Lucky Kisses(6)

By: Addison Moore

“My plans are plentiful, and they don’t involve you. So please don’t stalk me anywhere tonight. For sure I don’t need you to walk me home. Go on, shoo.” I bat him away while scanning the burgeoning crowd. “In fact, I see someone right now who I’d much rather walk me just about anywhere.” I make a beeline over to a boy I recognize from the mixers we’ve had at Beta house. He’s blond and pleasantly chunky, sporting tortoise shell rimmed glasses and a pair of classic chinos. He looks like someone I can really have a conversation with, and I plan on doing just that.

I dive right into a cerebral exchange with my chino clad friend and it’s a nice, civilized conversation at that with nary the mention of an infectious sexually transmitted disease.

A shadow looms behind me, and Dave looks up over his lenses as his jaw unhinges. I turn to find Lawson glaring as if he were ready and willing to morph into the Hulk.

“Lucky Madden! Fancy meeting you here!” Lawson’s entire face lights up as if he hasn’t seen me in a very long, lying time. He lunges in and pulls me into a monstrously tight embrace, smacking a wet kiss over my cheek that holds the strong scent of beer. “You’re really looking good, girl—the steroids really helped with the facial growth. I can hardly tell you had a beard at one time. Imagine that.” He shifts his gaze to poor unassuming Dave who looks suddenly green for many hairy reasons I’m assuming. “Lucky and I used to date way back when—high school.” He nods into his own insanity. “And here we are. Can you believe it?”

“I don’t believe it,” I grit the words through my teeth.

Lawson shakes his head with unabashed glee. “I don’t either. What are the odds?”

Dave mumbles out some lame—yet totally valid excuse about a weak and tiny bladder—and does a disappearing act toward the restroom.

“Would you go away already?” I trek over to a boy walking back from the bar with a full head of dark hair, a gloating grin on his face when he sees me as if he’s already won the vaginal prize. “Well, hello.” I do my best to get in his way, and he pauses, stepping in close as if his final in Flirting 101 is on the line.

“Hello to you, too, beautiful.” He nods up at my dark, demonic shadow. “What’s up, dude?”

“Eli Fucking Gates!” Lawson pulls him into a quick man hug. Instinctually, I know this is my cue to run and duck for cover, but something about the way Eli lit up when he saw me lets me know he’s first boyfriend at Whitney Briggs material. And the fact he’s having a bromance with Lawson only seems like a plus. I’d be honored to drive Lawson’s ego insane while having a romance of my own with Eli. He can’t have all the cute girls and the cute guys. “This, right here, is one of my favorite people!”

For a second I’m unsure if he’s referring to Eli or me.

“So, Eli”—I step in front of Lawson and take up all the precious Eli Gates’ real estate for myself. “Tell me about yourself. I want to know all about my next favorite person.”

“I transferred in last fall. I’m redshirting for Briggs.” His smile expands across his well-chiseled features. “Football.” He nods to Lawson. “I’m better than him.” He gives a quick wink.

“Oh, I know you are.” I swoop in and thread my arm through his. “I’ll take football over basketball any day of the week—and that includes the players.” I give my own sly wink back to Lawson. My first future ex-boyfriend is tall and handsome and has a dark air of mystery about him as most transfer students do. And best of all, Lawson’s face just turned a shade of slap-cheek red, a look I can really appreciate on him.

“Is that so?” Eli leans in. His face moves close to mine, and my heart thumps wild at the thought of him stealing a kiss right here in the open. Jet bounces through my mind. God forbid Jet witness any kind of lusty lip exchange between the two of us or limbs will go flying and the poor boy will never live to throw or kick another ball again. Yes, Jet is that insane and that strong.

“That’s not so.” Lawson breaks our hold on one another by way of physically yanking the two of us apart. “She’s into b-ball, dude. I should know.” He pulls me in and wraps his heavy arm over my shoulder. “Lucky and I have been together since as far back as kindergarten. They used to call us lifers.” He winks down at me, and suddenly I’m not so amused by the cheesy act. And really? Kindergarten? The next thing you know he’ll have us dating in the womb.

▶ Also By Addison Moore

▶ Hot Read

▶ Last Updated

▶ Recommend

Top Books