Adorkable (13 page)

“She’s so much more than pretty,” he breathed, running his thumb along my cheekbone before giving me another below-the-ear kiss.

I was vaguely aware of Roxy stomping away but wasn’t sure of anything at the moment. Becks had done it again. His words were engraved in my mind. I would never forget what he said.

He was just acting, I reminded myself.

But he’d sounded sincere, my heart insisted. And that kiss…

Yeah, my brain responded, but it wasn’t real.

But it felt real.

Yeah, but it wasn’t.

This back and forth between heart and mind was so jarring; I felt completely off kilter.

“Why do you do that?” My voice was little more than a whisper.

He seemed to understand I was referring to the kiss.

“Because I can tell you like it.” He paused, an odd look to his face, while I held my breath. “And you have a birthmark—” He brushed the place with the tip of his finger. “—right here.”

Eyes wide, my hand flew up without my telling it to. “I do?”

He nodded. “You didn’t know?”

I shook my head.

My heart was set to burst when he grinned and added, “Plus, girls have told me it’s one of their favorite places to be kissed.”

I let out a shaky breath. Naturally, Becks had kissed other girls that way before. I was stupid to have thought it was something special, something he did just for me.

Stepping back to put a little space between us, I said, “Well, it’s very effective.”

“You okay, Sal?”

I forced myself to look him in the eye, burying my emotions down deep. “‘Course I am.”

He studied me a moment. “Alright then,” he said. “I’ll see you same time this Saturday?”

“What for?” I asked.

“Lesson two,” he smiled.

I gulped. “What’s lesson two?”

“It’s the next step in your training, Sally-san.” Becks laughed. “Just be there, okay?”

I wanted to tell him there was no need. We’d already won everyone over, but instead I nodded incapable of speech. Oh Lord, I wasn’t sure I was ready for lesson two. In fact, I knew I wasn’t, but as Becks sauntered down the hall, I also knew I’d do just about anything for another one of those kisses.

I was a total schmuck.

“What’d you call this again?” I gasped.

Becks lifted his head from my neck only an instant to mumble, “Nuzzling,” and then was back on the attack.

“Oh.”

If lesson one was hot, lesson two was freaking explosive. From this day forward I’d have to list nuzzling as one of my favorite pastimes. I was ready to burn up as Becks worked me over. His lips were hitting all the right spots, and whenever he found a particularly sensitive patch of skin, he’d mount a full-scale assault, kissing, nibbling, and stroking until I was a mushy heap of girl flesh at his mercy.

I think he knew it, too, because every time I gasped or stifled a moan, he’d double his efforts to make it happen again.

This was insane. I was insane for coming up with the F.B.F. idea, and Becks was insane for agreeing. It was impossible to separate my true emotions from the current situation. With every pass of his mouth, I became a little more his. Becks was already a part of me, but the reality of him was more than I’d ever hoped for. When a month’s time was up, I wasn’t sure I could go back to being just friends. I loved him so fiercely, had loved him before this, would continue to love him after. And all he’d ever feel for me was friendship.

This one, I thought sadly as Becks drew another gasp from my lips. This one could only end badly, and when it did, it was going to hurt.

A lot.

“How’s it going up—Oh my!”

Becks froze like a stone, arms anchored to my waist and back, lips attached to my throat, while I tried (and failed) to will myself invisible.

When I finally got the courage to glance up, Mrs. Kent was immobile, straddling the threshold of Becks’s room, one foot in one out, eyes staring at us on her son’s bed, mouth gaping in pure, unadulterated shock.

We were pieces on a chessboard, each waiting for someone to make the first move.

Clayton sauntered in, saw us, saw his mom, and smiled.

“Guess the jig is up, Bally.”

Mrs. Kent raised an eyebrow at that.

“Well,” Clayton explained, “I could’ve gone with ‘Secks,’ but considering the current situation—”

“Everyone downstairs,” Mrs. Kent ordered. “Time for a talk.”

It turned out “everyone” meant me, Becks and Mrs. Kent. Clayton had to get back to CHS for the JV game, but he assured us he’d rather have stayed and watched the real action. His wise-guy humor did nothing to lighten the mood. Mrs. Kent seemed to have taken a page out of my mom’s playbook. She was steely-eyed, pitched forward in her recliner as Becks and I sat side by side on the couch, but instead of finger-tapping, she sucked her teeth. It was a tossup which was worse.

