Stuck With You (First Kiss Hypothesis) Page 5

  Meantime, this girl, Danae, waves to some people and tries to introduce me, but she can’t remember my name. I don’t care—she’s definitely drunk, and it’s not long before I let go of her hand and make myself scarce. I’m sure she doesn’t even notice.

  Before I climb the steps to the upper deck, I check out the skeleton of supports that are holding this place up. It’s always been an interest of mine, the engineering involved in building a structure like this. Back when I was a kid and Hurricane Ike destroyed our home, I figured there was no fighting storms like that. They’re always gonna win, right? But then we rebuilt stronger, and supposedly the new house will stand, though we haven’t had massive winds and storm surge since then, so we’ll see.

  The house we’re at now is huge and has a massive underlying support system. It’s impressive. I wonder how much of a storm surge this house could take before buckling. I wonder how much concrete is holding up these columns. I wonder if our house would fall before this one.

  The area under the house has four scattered picnic tables and a full-on tiki bar off to the side with a keg right beside it and a sleeve of red plastic cups just waiting to be filled. I grab one, pump the keg a few times, and let it go until the cup’s about half full.

  Here’s my secret: I’m not a big drinker. I make a point of always having a cup in my hand at one of these things that I sip on once in a while and leave it at that. It keeps people from constantly asking me if I need a refill, and I get to keep control.

  It won’t be hard to do tonight—this beer is crap.

  Now that I’m armed with a beverage, I know I need to go find the girls, or at least get eyes on them. I have no idea what kind of trouble Catie Dixon is capable of getting in these days, but given her claiming to need some “time to think” and buying alcohol at Swede’s—I assume with a fake ID—it seems like the trouble could be substantial. None of that seems like her. She’s the one who always has it all figured out, but whatever she does this week, it’s not really my problem. Unless she actually does get into trouble, and then I’ll be dead. Catie’s mom will murder me in cold blood if something happens to that girl.

  With my survival at stake, I head out to the sand and, from the top of a dune, find the girls. They’re near the fire with our fraternity friends from Swede’s. I was expecting that. What I wasn’t expecting was to see Catie dancing with one of them to this slow, grind-y song. I’m also not expecting the surge of adrenaline that ignites inside of me.

  Without thinking, I push my way through the crowd, trying to keep sight of her, though it’s not easy. She’s barely five foot two, and I’m guessing she took off the ridiculous heels she was wearing.

  “Hey, wanna dance?” asks a girl who appears beside me. She’s only wearing a string bikini, and she looks like a model.

  I blink. The slow song is still playing. I could be grinding, too, with this beautiful girl, but that adrenaline is still pushing me, involuntarily, to Catie.

  I glance over my new friend’s shoulder. “Aw, no thank you,” I say, wondering what the hell is wrong with me. “I’m here with someone.” I point vaguely into the distance. “But you have a nice evening…”

  She pouts and lifts a hand. “You, too.”

  I move on. Shit. I can’t see her anymore. I do notice Sunny and Ainsley about to take red cups from one of college boys.

  What are they, stupid?

  “Hey.” I join them just as he hands them the drinks. I look into his face, into his unfocused eyes, to determine what kind of drunk guy I’m working with here. My guess is very. “That was real nice of you, man, but they can’t take drinks they haven’t had eyes on. You know what I mean?”

  I glance at Ainsley and Sunny and sear them with my gaze. “You just can’t these days. Am I right?”

  The fella shrugs. “Uh. Yeah. I guess.”

  “Yeah.” I smile at him and stick out my hand. “Hey, Caleb’s the name.”

  He takes a sip of one of the beers. I know I’ve confused him, thrown him off his game. It’s easy to do when someone’s as wasted as he is. He puts the other beer down in the sand, takes my hand and shakes it. “Seth,” he says. “You go to UT?”

  “Nah.” I scan the crowd for Catie again, feeling more on edge because I still can’t see her. I pivot to the girls and turn my back on this asshat, hoping he’ll take the hint that we’re done here. “Where’s Catie?” I ask them.

