Stuck With You (First Kiss Hypothesis) Read online

  Tonight, we all planned to try harder because, first of all, we’re seniors now, and next year everything will change. And second, Ainsley claims these college guys will be worth it. I’m the first to admit the guys in high school are getting old. Maybe she’s right. We should give them a chance.

  Our only obstacle is Warden Caleb.

  I was going to be honest with him and tell him our plans, in accordance with his rules, out on the deck when he got back from the walk. Then he sauntered over, shirt off and board shorts hanging low.

  All planned conversation left my brain. All I got out of him was that he would have no trouble staying away from me this week.

  I mean, the feeling is totally mutual, but he didn’t have to say it so ugly. He’s survived worse?

  Whatever.

  As the girls primp, I sit down solidly on the toilet lid, wondering if I even want to go out. I’m tired from the drive out and the afternoon in the sun, and also my brain hurts. Between my college questions and now Caleb being here, I’m about ready to just spend the night under the covers reading.

  Ainsley is applying mascara. “You okay?”

  I lean forward, elbows on my knees. “Sure. I guess.”

  “Did you talk to him?” Sunny asks.

  “Yeah,” I answer.

  “How is he?”

  “He’s the same.” I stand up and check my face in the mirror. There are new freckles coming out on my nose. The funny thing is he isn’t the same, not completely. I don’t know if it’s the fact that he wanted to come here alone for a whole week (in the past, Caleb has been the complete opposite of a loner) or if it’s the scruff on his face and his grown-out hair—he looks different, and he is acting different.

  I keep my musings to myself. “It’s just weird to see him. I’ve barely even thought about him since they moved.” That is mostly true. On the rare occasion that he does cross my mind, it’s usually the memory of the last time I saw him the night of the company’s Christmas party in December. The party itself is ridiculous, but a tradition. We all dress up, and tons of people come, and my father and Caleb’s dad reveal their latest homemade beer creation—they’re wannabe brewers—and the moms cook for days, and there’s always karaoke and poker and cornhole in the backyard and a raging bonfire.

  Anyway, this year Caleb showed up, hair freshly cut, in a pressed button-down shirt with a tartan-plaid bow tie. I wouldn’t say I have a type, but I am a girl who responds to a slightly nerdy-looking, sharp-dressed man. I happened to be at the top of the stairs when he came in the front door. He looked up, and I swear it was like I was seeing him for the first time. In that moment, I didn’t think of our rocky history. I was simply bowled over by how Caleb, the little boy I grew up with, was now a man—full grown and—I don’t mean to be dramatic—devastatingly handsome.

  Then, he smiled at me. Just like the Little Drummer Boy in the Christmas carol that someone at that very same time was karaoke-ing in the family room, my heart pa-rum-pum-pum-pum’ed so hard I about fell down the stairs. Until a group of girls from school excused themselves past me so they could walk downstairs, all of them admiring Caleb Gray, who was waiting for them with that giant, hypnotic smile of his.

  He hadn’t been smiling at me.

  Almost immediately, he got sucked into the party, where a handful of his hockey friends and random beautiful senior girls were mingling, and I hung out with my own group of friends, and that was the end of that.

  A few weeks later, he moved away without even saying goodbye.

  Ainsley interrupts my thoughts, and I’m glad. “I don’t know,” she says.

  “What don’t you know?” I ask.

  “I think y’all have chemistry.”

  I gently touch an emerging pimple on my chin and groan. “Ainsley. The only thing we have are parents who own a business and a beach house together.”

  She smiles. “Whatever you say, but I can see it—you two, together, laying floors, side by side. It’s got romantic potential, for real.”

  I back away from the mirror and stare at her. “Ainsley St. Clair, laying flooring is the least romantic thing on the planet. Trust me. You might think Caleb is hot, but I’ve known him my whole life. He’s not as perfect as he seems. So believe me when I say there is no chemistry, no nothing between me and Caleb Gray.”

