Every Kiss (8 page)

Shane leans over the island and rests his chin in his hand.
“Hmm. This is too weird.”

“You and Wes.” The stunned look on her face is priceless.
“You’re hooking up. Like,
right
in front of us. You can’t deny it now.”

“Sure we can,” I reply, jumping off the counter. “We’re
pulling your chain, Mak. I knew what you were thinking, so Wes and I played a
joke on you.”

Shane’s laughter echoes around the room. “They got you. Me,
too. I would’ve sworn the two of you hooked up.”

“No . . . no, no, no. Not possible. You don’t meet someone
one day, and then you’re able to play a joke like that on someone the next. You
were kissing. Like
really
kissing. Something happened, and you’re both
too damn stubborn to tell me. Fess up.”

Wes stabs a fork into a stack of pancakes and shoves the
plate in her direction. “Eat up. I promise. There’s nothing going on.
Seriously, we’re only friends.”

“That close of friends in less than 24 hours? I don’t
believe you for a minute.”

I grab my plate, cutting my pancake into abnormal squares
before stuffing a large bite in my mouth. The melted chocolate hidden inside
unexpectedly reminds me of tasting it on Wes’ tongue, and I feel a strange
heaviness in the pit of my stomach. “Believe it or not, Mak. If we were hooking
up, you really think I’d be sucking chocolate off of him while he cooks your
breakfast the morning after? Think about it.”

She jabs the tines of her fork into the same piece over and
over, making me feel a little uneasy. Finally, she drops her fork into her
plate. “That joke sucked.”

We somehow make it through the next few hours without
anything else said, but she continues to look at me funny. She won’t approach
the subject again right now, but I’m not stupid. The next moment we have alone,
she’s going to pounce. All I’m worried about right now is trying to do whatever
I can to move as little as possible while picking up the insane amount of trash
left behind by the partygoers. The medicine helped for a little while, but my
headache is coming back with a vengeance.

I say it every time this happens, but this time I mean it.
Never. Drinking. Again.

It takes half of forever, but we finally manage to get the
house back to the way it was. Shane tells us that the cleaning crew will be
coming in this week, so we don’t worry with cleaning the floors and such. Then,
we hit the yard. There isn’t near as much trash inside as there was outside,
but without as many surfaces to put it on, most of it is on the ground. All of
the bending is killing me. My head feels like it’s going to explode every time
I squat to pick something up, and that’s making me a little queasy.

“You’re looking a little green. You okay?” Wes approaches me
as I stand to throw another cup in my trash bag. He places a cool hand on my
forehead.

“My head hurts. It pounds every time I stoop over, every
time I walk. Even breathing, at this point, is more than I can handle.”

“What time are the two of you supposed to leave?”

“I’m not sure. I think Makenna said around four or five
o’clock.”

He tugs his cell phone from his pocket to check the time.
“Come with me. I’ll help get all of this finished later.”

“You shouldn’t have to. It was for
your
birthday.”

“Callie.” Is it wrong that I love how he says my name? “I
don’t give a damn whose birthday it was. You feel like shit. You’re miserable.
Come with me.”

I nod.

He turns on his heel and heads into the house with me
following close behind. I hear Makenna call out, asking where I’m going, but I
ignore her. I’m feeling sicker by the minute, and I need to just sit down. Wes
stops in the kitchen to fill a large glass with ice and water, and he snags a
bag of frozen vegetables from the freezer. I eye him curiously, but he nods his
head in the direction of the stairs.

Halfway up, though, I think I’m seriously going to die. My
head is pounding so hard, it hurts to open my eyes. But my motivation to get
the rest of the way up the stairs is the bile rising up the back of my throat.
Nausea overcomes me, and I take off, shoving past Wes to make it into the bathroom
to heave into the toilet. I feel like my stomach is turning inside out, and my
headache is only making it worse.