  “She’s dancing.” Sunny frowns. “Just so you know, Caleb, we weren’t gonna drink those. We’re not stupid.”

  “No, I know that.” I smile and watch as her anger diffuses. Now, where is Catie?

  There she is. In the center of the dancing crowd. This person, this stranger, has his hands on her backside, and her skirt is riding up too high. Oh hell no.

  “Excuse me,” I say to the girls.

  I push my way toward Catie on feet that seem to be moving themselves. There’s something driving me, that has always driven me, when it comes to her. She annoys me like no other, and yet, no one better annoy her. I can’t explain it, but I can’t fight it, either.

  I tap his back. He’s tall—taller than me—but I could take him. I’m not 100 percent sure what my play is here. I’m just making it up as I go along.

  “Hey!” I shout over the loud music. He ignores me. “Hey!”

  He glances back. “Yeah?” He’s not wearing a shirt, and he’s ripped. He’s probably considered good looking, and maybe he’s even a decent human. But that’s too bad—he needs to move his hands.

  “Hey, Catie?” Now it’s my turn to ignore him. I stare into my long time frenemy’s confused eyes and smile. “Let’s dance!”

  “What?” Her nose scrunches up. It’s clear she thinks I have lost my mind. Maybe I have.

  “Yeah.” I play it off like I ask her to dance all the time. “Come on!”

  I manage to wedge myself between her and him, reach down and take her hand and lead her deeper into the crowd. When I turn back to her, she’s scowling.

  “What is wrong with you?” she yells and lets go of my hand.

  I breathe in and out. It’s loud here. “Nothing!” I yell. “I want to dance. Okay?”

  She narrows her eyes and tilts her head. I recognize that look—she’s trying to read my mind. Don’t do it, I send the message. You won’t understand it, because I don’t—not at all.

  A new song starts, “Up in Here,” that makes the people around us go nuts, and Catie and I are pushed together. It’s tight, and we’re closer than we’ve ever been. Also, it’s impossible not to move to the rhythm of this song.

  Suddenly, we’re dancing. Together. She still stares at me like I’ve lost it.

  “I was fine, you know,” she shouts near my ear as we move to the music.

  I nod. “I know.”

  “Are you drunk?” she yells.

  “No!” I shout over the noise. “Are you?”

  She stares. “No, I am not.”

  On the edge of the crowd, I see the guy she was just dancing with and hope he’s not planning on getting her back. The song begins to fade out and another one starts up. I don’t recognize it, but it’s slower and definitely the kind of song that leads couples to do other things. Naked things.

  Obviously, I don’t want other things with Catie Dixon, but I also don’t want her to go back to that guy and do them.

  As the new song starts, she steps back and half smiles then leans forward. “You’re weird, Caleb. Thanks for the dance,” she says into my ear in just the right—or wrong—spot, depending how you’re looking at it, that makes all the nerve endings in my body spring to life. She thrusts a thumb over her shoulder. “See you later.”

  “Wait, wait,” I say, and for the second time tonight, I take her hand. When I grasp it, she looks down at where we’re joined, then back at me. “One more?” I say, desperate.

  There are couples all around us, swaying to the beat of this song. She bites her bottom lip, and I can see her thinking this through. “No.” She looks b
ack over her shoulder. “I’m kind of in the middle of something.”

  “The middle of something?” I shake my head, every so often lifting my gaze to keep my eyes on the buffoon, who is still searching the crowd for her. “What, with your new friend?”

  “Yes!” she says. “Now let go of me.”

  I let go, though it’s not lost on me that she could have easily already pulled her hand out of mine, too.

  “Wait,” I say. “First of all,” I move closer to her ear. “That guy wants one thing from you, and it is not to be your friend.”

  “What?” She laughs and narrows her gaze. “Are you jealous of Sterling?”

  “Jealous? What?” I chuckle and shake my head. “Uh, no. And what kind of name is Sterling?”

  She purses those full lips and turns them up in a grin.