  Less than nothing, actually. Like just now, when he sat down next to me out on the deck, he didn’t bat an eye, and I was mostly naked. I mean, I know he doesn’t like me, but he’s a male, and in general straight males will look if it’s right there. And it was. I was laid out in front of him like the Sunday buffet at the Lazy Longhorn Diner back home. Why wasn’t he looking at me? And that leads to the bigger question—why do I still want him to?

  Ainsley spritzes herself with a good amount of perfume that makes all three of us cough. “You know what I think, Catie?” she asks when she’s done fumigating us. “I think you’re full of it. There’s something going on between you two. Plus, I mean, he was super hot before, but if you haven’t noticed, that situation has only improved with time. If I were you—”

  “You’re not me, Ains.” I stop her dead and look to Sunny for support. She’s watching me with her big eyes and lips that are smushed together like she’s trying to hold her tongue. I’m sending her a mental message, reminding her that my unrequited crush for Caleb is long over. Done.

  This conversation has got to end. Now.

  “Listen. I’m not blind. I know he’s hot, but that’s just optics. There will never be anything romantic between me and Caleb Gray, and oh my God, there are college men out there waiting for us. So, hush up, and let’s go.”

  As these words come out of my mouth, Caleb calls Mo, who is of course at my feet. He sounds close. My mouth clamps shut, while Mo looks up at me, totally conflicted.

  “Shit,” I whisper. I hope to God that Caleb didn’t hear any of what I just said.

  “Hey!” he shouts, his deep voice carrying through the bedroom. “My dog in there?”

  “You stay right here, boy,” I say to Mo and pass him one of the treats I pocketed from the kitchen. “He’s fine,” I call. “I guess he likes high school kids better than college boys.”

  Caleb doesn’t respond, but a few seconds later, we hear what I assume is his bedroom door slam, and we all die with laughter. His presence here might be messing with my mind, but I’m not shy about messing with him, too.

  Mo drops to his side, begging for a belly rub. Such a good boy.

  A half hour later, we’re ready to go out. I’m no longer thinking of hanging back, having gotten a second wind. Honestly, the last thing I want to do is be stuck in the house with Caleb. It’s true what I said to Ainsley. I’ve known him forever. I know he’s not as perfect as everyone thinks.

  Plus, my girls and I have plans.

  Ainsley’s been texting one of the guys, Josh, that she met at summer camp in middle school. He’s from Alabama and goes to UT and just happens to be renting a place not far away with his friends. The party in question is a few miles down the beach at one of the bigger houses. It’s too far to walk and too far for the golf cart. We need to take the car.

  Sunny nudges me as we put on our shoes and grab our phones and wallets. “You need to tell him.”

  “No. Do not tell him. He’s gonna say no,” Ainsley argues, adjusting her low-cut tank top that leaves little to the imagination. “Let’s just go,” she begs.

  “No!” Sunny says. “He said that we have to tell him where we go. If we don’t, he’ll tell our parents. And my mother will kill me if she finds out we’re here alone. Hell, she’ll kill me if she knows I’m staying here with him.” Sunny’s eyes blaze.

  I sigh and think of that quote from Macbeth about the tangled web we weave. Shakespeare was a genius, and he really knew teenagers.

  Here’s the current situation: Sunny’s parents do think she’s here at the beach house, but she told them my parents were here, too. My parents thought I was going to their lake house with
her parents, while her parents are actually at a wedding this weekend in New York. Never mind that our mothers, at least, will definitely see each other around town after this weekend (Lockhart is not that big), and there’s a good chance we’ll both probably get found out eventually. Now we’re ready to go hang out with people we don’t even know. This whole trip was a risky endeavor.

  Ainsley still somehow managed to talk us into it.

  “Catie, we’re definitely telling him,” Sunny says, not letting me off the hook. “And by ‘we’ I mean you.”

  I huff and roll my eyes. “Fine, we said we’d tell him. We’ll tell him. Those were his rules. It’s not like he can forbid us to go.”

  I march down the hall toward his room, which is usually his parents’ room when we all stay. I’m feeling confident in my argument. I knock on the door with Mo still at my side. He lets out a sharp bark.

  A few seconds later, the door swings open, and there is Caleb, filling up the doorframe, still without the shirt.

