I Kissed The Boy Next Door by Suzanne D. Williams

Author:Suzanne D. Williams [Williams, Suzanne D.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781436301244
Published: 2013-04-09T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 10

Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.

Annoyed, I snaked my hand out from underneath the bed covers and slapped my phone on the night stand. Unfortunately, I hit the side of it and sent it skittering off into the floor. I heaved a sigh and dragged myself over the side of the mattress, blood rushing to my head. And found it had done what errant phones do and hid under the bed.

“Silly phone,” I said as I pulled it from the floor. Falling back onto the pillow, I brought the phone to my ear. “Hello?”

“You’re still sleeping?”

Jackson. I pushed my hair out of my face.

“What time is it?”

“Eleven.”

“Eleven!” I sat up quick and the blood that was formerly in my head rushed tingling down into my hands making me whoozy. “You didn’t wake me up.”

He laughed. “I figured I’d let you sleep in.”

Twisting myself into a sitting position, I gazed out my bedroom window toward his, but his room was empty.

“Where are you?” I asked.

“Out front, and guess what?”

“What?”

“I have the car today.”

The car. The Vette.

“Really?” I was doing a happy dance inside.

“Mmmhmm. You need to put on your suit and join me. I want to take you somewhere.”

My suit? Swimsuit. Go somewhere in the Vette. My sleep-crowned brain was fitting his words together.

“You coming or not?” he asked.

And it all clicked in place. “Five. Be there in five. Oh gees.” I heard him laughing again as I threw my phone down on the bed. I scrambled around the room yanking open drawers and tossing their contents in the floor. I hadn’t worn my swimsuit since last summer, so it had gotten buried.

I put shorts and a tank top on over it and dashed from the room, phone in hand, stopping on my way down the hall to grab a towel. I passed my brother in the living room.

“Where you going?” he asked.

“Out. Swimming. With Jackson.”

He shook his head, and I lost sight of him as I skipped out the front door. But there I skidded to a halt.

Legs. That’s all I’m saying. Jackson Phillips had the best pair of male legs. Tall, long muscular limbs that send my blood, now flowing properly through my body, all swishing to my face. He was leaning on the passenger-side door of the car, his hands behind him, in this pair of swim trunks with a bright blue-green tropical pattern.

“You gonna stand there or get in?” he asked.

I held up a finger. “I need a moment to soak in those shorts,” I said.

He chuckled, wagging his head back and forth, and just stood there waiting.

“Okay,” I said. “I can go now.” And crossing the lawn, I climbed in, and he fired the engine to life. The car tires crunched over the pavement as we started down the street.

“So, you and your dad are good?” I asked. I mean, they must be good if he could take the car.

He nodded. “For today.”

That seemed sad to me. For today. Like maybe tomorrow it’d be different. I never had to think like that about my mom.

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