It's in His Kiss by Caitie Quinn

Author:Caitie Quinn
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Romance
Publisher: CQuinn
Published: 2011-06-22T00:00:00+00:00

SIX

I stood there, not really sure what to do with my super-Lysoled patchwork shoes as Ben slid another pair toward Lisbeth. I’d never seen anyone accept rented footwear like they were some overpriced designer I wouldn’t own.

I guess there really was a first time for everything.

“Lane eleven, ladies.” Ben cocked his head toward the alleys, pointing toward the far lane, and gave me a little shove. As I turned to go, his size twelves swatted my bottom with a dull thud. “That’s the lightest part of the butt kicking I’m going to give you tonight.”

I really didn’t like him. I mean, good-looking and cocky go together so frequently it’s basically a cliché, but he brought it to a whole new level.

At lane eleven – which just happened to be my lucky number so I was feeling hopeful – I dropped onto the bench-seat thing next to Lisbeth. She was already pulling the little metal clasp thing off her new heart covered socks.

“He isn’t subtle, is he?” Lisbeth purred…yeah, she purred. “Little hearts. Very cute in a junior-high-check-yes-or-no kind of way, don’t you think?”

I would have answered her, I probably would have even told her what she wanted to hear, but my socks weren’t as easily parted. They were fastened together with one of those plastic things that looks like a question mark. Ripping them apart didn’t work, so I’d resorted to gnawing through the plastic stem.

“But,” she continued, smirking at the fuzzy yellow material hanging from my lips, the ankle pompoms bouncing about my chin. “What’s up with the bright yellow? Is he colorblind or something?”

The stem snapped and my teeth slammed together with an inner-ear shattering clank. He had literally driven me to gnashing my teeth. What did this say about him? Nothing good. He’d probably be the perfect match for Lisbeth.

I glanced over my shoulder, wondering what had happened to Ben and Dane. They were still at the counter talking to a guy in a white t-shirt with greased back hair. I had a little John Travolta flash, but then the music hit me. Okay, actually the hem of the poodle skirt of the girl who was roller skating by hit me. Either way, I glanced around suddenly afraid that we had been sucked into a fate even worse than Disco Bowling.

60’s Themed Disco Bowling.

Which, let’s stop and just consider the oddity of anything that has “60’s” and “Disco” in the same phrase…

Not needing any more mocking than strictly necessary, I covered my new yellow socks with those foot-slut shoes.

As the guys joined us, the music ended with a staticky click and the gates at the end of all the lanes dropped. Before I could look for the red emergency exit lights, Elvis’s I Can’t Help Falling In Love With You filled the silence, and a spotlight lit the end of our alley. The greased-back hair guy stood there, multi-color mod-skirt girls surrounding him with a swish of over starched crinoline.

Bowling Theater. Who would have guessed.

As I sat

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