afterward. You know, if journals can do that sort of thing.

(And don’t get mad at your accomplice for doing the same thing.)

Third down and seven, and twenty-two sexy football player butts in the air. Talon reaches in between number fifty-two’s legs and calls out that down, set, hickey thing. As soon as the ball touches his big capable man hands, everyone scatters, and all I see is Talon backing up, backing up, backing up, then launching the football through the air right before some jerk from the defense plows over the sexy quarterback.

I remember screaming his name, but I don’t hear it on the video over all the shrieks Reagan let out. Talon threw a perfect spiral to number fifteen, who was in the end zone. The coach was crazy not to start him. Look at him shine during this practice.

This is totally why I pulled out this video. I need to get my head back on and focus on the task at hand. Maybe reliving his awesome moment will help.

The students who packed themselves in the bleachers start to dissipate as the coach calls in the team. We were pretty close to championship games, so practices were the prelude to the real thing, and an excuse to throw a party.

Reagan skips down the bleachers, flip-flops slapping the concrete, when the team breaks apart. Most players go to the locker room, but not all. Not the ones with girlfriends lined up along the fence to give their guys a kiss before they change.

Talon was super sweaty that day. Even on my crappy phone recording, I can see the perspiration dripping from his hairline, and his pits are soaked. I remember thinking that was the sexiest image in the world, but as I watch him and Reagan peck through the chain link, all I can think about is how wet that must’ve been, and how it feels like it’s my fault they don’t do that anymore.

“Hey, Kayla!”

My phone slips through my fingers, but luckily it lands back in my purse. Right next to a
condom Reagan shoved in there. Continuing her condom war, I guess. I’ll have to find a way to get it back in her court.

Talon waves me over to the other side of the cafeteria, his football buds leaving to go to the field to mess around or something. But Talon stays planted in his seat, waiting for me to come over. I smile and pray to the high heavens I don’t fall down as I make my way toward him.

“What’s up?” Yay, I rehearsed that line in my head the whole way over, and it came out beautifully.

“Nothing much.” Talon starts tossing all his napkins and stuff in a paper bag as he kicks out a chair for me. “You here by yourself?”

I nod, adjusting the strap of my purse on my shoulder while I sit. “Wesley’s working and Reagan’s there bugging him.”

“Well, cool. You going to stick around for a bit?”

His blue eyes get this hopeful-puppy-dog look in them, and I sigh. Yay! I think I’m getting back in regular crushed out-Talon mode.

“Sure.”

“Awesome. I want to talk to you about something. I’ll be back after, you know.” He gestures to all the garbage on the table, and I melt a little into the ground. Just a little. “Mmmkay.”

He gets up and heads to the trash cans at the other side of the room, and I try to enjoy the view for a few seconds. I can’t believe Talon is single, and I’m to the point of saying more than two words to him and way past the point of anonymous spirit cookies. Reagan is out of the picture and we’re still all good friends. Even Reagan and Talon have been civil to each other. It’s perfect.

Then why do I still feel so weird about it? It’s like my stomach has decided to vacate my body completely, leaving me with this giant hole. And it’s a hole that only Wesley has been able to fill, temporarily, whenever we get the chance to talk about it. Which is hardly ever.

I shake my head and start counting the breaths I’m taking. Focus, focus, focus. I need to rid my brain of any thoughts that will distract me from my end goal. Wesley and I set out to make Talon and Reagan see us. Here’s my chance. I need more epic moments with the sexy man I love.

My phone sounds in my purse. It’s Reagan’s ringtone: “Single Ladies.” Her idea, not mine.

Hey! Wesley asked me out for this weekend! BIG smiley faces!!!!

The rest of my insides join my stomach on whatever vacation it’s on, leaving me at a complete loss for a response. I should be happy. This is what I want. Instead I’m getting this creepy-crawly feeling starting in my chest and going up through my neck. It’s too soon.
Seriously,
way too soon
for dates. Talon’s going to kick Wesley’s ass, and if Reagan is using Wesley as a rebound, I’m going to kick
her
ass.

Wesley better know what he’s doing. Or our love square and our plan will be shot straight to hell.

I shoot back a quick smiley face, then immediately text Wesley.

You better hope Talon’s okay with this
.

I don’t expect a text back. But my phone dings almost instantly.

He is. Looks like he’s got someone else on his mind
.

What does that mean?

“Kayla?”

“Oh hey.” Should’ve practiced that line too, since it came out like I was caught picking my nose. Talon smiles and sits next to me—like
right
next to me—his knee slightly touching mine.