Kissing the Shy Guy - Stephanie Street Page 0,60

and I didn’t even care.

Adam’s mouth curved into a smile as he kissed me one last time before standing. “Let’s get some ice cream, then I’ll take you back to your car.”

“I can’t argue with ice cream.” I let him pull me to my feet, feeling lighter than I had in weeks. Months. Years! It was a relief to talk to someone about my mom. And Adam seemed to get it. I appreciated that he didn’t defend her actions, but validated my feelings. As much as I loved her, and as much as I knew she loved me, I was hurt and disappointed.

“Is anyone from your family coming to the competition?” We’d just sat down outside the ice cream shop, me with a scoop of mint chocolate chip and him with another concoction of chocolate, coffee, and peanut butter flavors.

“My parents are. They’re planning to stay with Diana.” He closed his eyes and groaned. “This is so good.” He held out his spoon. “Want to try it?”

I shook my head. “No. I don’t like peanut butter.”

His eyes bulged. “You’re kidding. Right? You have to be. After all that, I don’t want to have to end things right now over peanut butter.”

I grinned. “You’d throw me over because of peanut butter? Here I was worried you’d realize what a meanie I really am and ditch me for that.”

“Nah. You can’t tell me anything worse about yourself than I already know from Jarom. So, really it all comes down to peanut butter.” He stuffed another spoonful of ice cream in his mouth and moaned.

But I couldn’t get past what he’d said. “Jarom hates me.”

Adam worked on swallowing his ice cream, his eyebrows pinched. Either he was thinking really hard, or he had a brain freeze.

“Hate’s a strong word,” he finally said.

I laughed. He was being diplomatic. “I doubt it’s strong enough.”

Adam shifted in his seat. “You both have strong personalities that are bound to clash.”

“Is that how you guys are such good friends because you’re so laid back?” I asked and took another bite of my own ice cream. I’d have to remember to pick some up the next time we had a sleepover at Lydia’s. My best friends would love this stuff.

Adam made a face. “Am I laidback?”

I snorted. “Aren’t you?”

“I guess—a little. I can be stubborn when I want to be. When it’s important.”

“Like peanut butter?”

He leaned forward, finally turning his smolder on me with purpose. “No, Jenna. Like you.”

24

Adam

“When?” This couldn’t be happening. I was seriously about to punch something. Or someone.

“Next week.” Asher spared me only a glance. He sat on a stool in the practice room where we rehearsed, his foot bouncing up and down like a crack addict needing his next fix.

“Next week? When next week?” I was about to get up and strangle our lead singer when he finally narrowed his eyes on me, his leg still.

“Dude, what does it matter? This is it! Our first live concert with Mom. And a whole month earlier than we thought.” His mom. Carly Ryan.

“It matters!” I yelled. Jarom and Bash, who’d been talking excitedly, stopped to stare at me. “What day? Where?”

Asher studied me, his brows pulled low like I’d suddenly revealed myself as an alien life form. But he’d at least picked up on the fact that I was serious and told me what I needed to know. “Next Saturday night. In New York.”

Hell.

Of course, it was. Hissing a breath out through my teeth, I yanked at my hair. I would have gladly pulled it all out to not be in this predicament.

“I can’t do it,” I said, but Bash and Jarom had begun talking again, and Asher was talking to Jordan. They were whispering to each other and grinning like idiots. None of them had heard me.

“I can’t do it,” I said again, louder this time.

Jarom and Bash ignored me completely. Asher glanced my way but immediately turned back to Jordan.

I got to my feet and tried again. “I can’t do it!”

They all froze. Bash and Jarom gaped, while Asher stared stunned. Jordan reached for his hand, but he brushed her aside, jumping to his feet.

“What do you mean, you can’t do it?” Asher’s fists clenched at his side. “This is it, man. Our big break. If this goes well, we might have a few fans of our own this summer.”

I raked my head with my fingers again. “Asher, man, I know. But do you know what day that is? It’s the day I perform