A hand on my back rubs up and down the length of my spine
until I have nothing left in me to give. I’m far too miserable to be
embarrassed. I slump into the floor and press my cheek against the cool tile.

“Oh, no you don’t. Sit up.” Wes tugs my elbow until I’m
upright, and then he wipes my face with a damp cloth. It feels like heaven.
“Can you stand up without puking on me?”

“I just want to lie here on the floor.”

He snickers. “As much as I enjoy watching you roll around on
the floor, I can’t let you do that. Hold on.” He crooks one arm under my knees
and the other behind my back, lifting me slowly to carry me out of the
bathroom. “You’re a lot lighter when I’m not drunk.”

I feel the cloud-soft pillow under my head, and I sigh out
loud. The gentle pressure on my skull actually feels good. I hear some
footsteps and shuffling around, and then I feel a weight at the side of the
bed.

“I know your stomach is upset, but I need you to try to take
more meds. You’re going to feel worse as long as your headache is that bad. Sit
up a little, so you don’t choke.”

I sit up slowly, and he hands me two pills and the glass of
water. “Drink slowly.”

Once I lie back down, he takes my glasses off, setting them
on the nightstand, and grabs the bag of frozen veggies and rests it on the very
top of my head. The cold definitely helps, and I can’t help wondering how many
hangovers he’s had to know all the tricks. Then again, he is about five years
older, and therefore, has had more opportunity for life experience.

“I’m sorry,” I say as quietly as I can manage.

“Shh. Don’t apologize. Just close your eyes and rest.” He
stretches out beside me and lightly rubs his fingertips across my forehead.
“Stop scrunching your eyebrows. Relax your face.”

He continues to graze his fingertips over my face until all
the tension is gone. The throbbing eases ever-so-slightly, and the nausea is
only gentle waves now, becoming barely a ripple within a few minutes. I feel my
limbs growing heavier; my breathing is deep and steady. Sleep takes me slowly,
tenderly.

Almost as tender as the lips brushing my cheek in my dreams.

“CALLIE?” MAKENNA BRUSHES my hair
from my face. “Feeling any better?”

I roll over to face her. “I don’t feel like someone is
stabbing me in the brain with a stiletto. So, yes.”

“That’s brutal.”

“It was.” I reach out and take her hand. “Sorry I wasn’t
much help.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t realize how awful you felt.” She
squeezes my fingers.

“I didn’t either, really. It came on pretty quickly. Wes
said I looked green, so he made me come inside. Before I could get upstairs, I
had to race to the bathroom to throw up. God, I’m mortified.”

“He told me all about it before he left. He was more worried
about you than anything, so you shouldn’t be embarrassed.”

“He left?” Why am I so disappointed?

“He said he had to get home because he has to work tomorrow.
I think he’s not feeling too well, himself. He was acting kinda strange.
Speaking of getting home, I let you sleep way too long. We have to hit the
road, too. We have a ton of laundry to do tonight, and I have a paper I need to
work on tomorrow.”

“Okay.”

After loading up the car and saying our goodbyes to Shane,
we head back home. I feel a little better, but not totally back to normal.
Makenna stays mostly quiet; I think she’s trying really hard to let me rest.
And I almost think she’s going to make it the whole trip without bringing Wes
up, but I should’ve known better than that. Makenna doesn’t let anything go.
Ever.

“So . . .” She begins, turning the radio all the way down.
“When are you going to tell me?”

“Tell you what?”

Her deep sigh tells me that evading isn’t going to be
possible. “You know exactly what I’m talking about Callie. You’ve been acting
really weird, so I need to know what’s going on.”

“
Nothing
, Mak. Absolutely nothing. I get how it
looked . . . I really do. But I promise you, we’re only friends. We even talked
about it.”

She flings her hair over her shoulder like she always does
when she’s restless. “Why would the two of you even need to discuss it?
Something happened. What was it?”

“I don’t exactly know.” I’m drumming my fingers on my legs.
I hate her inquisitions almost as much as she hates mine.

