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They both laugh.

Shit—break my heart again—did my mom used to date Mr. Kennedy? Oh yuck. Not that Mr. Kennedy isn’t sort of cute for old guy, and was probably a total hottie when he was young, but I hate these unexpected bombs that hit me out of nowhere and say Chrissie used to have a life. She should be so much more of a cool mom than she is.

God, I hate lying.

Fuck, how long is this call going to take?

“I just wanted to thank you for including Kaley over the holidays,” my mom murmurs into the speaker. “Zoe’s such a sweetheart. A good friend to my daughter.”

“We feel the same way about Kaley.”

“Well, I just wanted you to know I appreciate your kindness to her. It’s been hard relocating. Adjusting. I’ve got a lot going on and your house has become practically Kaley’s second home.”

“You always have a lot going on, girl,” Ian teases. Gross. Did he just flirt with my mom? They both laugh again. “And we enjoy having her.”

Enjoy having her?

Really?

I’ve been to Zoe’s only twice, ever.

Maybe this was a good plan.

Hurry up. Hurry up.

I want to know if I’m busted or out of here.

“Well, thank you for letting my girl join you for the holidays. Have fun. I’m jealous. I could use a holiday.”

Oh crap.

Mom just rambled.

I sink my teeth into my lower lip and tense.

“Any time, Chrissie. We’re here for you always. We need to do dinner soon and catch up. It’s been too long.”

“We definitely do. Thanks, Ian. Have a wonderful Thanksgiving.”

“You, too, Chrissie.”

Click.

My mom shoves the phone across the table to me and sits back in her chair.

Fudge, I can’t tell which way this is going to go.

I pick up my cell. “Well, can I leave? I don’t want to keep Zoe hanging.”

Waiting.

Waiting.

Come on, Chrissie, come through for me.

My mom nods. “Do you have everything you need?”

A smile I can’t contain fills my face as I spring from the chair. “Yep, I have everything. Credit cards. Cash. I’m good.”

Chrissie frowns. “What about snow clothes?”

“I’m borrowing them from Zoe.” Shit. That was dumb. Zoe is a midget and she’s round. “Mrs. Kennedy has extra snow clothes. I didn’t want to buy anything. I may not like it. I’m not really into the snow. I’m like you. Beach girl all the way.”

Chrissie laughs and picks up her coffee cup. “That was nice of Yotti. I’m not really into the snow either. Jesse tried to teach me how to snowboard. This may surprise you. I’m not very coordinated. It wasn’t good.”

I laugh. Jeez, don’t let this turn into an hour-long conversation down memory lane.

I don’t know what else to do.

I kiss my mom on the head.

“See you Sunday night, Mom.”

I go for my bag.

“Call me when you get there, Kaley. And check in with me every night and every morning. I worry when you’re gone.”

Well, that’s going to be a buzzkill; spending my entire five days with Bobby phoning Mom.

I nod. “I will, Mom.”

“Love you.”

“Me, too.”

I hurry out the front door, and find Zoe waiting at the curb like she said she would be. I toss my bag into the back and climb into the passenger seat.

She gives me a slightly gloating expression. “I told you it would work.”

I make a face at her, but then we both laugh.

She pulls away from the curb. “Did she call my dad?”

“Yep.”

Zoe shakes her head. “My dad never knows what’s going on and my mom bitches at him so much about it he’s afraid to admit it. I could tell him anything and he’d just say ‘oh yeah.’”

“Well, there was a moment there I thought busted.”

“Nope, wasn’t going to happen. Do you want to stop for coffee before we go to Jake’s to meet up with everyone?”

“Yep. Make a stop. I need a latte with about six shots to recover from that call. They flirted with each other. So obvious. So gross.”

Zoe scrunches up her face. “Yuck. My dad is such a flirt.”

I think of Alan and I don’t want to. “At least he’s not in the tabloids every day.”

She gives me a sharp look. “Nope, you’re not doing it on this trip, Kaley. We’re not talking about Alan Manzone. You are not cyberstalking the online tabloids or anything else. Google him even once and I’m taking your phone away.”

My cheeks redden.

“You’ve been really happy lately,” Zoe adds intensely. “Since Bobby. It’s nice. And Bobby is a great guy. You’re so lucky. Can’t you see that? Don’t you think he deserves some time with you just about him? When you don’t Google you’re more fun. And I want to have big fun this trip.”

Oh crap.

She’s right.

I arch a brow. “Big fun, huh? How do you know it’s big? I thought you and Jake weren’t doing it yet.”

She shrugs and pulls into the Starbucks drive-thru. “I know the same way you know Bobby’s is. Always wise to check out the package first. Better than being disappointed at the moment it matters. That’s what my mom told me.”

“Oh God. Yotti didn’t.”

“Yep, she did.”

We both burst out laughing.

 

 

CHAPTER 12

It’s dark by the time we reach Santa Cruz. The six-hour drive has been torture. My heart is thumping so rapidly it feels like I’m going to have a heart attack and for some strange reason I really want to call my mother.

Stupid, Kaley. That would so be the wrong move.

I left Pacific Palisades feeling almost drunk from the wildness of being on the edge of a change in my life—a change I’m desperate for, lied to get out of the house to make happen, and definitely want. More than eager to be five days alone with Bobby. No going home at night. Going to sleep and waking up next to him. No one stopping us. Just us. Together. Loving each other. Finally totally and completely everything a couple should be.

I left Southern California feeling determined, in control; my femaleness pumping through me like an adrenaline rush. Now I feel tentative and absurdly afraid. Reality started to melt down my euphoria when the cars with Zoe and Jake, Seth and his date cut out in Cambria for lunch, and Bobby decided to keep driving up Highway 1 without them.

An hour ago, I lapsed into silence and pretty much haven’t said a word since. I’ll be alone with Bobby at least three hours in our temporary digs in Santa Cruz before everyone else catches up—thanks to Seth’s mystery date keeping everyone waiting at Jake’s, and Bobby deciding we should start out before the rest of them to get things ready—and I don’t need to ask Bobby why he maneuvered that one.

He’s going to fuck me the second we get through the front door. The way he’s been watching me the entire drive tells me that. He’s never looked at me this way. And the light touches and little kisses throughout the hours have stirred my flesh into an unrelenting burn from head to toe.

The air around us is filled with sexual tension, but even as urgent as I am to have sex with him, sharp bites of nervousness I can’t quell nip at my insides.

This is so not the way I always pictured it would happen. I just sort of figured I’d be in the moment, my body carried beyond my control, and then I’d be screwing some guy and that stupid virginity thing would be done with. But this is different—and so much harder—a moment I have to make happen, step into, and consciously decide to do.

I don’t even know how to have sex with a guy. Not really. Doing bits and pieces in parts has got to be different than the whole enchilada and going all the way. And holy shit, we’re going to be sharing a bed for five days.

It’s what I want.

It’s not like I want to turn back.

Why am I freaking out and afraid?