“So you and Sally are a couple now,” she said after a particularly long suck, and I was glad she’d asked him, not me.

I’d already lied to one parent, but that had been about self-preservation. I wasn’t sure I could do it again, especially with the compromising position Mrs. Kent had found us in. Part of me wanted to deny it until I was blue in the face.
No way, Mrs. Kent. Your son’s a girl-magnet equipped to give nuzzling lessons. He’d never be interested in someone like me.
Another part wanted any denial to be a lie, but I was too smart for that.

“Yes,” Becks said.

“How long?” his mom volleyed back.

“Little over a week.”

I shouldn’t have been surprised. He’d demonstrated his acting chops from day one, but I’d never seen Becks lie to his mom. He did it with ease and confidence, like he did everything else. Even I almost believed him.

“And Sally—” Her eyes went to me, and I tried not to look too guilty. “—what were you two doing up there in Becks’s room?”

“Well,” I hesitated, unsure how to explain our lessons. “Well, Mrs. Kent…you see, we were just—”

“Doing what normal couples do,” Becks said smoothly.

“Watch it, mister,” Mrs. Kent warned. “You know you’re not allowed to have girls in your room.”

“Mom, Sal’s been coming to my room since we were seven.”

“Yes, but that was before…”she stuttered, searching for the right word. “Well,
before
.”

“I don’t see the difference.”

I gaped at him. Oh boy, he was just asking for it.

“You’re asking for it,” Mrs. Kent echoed my thoughts exactly. “Baldwin Eugene Charles Kent, what do you have to say for yourself?”

In the face of his mother’s accusing tone, Becks shrugged. “Sal and I have been friends a long time. It’s only natural for us to want to take it to the next level. I thought you’d be happy for us, Mom. Sal’s like a daughter to you, and here you are embarrassing her, trying to make her feel bad. To be completely honest, I’m a little disappointed in you.”

She blinked.

I waited.

Becks sat back and watched his Mom absorb everything, a faint look of disapproval on his face.

The guy was unbelievable. Mrs. Kent would never buy it.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” she said. Her face fell as she looked at me. “I adore you Sally, I do. It’s just finding you and Becks in his room…it took me by surprise.”

“Totally understandable,” I said.

“But I am so happy,” she said, a smile forming, “over the moon, really, that you and Becks are finally together. I didn’t mean to embarrass you, honey. I was trying to embarrass my son, but apparently he inherited his father’s shamelessness.”

“Talking about me again, dear?” Mr. Kent stepped into the room and dropped a kiss on his wife’s head. Clayton had more of his dad in him than his mom, but Becks was a perfect marriage of the two. As Mr. Kent looked at us, I saw a matching set of Becks’s eyes looking back at me. “Hi, Sally. I miss anything good?”

“Just Becks and his new girlfriend getting better acquainted in his bedroom,” Mrs. Kent said, which finally—
finally
—made Becks blush. I’d been red as I could be since before she’d discovered us, so her comment really had no effect on my coloring.

“Really?” Mr. Kent was all smiles. “Well, isn’t that something.” Mrs. Kent shot him a look, and he quickly amended, “I mean, Becks how dare you take our innocent Sally here up to your room. Do we need to have a talk about the correct way to treat a lady?”

Mrs. Kent nodded her approval, but said, “That won’t be necessary. The three of us already talked, and there will be no more hanging out in Becks’s room with the door closed. Isn’t that right you two?”

Becks and I nodded.

Guess this would be the end of our lessons. Too bad, I was looking forward to what lesson three might be.

As I was leaving, Mrs. Kent made sure to invite me and my mom to the Kent Family Cookout. It was late October; the last game of normal season play would be this week before they announced the area/region qualifiers. Chariot was sure to make the sectionals, and it was the perfect time to bring the family together, a two birds situation. They all got to eat great food and see Becks play (and most likely win).

I said I would come—what else could I do? Having three Kents, two with Becks’s persuasive eyes, staring back at me I couldn’t say no, didn’t want to.

But when Monday rolled around, I was rethinking my answer.

Again.

