Authors: Lori Adams

Forbidden (54 page)

“Kayla?”

I shake my head and try to concentrate on getting the ball to him. But that’s hard. Especially since he’s so droolable.

Pulling my arm back, I take in a huge lungful of air. Maybe he’ll see my amazing throw and fall smack into the ground in love with me. He’ll drop the football at my feet and kneel in front of me, professing he knew all along he should’ve been with me and not my best friend. And Reagan won’t be mad. She’ll say she won’t stand in the way of soul mates. And love will conquer all!

I chuck the ball forward. It does this funky wobble-type thing and lands about five feet shy of Talon and about a million feet to the right.

I guess love will conquer another day.

A laugh echoes through the stadium. I’m about to yell at the yahoo to leave me the hell alone because I’m a freaking beginner, but it’s Reagan. And her laughter isn’t directed at me. It’s directed at Wesley. He’s got his guitar out and he’s tossing his head around like he’s in one of those scary hair bands—even though he doesn’t have the hair for it. His blond strands do nothing but stick straight up. Good strategy, Wesley. Looking like a huge dork and wiggling your head off will be oh so hot.

But then again, I’m trying to impress Talon with my nonexistent football skills.

Almost every time we hang out, just the four of us, I wonder if the two lovebirds catch on to the obvious flirt-fest going on with their best friends. But neither seems to
have a dent. Talon’s actually laughing at Wesley’s performance as if it’s not a huge, big sign that says,
I’m in Love with Your Girlfriend!
And Reagan still sends me waves and smiles like I’m not holding the same sign, only I’ve written
Boyfriend
, obviously.

That’s when the guilt sets in. They don’t worry about it because they trust their best buds not to go after their significants. I suppose when you’ve been friends since diaperhood and jumped on the same bus to Berkeley, you don’t think about it. And you know, as much as I want to rip that shirt off Talon’s sexy body and kiss anywhere and everywhere he’ll let me, I won’t. At least not until Reagan gives me the thumbs-up. And that may never happen.

“You want to throw some more? Or should we call it a night?”

Talon’s face is right there. His sweaty forehead is pretty much the best thing ever, even though that sounds super gross. To me, it means he’s active. And I like that.

Before I can answer, Reagan shouts from the stands, “Hey, babe! I have to run. Curfew in thirty!”

Translation: Let’s get out of here and make out in the dorm before we’re caught.

I have to stop my lip from jutting out.

Wesley doesn’t look too happy either. He’s putting his guitar away, his eyes focused on that and his lips pressed into a thin line. As much as the guy annoys the hell out of me, I so feel his pain.

“Till next time then, Kayla. Remember what I taught you about the grip.” Talon smiles. I nod and walk with him so he can wrap his arms around my best friend.

Wesley hops down next to me just as Reagan plows into Talon. We don’t touch, but we do lightly smile at each other, like,
Yeah, I know this sucks
.

“I’ll see you later, sweetie,” Reagan says, giving me a big hug then dashing back into Talon’s arms. She doesn’t touch Wesley at all. And Talon doesn’t touch me.

Both of us let out a sigh as we watch them walk away.

“I don’t know how much longer I can take it,” Wesley says, adjusting the strap on his guitar case.

I nod, nudging his arm. “You and me both, buddy.”

“You ready to go home? Or you want to hang out some more?”

Shrugging, I start walking to his car. There isn’t really anybody in the stadium I feel like being around. “Doesn’t matter. What would we do?”

“See a movie, maybe. Cruise. I don’t care. I just don’t want to go home. Don’t want to be alone right now.”

Agreed. Anyway, he’d just drop me off at the dorm and I’d have to wait outside till Reagan and Talon unlock from each other. I go nuts thinking about the visual.

“I’m up for a distraction. Let’s just get in the car and see where we end up.”

He gives me a small smile. One that says he appreciates what I’m doing, but he’s still bummed. I return the gesture.

I guess that saying is true. Misery sure does love company.