Chapter 11
Catherine Celia
I stepped off the elevator with swollen lips, weak knees, and the very disturbing realization that one kiss from Hunter Russell had somehow made me forget basic motor skills, including not smiling like an idiot in a public hallway.
I pressed the back of my hand to my mouth as I walked toward my parents’ apartment, which was stupid because it only made me think about his mouth more.
I was so screwed. I unlocked the door and slipped inside as quietly as possible.
Jaden was in the living room with a giant stuffed basketball shoved under one arm, telling Dad something about how he almost won a massive frog but the game was rigged.
Mom was standing near the kitchen island with a takeout bag, looking beautiful and tired and way too observant for my current situation.
All three of them turned when I walked in.
“Hey,” I said, aiming for casual and landing somewhere around guilty criminal.
Jaden lifted the stuffed basketball. “No dolphin.”
“Still impressive,” I said.
“It is very cool,” he agreed.
Dad looked over at me from the couch. “You eat?”
“Yes.”
Mom’s eyebrows lifted a fraction. I hated being raised by smart people.
“What did you eat?” she asked.
“Dinner at Taylor’s,” I said. “Chicken. Pasta. Vegetables.”
Dad nodded, satisfied.
Mom kept looking at me. Not satisfied. “Where’d you order from?”
My brain blanked for a millisecond. “Taylor cooked. I helped.”
Mom’s mouth twitched. “Are you feeling better at least?”
“Yes. Much better. I had a relaxing day. I slept in, stayed by the pool most of the day, and hung out with Taylor.” I pointed toward my room. “I’m going to wash my face and sleep.”
Dad’s eyes narrowed. “Why are you acting weird?”
“I’m not acting weird. This is me relaxed,” I muttered awkwardly.
Mom studied me for one more second. I held her gaze like a liar with a medical degree in progress.
Finally, she smiled. “Go rest.”
“Good night.”
I turned too quickly and almost tripped over the corner of the rug.
“Very rested,” Jaden called after me.
“Funny, I’m a klutz,” I called back.
I made it to my room, shut the door, and leaned back against it. Then I slid down until I was sitting on the floor. I touched my lips again. Still swollen and tingling. Still stupidly obsessed with Hunter Russell. My phone buzzed in my hand.
It was Hunter.
Hunter: Did you get back to the apartment okay?
Me: Yup. All good.
Hunter: Good. I’ll be thinking about that kiss.
My skin heated. It wasn’t fair.
Me: Me too.
A moment later, a text came in from Billie Rose.
Billie Rose: Are you alive or did the single dad captain murder your vagina with eye contact?
I stared at the text. Then I typed back before I could talk myself out of it.
Me: I kissed him. There was no vagina action… yet.
The phone rang immediately. I panicked and almost dropped it. Billie Rose treated gossip like an emergency medical event.
I answered and pressed the phone to my ear. “You cannot scream.”
“I’m screaming internally,” she hissed. “What do you mean you kissed him?”
“Exactly what it sounds like.”
“You better start from the beginning,” she urged with excitement.
“I can’t. My family is home, and these walls are not thick enough.”
“Did he kiss you back?” she asked, practically squealing.
I closed my eyes. My body answered before my mouth did. “Yes.”
Billie shrieked. “I knew it. I knew that man was hanging on by a sad little thread.”
“Billie,” I warned.
“Was there tongue? Hair grabbing? Wall contact?”
I went silent.
“Catherine Celia Davis,” she whispered dramatically. “There was wall contact.”
“I’m hanging up.”
“You’re not. We’re meeting for breakfast tomorrow,” she stated like there was no room to argue.
“I have things to do,” I said. Like work on my research.
“You have a man’s mouth to discuss. That outranks school work,” she replied.
I sighed and stared at my ceiling. “Fine. Breakfast.”
“Good. I’m texting the girls.”
“Don’t make it a thing. This has to stay secret, Billie. I’ve worked too hard to screw everything up.”
Her voice softened. “I know. I’m happy for you, boo. I’ve been worried about you these past few months. You were having a really hard time getting over Julian.”
“Correction. I’m over Julian. I’m just not over the cheating.”
“Right,” she sighed. “Well, kissing your dad’s captain was the right move.”
“It sounds terrible when you put it that way,” I groaned.
“You’re both consenting adults,” she reminded me.
“It’s a lot more complicated than that, and you know it. You shouldn’t be encouraging me. You should be reminding me why it’s a terrible idea.”
“Yeah… no. Tell me all the details.”
“Tomorrow at breakfast. Too risky,” I countered.
“Grr… I’m going to wonder all night. Those hockey boys are dreamy. I bet they know how to treat a vagina.”
“Billie, stop. I hate you.”
“No, you love me. Tomorrow. Ten thirty. Brunch. Wear something cute but not trying too hard because I know you’re going to pretend you’re chill,” she giggled.
“I am chill.”
“You kissed a forbidden hockey player and then sat on your bedroom floor to call me. You’re a lot of things. Chill is not one of them.”
She hung up before I could respond. I looked at my phone.
Then I looked at my door. How did she know I was on the floor?
She knew me too well. There was no way I was sleeping now.
Not with the memory of Hunter’s mouth still ghosting over mine.
I groaned and fell backward onto the rug.
This was not good. By the time I stopped fantasizing and scrolling through pictures of him online, I was exhausted enough to change into pajamas and fall asleep.