Kissing the Shy Guy - Stephanie Street Page 0,28

The powerful engine growled to life.

“Hold on,” I called over the noise.

Jenna’s arms slithered around my waist. Her hands gripped the front of my t-shirt. Her chest pressed against my back.

I swallowed hard. What was wrong with me? Everything about the way she affected me should feel wrong. But it didn’t.

“Where are we going?” She sat forward to shout near my ear.

“You’ll see.”

Using my feet, I walked the bike back until I could drive it forward, then revved the engine. Before taking off, I pressed Jenna’s hands to my abdomen, a signal for her to hold on tight. She squeezed closer and nodded against my shoulder. She was ready.

I grinned. That’s what she thought.

I opened the throttle. The bike surged forward, and Jenna’s body tensed with surprise. Her grip tightened around me, but she laughed in my ear.

We drew a few stares as we rode toward the exit, but I didn’t care. I didn’t think she did, either.

“That was so fun!” Jenna’s eyes sparkled as she climbed off the bike, bracing her hands on my shoulders for support.

She made me feel like I’d just single-handedly hung the moon. The ride hadn’t taken long enough. I took her helmet and pulled off my own, hanging them both from the handlebars.

I’d stopped in front of an ice cream shop downtown. It was right across the street from a park. I figured we could get some ice cream and take it to the park to eat.

I held out my hand again. Jenna didn’t hesitate to take it this time. We walked into the little shop hand in hand. What was I doing?

Inside, we waited in a short line to order. I kept hold of her hand, and she didn’t pull away. I couldn’t take my eyes off her. I didn’t even try. Instead, I drank in the sight of her lips, painted her signature cherry red. She’d pulled her hair into a tight ponytail, leaving her long neck exposed into the deep V of the dress shirt tantalizingly unbuttoned.

I wasn’t the only one looking, either. Jenna met my eyes, gaze for gaze, and when I couldn’t take it anymore, I reached for her hip, pulling her into me. She didn’t object. She didn’t even seem surprised.

Something was going on between us, something new and exciting and so hot.

Someone behind us cleared their throat. I tore my gaze from Jenna to find the line had moved and we were next to order.

“What would you like?” I asked.

Jenna ordered a single scoop of the rocky road while I got a double scoop of chocolate and coffee-flavored ice cream with peanut butter mixed in. I let go of her hand to retrieve my wallet from my pocket, taking it again once I’d paid. We bypassed the little tables inside the shop.

“I thought we’d go to the park,” I said, gesturing across the street.

“Okay,” she agreed easily enough.

We jaywalked across the street. I headed straight for a picnic table beside a cluster of low bushes, hidden from the main road. I sat down beside her, unwilling to lose the closeness we’d shared since I took hold of her hand at the school.

Jenna turned into me so that our legs touched under the table. Maybe I wasn’t the only one feeling it. I hoped not.

We ate our ice cream without saying much. I was having difficulty keeping my eyes off her, let alone my hands.

“So,” she asked after taking the final bite of her ice cream. “What are we doing here?”

Unable to hold myself back any longer, I put my arm around her waist. “I can’t remember,” I murmured. We had things to talk about, but that could wait. I leaned forward, wanting to kiss her, but not feeling brave enough just yet. Instead, I brushed her cheek with my chin.

My face was just beginning to stubble with a five o’clock shadow, the whiskers rasped against her skin as my lips moved close to her ear.

Jenna’s breath hitched again, her fingers gripping the front of my t-shirt.

“Are you really as mean as they say,” I murmured, my mouth just a breath from hers. I hadn’t meant to say that but didn’t regret it.

Jenna stilled with her hands on my chest. If the question offended her, at least she didn’t push me away. “I guess it depends on who you’ve been talking to.”

“Jarom. Laura,” I said, to name a few.

“Then, yes. Probably.” She gripped my shirt, pulling me in.

Moving only my lower body, I rose and straddled the bench