  “I think it’s nice. Also, here’s a thought. Did you ever think maybe I only want one thing from him? Huh? Ever cross your mind?” She simpers like she’s the queen of the whole damn world. “I bet it didn’t. You know why? Because you are sexist, Caleb.”

  My eyes scan the couples around us, all of them letting go and having fun. “I am not.”

  Her smile grows bigger, and I have no idea why, but that smile is doing things to me, dangerous things, that are freaking me out.

  “That’s what they all say,” she says. Then she looks into my eyes, and I stare deep into hers, and I can see the moment she decides to stay. Something flickers in her pupils, and she seems to relax. “One more dance,” she says, breathless in my ear. Or maybe it’s me who is breathless. I can’t really tell.

  She keeps moving, and I follow suit. I try not to think too hard about what is happening to me right now. The last time I danced was at my prom a few months back. I went dateless, with a group of friends, but I managed to dance all night with a variety of girls. I barely knew any of them, but it was fun.

  This is different. I can’t quite explain it except that it’s Catie Dixon, and I shouldn’t be enjoying dancing with the girl who has gotten on my nerves for the better part of the last decade. But…I am. I am enjoying this, very much.

  I’m very aware that what I’m doing, what we are doing, is not doing anything to clear my head, but I’m not gonna think about that right now.

  As the song continues, she moves a hand up around my neck. I flinch, like an idiot.

  She laughs, messing with me, maybe? Then she shakes her head and puts the other hand up there. I’m tempted to put my arms around her waist, but I can’t seem to make that happen.

  “This isn’t dancing, Caleb,” she says. “Come on. Are you scared of me?”

  This is so damn weird. Most of the dancers surrounding us seem to be practically already having sex. I catch sight of Sterling, still lying in wait on the sidelines, waiting to come back into the game. This time he sees me, and then sees her, and that’s all I need to make me do it. I put my arms around her and pull her closer so there’s no question in his mind the message I’m sending. She is not yours.

  Of course, she’s not mine, either.

  “No,” I finally answer her. “I am not scared of you, Catie.”

  I don’t think that’s exactly true.

  She clears her throat and sticks out that chin. “Well, I’m not sure I believe that, but I just want you to know that I don’t need you to watch out for me. I don’t care what Mama thinks. I am an intelligent female, and I have complete situational awareness. I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”

  “I know you are,” I say, totally distracted. Dammit. I see Sterling is on his way toward us. Luckily, he must be good and drunk, because he isn’t moving very fast. I just need to think faster. “Remember when we were Cay-Cay?” I blurt out then inwardly cringe. Both at the stupid nickname our parents called us when we were kids and the fact that it came out of my mouth in the first place. Smooth, Gray.

  It does the job, though. “I can’t believe they actually shipped us when we were toddlers.” She winces but then smiles again, a nice smile with her lips curved up and that dimple on her cheek. I’d forgotten about that dimple. “So disturbing,” she says.

  I shake my head. “Just a little bit.”

  “You know somethin’?” she says.

  “What?” Shit. Sterling is closing in. We don’t have much time.

  Her smile disappears, and the eyes narrow again. “This nice guy act isn’t gonna work on me, Caleb.”

  She’s too much. I am a nice guy, saving her from spending time with that meathead college boy, and you’re welcome, Catie.

  “Aw. Here I was thinking that I had you fooled.”

  She shakes her head. “Oh no. You are not nice. You haven’t been nice to me since we were little.”

  I keep my mouth shut. I guess she’s right, although I dare anyone who had this girl nipping on their heels since she was born to have behaved differently. Not just any girl, but a girl who always thought she knew what I should be doing, what I was thinking, and what I was feeling.

  But she’s right. There were plenty of times back home when she’d come up to me in school, nagging at me about something or other, and I’d outright ignored her. I’m not proud of that. It wasn’t nice, but in my stupid brain, it was what had to be done. It didn’t help that our parents were always forcing us to spend time together, acting like we were somehow destined for each other.

  Like she just said, they shipped us as infants, for God’s sake.

  So she’s right. I never tried very hard to spare her feelings. I have been mean.

