13. Good News And Bad News
Good News And Bad News
Bex
I t wasn’t Connor.
That’s the thought that’s swirling in my head in a constant loop the day after.
It’s mid-afternoon and the guys are at practice right now, so I have the house to myself and Lady M is the only witness to my low-key meltdown.
My body is still floating on cloud nine after last night. I’m a little sore, but it’s a good kind of sore.
When I woke up, the guys were already out for their morning skate, and I had to run to the art center for my opening shift.
Being busy was a welcome reprieve from that question that has been tormenting me since I opened my eyes. The second I got home, and I was alone with my thoughts, it started again.
Last night I kissed Connor and… I liked it.
No, scratch that. I more than liked it; it was magical. Connor’s kisses are different from Jamie’s but equally hot and addictive.
The problem is it wasn’t what I was expecting. His kisses were completely different from the kiss I got at the party from the man behind mask number six.
I prop my legs on one of the extra chairs and wrap myself tighter in the long cotton cardigan I threw over the skirt and button-down shirt I put on this morning.
Sitting out on the deck with Lady M is one of my favorite things when I need to think; but we’re getting deeper into the fall and while the weather is still pleasantly warm, the sea breeze is beginning to bring a distinctive chill in the air.
I’ve been fighting that thought all day, but right now I have nowhere to run.
If my mystery kiss wasn’t Connor…
“It can’t be Keene.” I say to Lady M.
My goldfish swims right where her fishbowl curves, kissing the glass as if to let me know that she heard me.
Then she opens and closes her little mouth over and over, like fish have to do to breathe, but I swear she’s staring at me.
If I didn’t know any better, I would say that Lady Marmalade is judging me.
“That kiss was too sweet, almost reverent. It can’t be from a guy who hates women. And truce or no truce, Keene hates me, too.”
Lady M waves her tail fin left and right. I wonder if she thinks I’m full of shit.
“Come to think of it,” I tell her. “Last night I must’ve been too nervous, and I didn’t pay attention. I’m sure that the next time I kiss Connor, I’ll see that he was my mystery kiss. It’s either that, or Luke lied about one of his roommates being behind that mask.”
Lady M swims away to the opposite side of the bowl, no longer looking at me.
“What? You disagree? You think I’m in denial? Well, you’re wrong, Lady M. You don’t know them like I do.”
Somebody clears their throat behind me, and I gasp, caught by surprise.
“Hey Bex.”
Keene steps out onto the deck, and I grab the edges of my jacket so hard that my knuckles turn white. “Fuck. I should get you a bell to wear around your neck. Are you sure you were a truck driver in the army?” I glare at him.
He shakes his head, clearly confused. “Yeah, why?”
“Because you’re as silent as a ninja. Seems like a missed opportunity to me.”
He rolls his eyes. “A missed opportunity for what? To join the U.S. Army Ninja Corps?”
God, he’s so annoying. “I know the army doesn’t have a ninja division. It was a joke. They obviously don’t teach you how to detect a joke at basic training, huh?”
His jaw ticks.
Good, he’s angry with me. Keene has a short fuse, and his patience is nonexistent. The opposite of someone who would kiss so sensually and thoroughly.
“I knew it was a joke, Bex.” He snickers. “Not a very good one, but I’m not an idiot.”
He’s so insufferable. No way he gave me a kiss I can’t forget. “Coulda fooled me.” I copy his same sardonic tone.
His smirk widens. “That’s rich coming from someone who was just arguing with a fucking goldfish.”
“Lady M is my best friend, and we weren’t arguing.” I snap. I’m dying to flip him off, but then I remember that I promised Luke I would try my best to get along with Keene. So, I take a deep breath. “What do you want, Keene?”
He steps closer, lowering himself into the chair next to mine. “I have some good news.”
Are you moving out? Do you have an incurable disease that makes you incapable of pursing your lips and therefore unable to kiss anyone?
I don’t say any of that out loud, but wait for whatever it is he came out to say.
“Our new Poonani painting got me a B minus from Professor Cantucci.”
He’s obviously pleased with the news, but I’m not. It must be the morose mood I’ve been in since I came home from work, but I’m unreasonably angry.
“A B? Did you do anything else to the painting after you got it from the art center?”
“No, why?” He looks at me as if my reaction was out of place. “That B alone isn’t enough to fix the F I got last week, but if I continue improving, I’ll get the C I need to pass that class.”
That doesn’t help my chagrin. “The reason I ask is that that work was great. It deserved at least a B plus. Maybe even an A.”