“Callie.”

“What? I mean, I told you he was a jerk to me yesterday, and
I couldn’t stand to be in the same room with him. But he kept showing up, kept
apologizing for being rude. I felt sorry for him once you told me about his
mother—who he refused to talk to me about, by the way. Then when the party
started, I met his friend Jake, and Wes got all weird and territorial, telling
Jake that I was off-limits.”

She points at me. “Which totally pissed you off.” I love
that she gets me. I go on to explain how I talked to Jake again to try to get
back at Wes, only to end up kicking Jake’s ass in the backyard. She goes off on
a little rant about Jake, but I have to pull back the reins a little to keep
her on the subject of Wes. I could’ve let her keep going, but for some weird
reason, I want to talk about him. I want her opinion of him and if I should be
friends with him.

“So next thing I know, he’s pulling his clothes off and
getting in the hot tub with me.”

It’s getting dark in the car, but I can still see her jaw
drop. “You mean . . . naked?”

“No. Well, close enough, I guess. He was wearing boxer
briefs. And, yes, I checked him out. Not bad at all.”

“Hold that thought.” She whips the car into a gas station.
“We need coffee for this.”

I gawk at her and point to the coffeehouse across the street.
“Let’s go over there. I’m not getting coffee at a gas station again. It’s like
mud, and they have that disgusting powdered creamer that won’t ever dissolve.
Do you think I’m some kind of barbarian?”

She scowls. “Fine. But you’re buying.” She pulls into the
other lot and gets out of the car.

“What are you doing? There’s a drive-thru.”

“Yeah, like I can drive with you telling a story like this.”
She shifts back and forth on her feet impatiently. “Come inside. We’ll drink
while we talk and then drive the rest of the way.”

We place our orders and sink into a cozy booth away from the
other patrons. It’s not a bad looking joint. Typical coffeehouse, I guess. Dim
lighting, lots of different seating options, emo rock playing in the
background, the nutty scent of espresso. And of course, the experience wouldn’t
be complete unless you have a cute waitress with chunky blue highlights in her
hair and a lip piercing. I wish this place was a little closer to home.

The feeling of Makenna’s gaze boring into my forehead pulls
me from my observations. It won’t take long for her to bring it back up. I know
her too well.

Three.

Two.

One.

“So . . . keep talking!”

Nailed it. “Okay, where was I? Uh, we talked a while, shared
a sandwich, and drank way too much whiskey. I made him make a birthday wish,
and he proceeded to show me what the wish was.”

“What was it?” Bless her little naïve heart.

“He kissed me.”

She smacks both palms down onto the table, just as our
coffee is served by our very unsuspecting waitress. Poor thing just about
flings scalding coffee all over herself. After muttering an apology, Makenna
turns back to me. “Wesley Baxter kissed you. On the mouth. And it wasn’t part
of some stupid joke. Why am I just now hearing about this?”

I hold my hands up. “I know, I know. But really, it’s not a
big deal. We made out for a bit, and that’s all I remember. He told me this
morning that he carried me up to bed after I passed out on him.”

“Holy shit.” She seems stunned as she sips her coffee.

Might as well get it all over with right now. If he tells
Shane, she’ll probably hear about it from him and get all pissy. “That’s not
all, though. We also saw each other naked this morning.”

She sets her mug on the table so hard that it sloshes over
the side. “Nuh-uh. You didn’t.” Wide eyed, she lowers her voice and leans
across the table a bit. “You had sex?”

“Oh, nothing like that. I was feeling pretty rough when I
woke up, so I showered without realizing the door into his room was open. He
admitted that he was awake the entire time. Saw it all. I guess, to make me
feel better, he got up out of bed totally naked and walked into his closet to
get dressed. I
also
saw it all. Tit for tat. Literally. So I guess, by
the time we came downstairs this morning, we were quite comfortable with each
other, making it fairly easy to put on a good show for you and Shane. End of
story.”