not, but it was a sweet image in my mind.
Those freckles, though, were a tantalizing contrast to the strong, masculine lines of his cheeks and jaw, both covered with bristly whiskers.
I wanted to paint those lines.
Taggish snapped his fingers in my face. “Mara? Earth to Mara!”
“What?” I blinked and focused. “What?”
He frowned, and an adorable wrinkle appeared between his eyes.
Adorable?
Really?
Pull yourself together, Mara. This was Taggish. The trouble next door. I couldn’t get sucked in by freckles and manly whiskers.
“Are you okay?” he asked, his hand still resting on my forearm.
“Yes. I’m fine.” I shook myself free of his touch.
Taggish never talked to me at school. We didn’t really talk at all. It was more like we yelled at each other.
“O-kay.” He hit me with the full force of his gaze. “Can I walk with you a sec?”
Gracious, he had gorgeous eyes.
Wait.
He wanted to walk with me?
“Why?”
His head fell back, and he stared at the ceiling. “Why are you so suspicious? Jeez. We’re neighbors, aren’t we?”
Neighbors. Not friends. In fact, I might even say enemies.
Neighbor enemies. Nenemies.
“Fine. Let’s walk together.” He was up to something. But what? We were at school, just walking. Him casually sauntering—me, well, like I had a stick up the wazoo.
Fifty feet of tiled floor and a hundred of our fellow students separated us from the cafeteria doors—a long way to go without speaking to one another. I wracked my brain for something to talk about. Then I remembered.
“So . . . how’s baseball?” Yikes. Brilliant conversationalist, I was not. But Taggish didn’t seem to notice.
“Good. We just started this week.” He lifted one shoulder in a half shrug.
My back prickled. “Oh. Right.”
I didn’t know Taggish well, but something told me he was being weird. For all his casual appearance, his eyes darted around like he was searching for something.
But what?
Best keep him talking. “What position do you play?”
Did he stumble a bit? “Centerfield. Let’s not talk, okay?”
Rude much? “What is your problem?”
He stopped searching the hall and looked at me. “I don’t have a problem. What’s your problem?”
“Why are your eyes doing that?” I might not have noticed except I liked his eyes. They didn’t look as nice when they twitched.
He almost reached up to touch his face but caught himself and stuffed his hand in his pocket instead. “Doing what?”
Fine.
He wanted to play like that?
Fine.
“Whatever, Taggish.” I’d just pretend he wasn’t there. The idiot.
It wasn’t easy. He smelled good. Spicy, but clean. Not overpowering, just enough to tinge the air between us. I half wanted to lean in, get a lungful. But then I’d be the one acting weird. Besides, I wasn’t interested in boys right now. I had more important things to worry about. And even if that weren’t the case, Taggish would be the last guy on the planet I’d look at twice.
Okay, I might look. But I still wouldn’t be interested in him.
We were about five feet from the double doors to the cafeteria when it happened. Out of nowhere, Taggish took hold of my face.
“Don’t hit me,” he murmured, right before he kissed me.
3
Taggish
I kissed her. Mara. My annoying neighbor.
At first—because it would have to be a heck of a kiss to earn detention—the only emotion I registered was triumph. I’d done it. After stressing for the last two days, I’d tracked Mara down and kissed her right in front of the lunch monitor, Ms. Fox, a woman known for strictly enforcing the school handbook.
Yes!
Then, because I’m a guy with a pulse, my body and my brain woke to what was happening. Awareness. I noticed everything about Mara. Silky lips I’d half expected to taste sour because of the way she was, but—mmm, what was that? Sweet. Sugary. Vanilla.
She tasted so good. I licked her lips. They parted.
My brain emptied. My arms knew what to do without being told. Pull her closer. She felt soft . . . everywhere. My motivation altered.
Just. Like. That.
I tilted my head and paused. For less than a second, I waited, because she hadn’t asked for this, and I wanted more than I originally planned to take. Her chin lifted.
Perfect.
Why hadn’t I thought of kissing Mara before? Because kissing her had my blood humming. I’d kissed girls before, yeah. But this—actually, who cared? I’d think about it later.
So, so good.
“Mr. Morton.” I heard my name. There was a tap on my shoulder. And none too gently.
Go away, whoever you are. Mara’s hands fisted in my shirt at my waist.
Whoa. I sank further.
“Mr. Morton!”
“What? Can’t you