  My brain turns to goo at the sight of him. I am unable to think…or move.

  Avert your eyes, Catherine. I force myself to do this, and it helps, a little. But oh God, this is unfair. That body is glorious.

  “Uh…” Oh my sweet Lord. I’m having a stroke. “We—we’re—”

  Mo barks.

  “What?” Caleb says. “You decide you want me again? You think it’s gonna be that easy?”

  “Huh?” I lift my eyes but he’s not looking at me. Oh, right. He’s talking to the dog. Mo runs into the bedroom and jumps on the big bed.

  I mentally slap myself. Get it together, Dixon.

  He crosses his arms, and his biceps bulge. “Thanks for returning my dog,” he says.

  “I can’t help it if he likes me better,” I manage to say without tripping over my words. Good, good. A sarcastic comeback is a good sign I’m recovering.

  Then I catch his eyes as they roam up and down my body, and he scowls.

  “What are you wearing?” He leans forward and glances down the hall, where Ainsley and Sunny stand with hopeful looks on their faces. I see his eyes bulge when they land on Ainsley’s tank top.

  “What’s goin’ on here?” He lifts an arm and leans on the doorframe, a classic McConaughey stance, smooth and in control.

  I pause a beat, trying to control my own mad heart rate. I clear my throat. “As per your rules, we are here, telling you that we are going out, to a bonfire, in The Grove. We’ll be back in a few hours.”

  He straightens up, hands moving to his waist. “No, you won’t.”

  I knew it. I breathe in deep and try to keep my voice in its normal range. “Yes, we will,” I say, slow and measured and extremely in control.

  He doesn’t even blink. “No, you won’t.”

  I cross my arms now, too, and any lustful yearnings I might have had to jump the hot body in front of me evaporate like rain on a summer day.

  “Caleb. You promised to stay out of our way if we stay out of yours. The rule was that we have to tell you where we’re going. We are doing that. Good night.”

  I turn and march away—the girls stare at me—Sunny looking worried, Ainsley looking amused.

  “Y’all have been drinking,” he calls to my back, still with that infuriating coolness in his voice.

  I swing around on him. “I had one wine cooler. I am fine.”

  He steps out of the doorway. “Nope. You’re not driving down there. I’ll go, too.”

  I hold up my hand. “Wait. You deciding that you get to come along was not part of the deal.”

  “Then I’m amending the deal.” He disappears into his room and comes out seconds later with a T-shirt in his hand, which he pulls over his head in one smooth motion.

  He yanks his keys out of his pocket, adjusts the T-shirt, and strides past me. “I’ll drive.”

  We watch, frozen in place, as he makes his way past us to the top of the deck stairs. Sunny is shaking her head like she knows this whole weekend getaway is doomed. Ainsley chuckles and points at me. “He so likes you,” she mouths the words, and I frown back at her.

  “Come on, y’all, let’s git,” Caleb calls back inside, like we’re a herd of cattle, which we are most certainly not.

  When I reach the door, Sunny stops me. “I’ve got a bad feeling about this,” she says, and makes her way out onto the deck.

  Ainsley follows her. “That boy is so fine,” she says to me.

  I shake my head and roll my eyes as I reassure Mo that we’ll be back soon. I lock the door and stare out at the dark Gulf, then I remember the potted plant that our mothers put here years ago. I bend over and flush the flusher from the original house. In with the good, flush out the bad. I hope it brings me luck. I’m gonna need it if my head and my heart are going to survive this week.

  Chapter Five

  Caleb

  Aw hell no. That’s what I thought when I saw the girls ready to head out. I know it’s a free country. I believe in women’s rights and equality and all of it. My mom made sure of that. Women are independent and capable and smart and can wear whatever they want and can take care of themselves. I believe it all, but I also promised Aunt Kathy that I’d watch out for Catie, and so I’m gonna keep that promise.

  I know I’ve harshed their buzzes, but they’re all surprisingly quiet for the time it takes to get to my truck. As Sunny opens the door behind mine, she gives me that worried smile.

