Kissing the Shy Guy - Stephanie Street Page 0,48

the concert the other night. She just couldn’t help it.”

This was a whole side of Jenna I didn’t think anyone ever saw, and that was how she wanted it. It softened her rough edges and made her seem more human. It also explained a little about why she had the raw edges to begin with. Jenna had been through a lot. Just looking in her eyes, the pain was there, plain to see if you took the time to look.

“And your mom? She had a meeting?” There was this feeling, this intuition I had about Jenna’s mom, something wasn’t right with them.

A shadow passed over Jenna’s face that had nothing to do with the dark, and she snorted. “Yeah. Mom had an emergency meeting for one of her committees.” Her eyes widened when she said emergency.

Hmmm, that sounded kind of ominous. “Does that happen a lot? The emergencies, I mean.”

Jenna snorted again. “Oh, yeah. All the time. At least she didn’t try to pull me into it this time like she does for the funerals.” Her eyes widened. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“It’s okay. I know what you meant.” I knew she was thinking about when we met at my great-uncle’s funeral.

Jenna sat up and leaned toward me. “I honestly don’t mind helping with the funerals. I’m a firm believer in doing good deeds. I like helping out. But I hate that she doesn’t even ask me, she just assumes I don’t have anything else to do. And if anyone in our family does have something else going on, it doesn’t matter. Whatever she has takes precedence.” She leaned back and sighed heavily. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be unloading on you like that.”

“It’s okay.” And it was.

“It’s just—I don’t know. Sometimes, I hate that I’m always at the bottom of the list, you know. Everything else comes first before me.” She buried her face in her hands and groaned. “Why am I telling you this? It’s like I can’t help but verbal vomit when I’m around you.”

That made me laugh. “I told you I’m a good listener.”

She lifted her head. “You are. Thank you. And I am sorry.”

I stood, taking her hand again and pulling her to her feet. “I’m not,” I murmured. I was trying. I really was, but she didn’t make it easy. Not only was she gorgeous and hot enough to make my blood boil, but there were these other layers. Intriguing and captivating layers, I wanted to peel back.

I touched her cheek with my fingertips. “You can trust me, you know.”

Jenna tilted her head into my hand. “That’s what they all say.”

19

Jenna

You can trust me. That’s what he’d said, and I wanted to believe him. If I could, maybe I’d take a chance. I wanted to see where all this attraction between us might lead. He’d come a long way in earning my trust by showing up every day for our rehearsals. I hated to admit it because I’d been so upset when Josh quit, but Adam was killing it. His voice was beautiful, full of texture and this kind of throaty quality that gave a modern sound to an old-school song.

The adjustment to acoustic had turned out to be brilliant. We ditched the original arrangement, singing the first three-quarters of the song while Adam played. For the last part, Adam would stand and come to me—or Tony would go to Maria. I’d simplified the ending, so the choreography didn’t overwhelm the emotion. If I did say so myself, the change was fantastic. Simple. Moving. And exactly enough to win.

We were down to three weeks left. Travel arrangements had been made, and the final confirmation of our entry into the competition submitted. With each passing day, my anxiety grew while I waited for the other shoe to drop.

“I heard you and Adam singing the other day.”

“Oh, yeah. Good for you.” I slammed my locker door shut, revealing Josh behind it. We’d hardly spoken a word to each other in weeks. I’d successfully avoided him except at the drama club meetings that were held every other week. Even then, I’d made sure our interactions remained focused on club business, unwilling to let him think I had any regrets about the demise of our relationship.

“Don’t be like that.” Josh scowled.

“Like what? Uninterested?” His scowl deepened. Like I cared. Rolling my eyes, I turned my back on him. We were done, finished. And I really couldn’t care less.

“I never meant to hurt you, you know,” he called.

I