  “Well.” I lean close to her ear, so she can hear me over the music. “I’m sorry.”

  She leans back, searches my face, stares into my eyes. She looks doubtful.

  “I mean it,” I say, and I do. A glance behind her tells me our boy is still on his way, though it looks like he’s gotten sidetracked by some friends.

  I’m glad, because even though she doesn’t respond to my apology, she relaxes into me. Her body is compact and warm in my arms, and leaning down to her ear these last few minutes, I can’t help but notice the way she smells—a mix of residual coconutty sunscreen and her shampoo and perfume, and I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t having an effect on me. Her long eyelashes flutter up and down, landing on her cheek, and I notice for the first time how all of the parts of her face have fused together nicely over the years. Even the freckles on her nose are undeniably cute.

  I force myself to breathe. I’m crazy to even be thinking like this, but when the song ends and she lifts her eyes to mine, something happens, inside of me, like I’m waking up from a long, deep sleep. Its jarring…and I’m confused. And yeah, now I am most definitely scared of Catie Dixon. Maybe even terrified.

  “All right, then,” she says. “I accept your apology.”

  Sterling is nearly upon us, which maybe is a good thing.

  “Does this mean we’re friends again?” I ask.

  She shrugs. “I suppose we can try.”

  “Good.” I’m staring at her lips again, which curve up into a sly smile. Holy God, I just wondered what it would be like to kiss them. I avert my gaze, immediately. The song comes to an end, and she releases her hold on my neck, and then he’s there, tapping her on the shoulder. I’m sort of relieved, but also, I hate this guy.

  I start to walk away, but when I turn to look back at them, she’s watching me. Is it me, or does she look sad?

  Then something happens. The next song starts, and someone’s got a firm grasp on my upper arm. I spin around to see who is touching me as Kayne starts singing about a gold digger.

  “Hey, Caleb Gray!” Ainsley laughs and tightens her grasp on me. “Where do you think you’re going?” She pulls me back to where Catie is moving to the music like she does it for a living. Girl can move.

  Ainsley and now Sunny, who popped up out of nowhere, have managed to push Sterling—sad, rhythmless fool—out of their circle. All of a sudden I like these girls a whole lot better.

  “Come on, Caleb!” Sunny yells, tak
ing my hand and pulling me to dance with them. “We got rules, too—first one is, we stick together.”

  I’m not gonna say no. We stay out there, through this song and then “Yeah!” and then “Low” and it hits me—I’m not thinking about college, or lacrosse, or any of it, and I wish I could stay here forever.

  We do stay out there for probably way too long. My calves are gonna kill in the morning, dancing on the sand. It’s okay, though. Seems like it might be worth it.

  “Oh my God,” Ainsley shouts when we finally head back to the truck. “Caleb, you can dance, boy!”

  I have no idea what time it is, and I’m exhausted, but in a good way.

  “Ainsley! Holy shit, you don’t have to yell!” Sunny actually yells this louder than Ainsley. I laugh out loud and shake my head. We did take a few breaks from the dancing. The girls have had a few beers that, yes, they poured themselves. They’re slightly altered, but not trashed. Catie had some, too, but it seems like she’s definitely in a more mellow frame of mind. Which is why I’m glad she’s sitting next to me in the front seat. I’m trying to convince myself that’s the only reason I’m glad, but I did have a good time with her tonight.

  I’m going to try and forget the dance that we shared and chalk whatever lusty feeling I might have experienced up to our close, sweaty bodies and the slow, rhythmic beat. She’s Catie Dixon, for God’s sake. What else could it have been?

  Chapter Six

  Catie

  I fasten my seat belt and place my hands on my thighs, trying to still them. I had a few beers, and I’m feeling a little shaky, but not from the alcohol. I’m stone-cold sober, but I have no idea what that was back on that sandy dance floor.

  At first everything seemed fine. He asked me to dance, and I figured it was just him following my mama’s orders, to protect poor little old me from a big bad male, but when we were dancing, something changed. I started to get that zingy feeling I used to feel whenever he was around, which means I should have hightailed it out of there—but I didn’t.