What A Kiss Is

Chapter Eight

“I didn’t mean to!”

Didn’t mean to. Right. I’ve used that one before, and I was lying. Just like she is now. “That’s ridiculous! You either mean to and do it, or you don’t do it!”

She grabs my arm. “What’s with you?”

“I ordered a fucking coffee for my mom, and I have no idea why!” I jerk my arm back and this time she lets me go.

- - -

I’m slumped on the back of Dad’s boat. Damn coffee in hand, and the masochistic side of me almost wishes I was drinking the coffee Mom always drank. The smell, the sweetness of it. My phone buzzes in my pocket.

DAVID: LIKE IT OR NOT, I’M COMING FOR 2 DYS TO HANG W U. SEE U IN A WEEK.

I nearly spit out my coffee. Now what? I start typing.

SEE U THEN.

It’s the only thing I can say without coming off as an asshole. I have no idea how I feel about David coming to town. He’s a good friend. Maybe it’ll be nice to have him here. Maybe. Mostly I just want… Actually, I have no idea what the hell I want aside from my life to be what it was before Mom sent me here.

My phone buzzes again, and I’m trying to think of something clever to say to David, but it’s not from David. It’s from Amber.

AMBER: SORRY. CAN I COME BY LATER?

Am I a glutton for punishment here? I want her to come over.

ANYTIME

Now I sound desperate.

“Hey.” Her voice shoots me to sitting.

“Hey.” I hold up my phone. “Did you wait for my text, or did you think it would be funny to pop in?”

“I hoped you’d say I could come.” Her blue eyes are open wide, throwing the full force of their power on me.

I gesture with my hand. “Come on up.”

She’s in her tiny running shorts. I’d be freezing in this misty, rainy, weather, but it doesn’t seem to bother her. She sits across from me at the round table on the back deck of the boat.

“Wha’cha up to?” she asks.

“Was texting a crazy girl who was standing a few feet from me,” I tease. It feels good to have her here—the girl that’s making me slowly insane.

“I didn’t want you to be mad.” Her brows come down and her mouth pulls into a small frown.

I rub my hand over my head and let out a breath. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled.”

“It’s okay.”

“You don’t have to keep cutting me slack cause of…” Mom.

“You’re right. And I should just make up my mind already, right?” It looks like she’s trying hard to smile, but failing miserably.

“I’m not talking about this with you,” I say. Not about Amber with boys. Ever. At all. She’s too cool for me to think about her with someone else. Wait. Else. Like she should be with me. Yeah—Amber probably needs someone a lot different than me. And she’s definitely not like any girl I’ve been with, so the whole attraction thing is still confusing the hell out of me.

“Why not?”

“Because I’m not at all qualified to give you any advice.” I smirk.

We sit in silence. Staring until her eyes find her lap.