I’m literally shaking, outraged that Keene didn’t get the grade he deserved.
“Hey, hey.” He covers my hands with his. “If you keep holding onto that jacket so tight, you’re gonna tear it. What’s wrong?” He squeezes my hands in a comforting manner.
His voice has lost any trace of derision and snark, and it’s low and soothing.
“Nothing is wrong.” I snap as heat seeps from his skin to mine. “I just… I don’t understand why Cantucci lowballed you. It’s not fair.”
I also hate that he can be sweet. This isn’t even the first time. He’s looking at me the same way he was when he called me beautiful.
“Professor Cantucci hates athletes.” Keene explains. “That’s why she lowballed me. But she couldn’t give me another crappy grade thanks to you. We’ve got another assignment and two weeks to turn it in. And with your help, I know I can get the grade I need. I owe you, Bex.”
I want to look away, but I can’t. Keene’s ice-blue eyes hold me captive. And I want him to stop touching me. With his hand covering mine, I can’t think straight. I want to cry, and I want to laugh. This man makes me crazy.
My eyes go to his lips, and I can barely breathe. Is it possible?
No, it has to be Connor. I’m sure last night I was too drunk on lust to compare that kiss to the one that keeps haunting me.
Just the idea that it could be Keene makes me want to cry.
“Bex,” he squeezes my hand, his voice so soft that it barely even sounds like him. “Seriously, what’s wrong? You’re scaring me.”
I’ve never heard him speak so softly, and it’s messing with my head.
Actually, though, I have heard him speaking in that tone before.
I yank my hand away from his, my eyes narrowing as fury replaces the confusion of a second ago. “You’re speaking to me the same way you speak to Poonani.” I gasp.
“No, I’m not.” He shoots back way too quickly to sound remotely believable.
“You’re treating me like you treat your cat.”
I expected him to deny my accusation; instead, he shrugs his broad shoulders, that insufferable grin firmly back on his face.
“Because you’re behaving exactly like Poonani when I first got her. It’s no surprise, really. Women are as unpredictable as feral cats.”
I’ve never wanted to hit someone as much as I want to hit this asshole right now. “How dare you?”
Keene’s smile is replaced by exasperation. “If you don’t want me to compare you to a feral cat, stop acting like one. I just came here to thank you for saving my ass with Cantucci. How did this turn into a full-blown fight?”
Because if you’re nice to me, you make me think mask number six could have really been you.
“You insulted me.” I accuse him.
“First off, comparing you to my cat isn’t an insult. And even if it was, I said that after you lost your shit for no reason. You’re crazy.”
Maybe I am. I’m so relieved that he’s acting like his usual, unbearable self, that I might actually kiss him. Only to prove once and for all that he couldn’t possibly be my mystery kiss, of course.
I don’t really have a response to that, so I flip him off.
“Does that mean I’m on my own for my next assignment?”
Ah, that’s why he was being so nice. He just wanted to make sure I helped him out with his next project. Somehow, that is disappointing and comforting at the same time.
“I’ll help you. Cantucci told you to attend those workshops, so it’s my job.”
Keene
I swear to God, I’ll never understand women.
And Bex is the most confusing one I’ve ever met. I came here to thank her, and she almost bit my head off.
She puts me so on edge that I end up saying the most obnoxious things and sound like a complete asshole.
Even now, she’s glaring at me as if my mere existence personally offends her.
If I think I almost kissed her a minute ago, I feel like a complete idiot.
It isn’t even the first time I want to do it. I wanted to kiss her last night, when she helped me with my painting. And the other day when she saw those nasty comments on her ex-friend’s social media post.
The problem with Bex is that she’s so fucking beautiful that I can barely look at her.
The second I saw her, I knew I was in trouble.
I kept reminding myself that I came here to finish my degree and to play hockey.
Women were not a part of the deal, unless it was just meaningless hookups.
There was no way I could have hooked up with my team captain’s sister.
Luke would have killed me. But once I saw Bex, no one else would compare, and there was no way I could take care of my sexual frustration elsewhere.
Even now, while she’s glaring at me, all I want to do is kiss her stupid.
No, scratch that. I want to kiss her and then throw her over my shoulder and take her to my bedroom to show her all the filthy things I want to do with her.
There’s a long list. I’ve been adding to it more than once a day when I shower after practice. But coming to thoughts of Bex, of her soft lips and perfect body, hasn’t helped me get her out of my system. If anything, I want her even more than before.