22. Stella
CHAPTER 22
STELLA
W hen I go back inside, Marissa is in the kitchen making a cup of tea.
“Oh, you’re home.” I try to keep my voice level. “How was your work thing?”
“Not nearly as good as your back patio thing.” She pins me with a look. “Which one was better?”
“Which one what?”
“Who’s the better kisser?”
“Oh, you saw that?” I’m failing at nonchalance, but I give it my best effort.
“Yeah, I mean, I wasn’t trying to spy on you, but when I saw that there was more than one figure out on the patio, I had to find out what was going on. What I saw was a bit of a shock,” she says.
“Bit of a shock for me, too. But those were just thank-you kisses.”
“Thank-you kisses?” My friend’s voice drips with skepticism.
“There was a skunk on our patio, and I got trapped outside with it?—”
Her eyes widen. “Really? Well, ordinarily a skunk would be exciting news, but let’s focus on what’s important first. Those were not thank-you kisses. Unless it was thank you for having the faces and bodies of gods. Let me stick my tongue down your throats.”
“Marissa! There was no tongue involved. And my god, you’re starting to sound like Ana.”
“I guess she has rubbed off of me. So you kissed them to thank them for chasing away a skunk? Weirdest excuse I’ve ever heard, but okay.”
“Cam suggested it. And …I was grateful about the skunk.”
She snorts out a laugh, then gives me another skeptical look.
“Okay. I was curious.”
“So am I. How were they?”
I consider downplaying how amazing the kisses were, but I’m not that much of an actress. “Good. Really good.”
Marissa nods, as if this confirms exactly what she expected.
“They offered to come by tomorrow to patch up the fence, so the skunk can’t get in again.”
“No doubt they’ll want more thank-you kisses.”
I shake my head at her, even as my stomach flutters at the thought of kissing them again. “It’s late. I’m going to get ready for bed.”
“Sweet dreams,” she calls after me with a smile in her voice.
It takes quite a while to get to my sweet dreams, because I have a really hard time falling asleep. Even though I try to distract myself by thinking about mundane things, my brain keeps replaying the kisses.
The way Cam’s thumb gently stroked my cheek as his lips pressed mine. How exciting it felt to be so close to his body. The way Wyatt took control so completely. A shiver—the good kind—runs through me at the thought of it.
I’m glad Marissa didn’t persist in asking which kiss was better, because I could never choose.
The longer I lie there trying to fall asleep, the more surreal it all seems. I can’t believe I kissed them, and I’m still not sure what came over me. I know I shouldn’t have done it, because it’s only going to make it harder to stop thinking about them.
Sure, I was curious, and maybe I got caught up in the excitement of the evening. When Cam made the suggestion, it seemed like the perfect opportunity, and I can’t bring myself to regret it. In fact, if I had any regrets, it’s that both kisses were too short.
Squeezing my pillow to fluff it, I roll over onto my other side. It’s impossible to relax with the kind of wild excitement that’s running through my veins right now. I haven’t felt this way since … well, maybe ever. Maybe Ana is right that I’m like a virgin again, because I feel like I just experienced my first kiss—times two.
* * *
As promised, Wyatt and Cam arrive at my front door the next morning shortly after nine with a bag full of supplies.
“We know you’re busy working and we don’t want to disturb you, but we’ll make sure no more smelly vandals can get into your back yard,” Wyatt says.
I feel closer to them after the kisses, like I know them better somehow, but I also suddenly feel shy.
Those kisses were potent. So much better than how it felt to kiss them in that weird dream about the marshmallows, and now that I’m face-to-face with them this morning, I can’t stop thinking about kissing them again.
“Do you have someone who cuts your lawn?” Wyatt asks.
“Marissa and I do it, though neither of us particularly enjoys it, so we tend to let it get a little long.”
“So you have a mower?” When I nod, he says, “We’ll take care of it.”
I shake my head. “You don’t have to do that.”
“I know. I want to do it.”
“Don’t you have to work, too?”
Cam shrugs this off. “I can record some footage while we cut the grass, so we can be working and trimming the yawn at the same time.”
It sounds ridiculous, but I know their followers will love watching them cut grass. In fact, I’m going to have a hard time not watching them, especially since I just know they’re going to have their shirts off while they do it.
“Will the noise from the lawnmower disturb your work?” Wyatt asks.
“I think it’ll be okay, but really, you don’t need to do that.”
“You work hard,” Cam says. “What’s wrong with letting someone help you once in a while?”
“Okay, but I can pay you.”
“No, you can’t. We’re just being neighborly.” Cam nods toward my laptop, sitting open on the dining table. “You’d better get back to work.”
So I do, though I’m very distracted by the thought of the men working in my yard, and I lose all train of thought when either of them passes by the back door.
It’s like a live-action Battle Duel Boys reel, all for my own personal viewing, but then I remember that they’re recording footage to post for all their followers. The jealousy that accompanies this thought isn’t rational.
After about an hour, Wyatt knocks on the back door. “Do you have time to come outside so we can show you the places we patched the fence?”
They lead me to the side of the house where the skunk exited, and then also around to the other side, where they found another small hole.
“Your yard is secure now,” Wyatt says with a satisfied grin.
“Thank you for that, and for cutting the lawn, too. I really appreciate it.”
“No big deal.”
Maybe it’s no big deal to them, and it’s just basic yard work, but it gives me a strange feeling.
No man has ever made me feel like he was taking care of me, not even my father or stepdad. Another wave of shyness hits me, along with some other kind of tender emotion I can’t quite name, and I have to look away from the men.