I’d changed my mind and changed it back too many times to count. The smart thing would be not to go. There’d be too many people, my mom, the Kents, Becks’s brothers. They knew me and Becks better than anyone. The cookout was a minefield. One slip, that’s all it would take. Mom had yet to see us together after the big announcement, and though Becks’s parents were on board now, none of them had watched the two of us together for any length of time. The odds of discovery had never been higher.

School was out today because of a state-wide teacher’s conference, so I couldn’t use German Club or having to stay after as my excuse to avoid the cookout. The library was closed for electrical repairs. My options weren’t looking good.

Cleaning the gutters was supposed to help clear my head. There were layers and layers of build up. I didn’t think they’d been cleaned once the entire twelve years we’d owned the place. Mom hadn’t done it. We hadn’t hired anyone. I sure as heck hadn’t climbed my butt up here to do it. But today, with the cookout fast approaching and no way out in sight, I’d needed something. The ladder I was using was a rusted out old heap that came with the house. I’d been at it nearly two hours; my mind was supposed to be a million miles away. The dirt and grime, the dead leaves, the pure grossness of the task should’ve diverted my attention...but it didn’t.

“Crap,” I said, suddenly dislodging a huge clump of gunk, “there’s nothing I can do.”

“Hey!”

The exclamation caught me by surprise, and I lost my footing. My arms were what saved me. They shot out completely on reflex, latched on to one of the gutters and didn’t let go. The ladder was long gone, laying somewhere in the grass below. The oversize workman’s gloves didn’t help me now. It was next to impossible to get a good grip.

“A little warning next time would be nice, Sal.”

Without looking I knew that voice.

“Becks,” I said calm as possible—which wasn’t calm at all. My hands were already slipping. “Could you get the ladder?”

“So you can what,” he scoffed, “pull a Catwoman and spring onto the thing? Sal, just drop. I’ll catch you.”

I vigorously shook my head.

“Just get the ladder, please.”

“Sal, I’m standing right beneath you. I’ll catch you.”

“No, you won’t.”

“Yes, I—God, Sal, stop being so stubborn and just drop.”

I whimpered, fingers slipping another inch.

“I’ll catch you. I promise.”

“You better,” I said then let go.

I couldn’t control my girlish shriek, but Becks made no sound as I fell gracelessly into his arms. He caught me like he did this every day, as if girls dangling from rain gutters were his specialty. Who knew? Maybe they were.

Raising my head, I asked, “Have you done this before?”

“Never,” he said, eyes smiling.

“You sure?”

“Positive.” He gave me a pointed look. “But you know, unlike some people, when I say I’ll catch someone, I actually do it.”

I sighed. Of course, he would bring
that
up. “You’re never going to let it go, are you?”

“Nope,” he said and readjusted his hold. Surprised, I gripped his neck with both hands. “Some things are hard to forget.”

“I said I was sorry about a million times.”

“I know.”

“And I was the one who got hurt, not you.”

“I know, Sal.”

“Then why do you always bring it up?” I muttered.

“Best day of my life.” Becks shrugged, jostling me again, and I narrowed my eyes. Of all the times I’d asked him that exact question, he never gave a straight answer.

Mom came out of the house toting five food trays and smiled when she saw us.

“Hi, Becks,” she said, as I scrambled to my feet, cheeks flaming. “Dare I ask?”

“Hey there, Mrs. Nicholls.” He grinned. “I walked up and saw Sal stuck, hanging from one of the gutters. Naturally, I saved the day.”

I cut him a glance. Nice how he forgot to mention he was the reason I’d been stuck in the first place.

“Sounds like history repeating itself,” Mom said.

“Yeah,” he replied, “except no one got injured this time.”

I rolled my eyes. “It was second grade. You were bigger than me. What’d you expect?”

Becks raised a brow. “You
said
you’d catch me.”

“Whatever, I didn’t see anyone else volunteering.” I’d tried to save him, too. I just hadn’t been as successful. “If I hadn’t come along and talked you down, you might’ve been trapped on those monkey bars for hours.”

“You said—”

“
And
,” I added, “I ended up with a broken arm after you nearly squashed me.”

“You know I’ve always felt bad about that,” Becks mumbled.

“Well, there you go,” I nodded. “I’ve always felt bad about breaking your fall instead of catching you like I said I would. We’re even.”