  “You promised you wouldn’t say anything,” she reminds me, her eyebrows pulling together again, creating a giant crease in her forehead, “if we followed your rules.”

  “Sunny.” I feel the need to comfort her. “I’m just goin’ with you. That’s all.”

  Ainsley jumps into the backseat on the passenger side, and I catch Catie glaring at her. Doesn’t want to sit up front with me, and I’m not surprised, but now she doesn’t have a choice. She closes herself into the cab next to me and adjusts her top, a mustard-yellow midriff thing and a button-down jeans skirt that is showing a lot of thigh. Her hair is down, the same dirty-blond color that hasn’t changed since we were kids. I consider saying nothing, but I feel bad for the way the conversation went out on the deck. She doesn’t think I like her, and I didn’t exactly deny that. “You look nice.” I nod toward her, then look in the rearview mirror. “You all do.”

  “Thanks,” says Ainsley.

  “Thank you!” That was Sunny.

  “Uh huh,” Catie grumbles next to me like she doesn’t believe me. “I don’t understand why you’re coming with us,” she says. “This is a small bonfire. You won’t know any of the people.”

  I grip the steering wheel, trying to keep my eyes off her thighs. “I like meeting new people,” I say.

  She groans. “Does this thing have an on switch?”

  I turn the key and my Bluetooth kicks on. It’s a song from my playlist called “Migraine” by Twenty One Pilots.

  This could very well end up being the soundtrack for the entire week.

  “Oh, I love this song,” Ainsley says from the back. “Turn it up!”

  I can tell Catie’s squirming—she likes country music and that is all. Our tastes in music (or her lack of it) is only the tip of the iceberg of the things that make us complete opposites.

  Ainsley sings along with the lyrics all the way down to The Grove, which is hands down where the money is. These are giant houses—the biggest on Bolivar—way bigger than ours, and most of them brand new.

  I don’t have to ask where to go; it’s clear from the stream of people heading toward the big house in the distance like they’re aliens and it’s the mothership. Small bonfire, my ass. We end up parking a good quarter mile away.

  I put the truck in park and suddenly wish for a pair of earplugs. These girls aren’t quiet anymore. Ainsley’s doubting her outfit. Sunny is hugging my seat, and as a result, her knees are stuck in my lower back. Catie’s finally talking again. Not to me, of course. She’s totally ignoring me. I think of the other girls who have sat where�
�s she’s sitting now. Girls who actually liked me—considered me a nice guy, found me charming, thought I was a catch. Now Catie’s here, who thinks none of those things. Not that I want her to. Still, I’m not gonna let her go into this party without at least someone having her back, because whether she thinks it or not, I am a nice guy.

  Sunny and Ainsley get out, but when Catie opens her door, she turns back to me. “Separate orbits, remember?”

  “Whatever you say.”

  When I hop out onto the road, I run right into a girl.

  “Hey, watch out!” she laughs and pushes off of me. Her friends laugh, too. They keep walking, but she stops. Tall with platinum-blond hair and a killer smile. I am not in the headspace to flirt right now, and that’s because of Catie. I can admit that. But it doesn’t take me long to recover. I smile back.

  “Hey, I’m sorry. Wasn’t paying attention.”

  “All right, you have fun now, Caleb,” Catie calls back over the hood of the truck. “We’ll see you later. Come on, ladies.” She summons her posse and turns her nose up at me.

  “Don’t worry about me,” I answer, not taking my eyes off the beautiful girl.

  “Hope you don’t get roofied!” Catie shouts back over her shoulder.

  “Who’s that?” the girl asks me.

  “She’s drunk,” I say. “I’m Caleb.”

  “Danae,” she says. “That’s me. Are you here to go to the party?”

  I don’t know where else I’d be going. “I am.”

  “Good. Let’s go.” She takes my hand and laughs at nothing, pulling me down the road. I’m not hopeful about the two of us. If she’s not wasted, she’s definitely working her way there, and I’m not the guy who is gonna go after a drunk girl. There’s plenty who will, though, which makes me worry again about Catie and her friends, who are well ahead of me. I’m able to keep them in my sights until they are under the house and get sucked into the big crowd.