Summer Breeze Kisses - Addison Moore Page 0,126

cheeks heat up as if they’ve been stuffed with live coals that my face is practically glowing. I hate that something as benign as my complexion gives away my intentions. My Irish heritage can be such a brutal traitor.

He frowns. “I’m accusing you of having two perfectly good feet, and I want to know why you asked me to come with you.”

“I like your leather seats.” Gah! That’s the best I can do? I like your freaking leather seats? “They smell nice.” At least I didn’t say that he smelled nice. His brows rise in amusement. Crap. He’s going to think I’m psychotic. There has to be a better reason. “And if we’re going to play the part of a couple—we should be doing things as a couple.” God, where is this going? And where the hell is the shut-off valve to my vocal cords? And why the hell aren’t my feet working so I can run the hell out of here? “You know, like kissing.” I stutter my way through that last word because for the life of me I can’t recall the last time I kissed a set of human lips. “Plus, I don’t really want you spending your Friday night with your lips buried in some sticky, sweet hole when I fully know where they’ll be in two weeks.”

“Two weeks?” His lips twitch as if he’s holding back a laugh. “Yes, Saturday after next. My dad says they want to get us all together for dinner and discuss the final details of the wedding.”

His eyes bear into mine as if he’s holding me hostage with them, and he might be. “And that’s when we’ll do the things that couples do?” Rex leans in until his searing breath rakes over my mouth. “Like kissing?” I can tell by that mocking smile, those hooded eyes, that he’s relishing the moment—to ridicule it for later no doubt.

My heart stomps its way out of my body with such efficiency, any minute now I expect to see it lying at my feet. People will ask how I died, and the answer will be I had a brief and fleeting desire to test out my kissing skills with my future stepbrother of all people. Of course, rumors do love exaggeration. It’s the hog the tick feeds off to get nice and bloody fat.

“Yes, we will kiss if we have to.” I brush past him and into the cool night. The scent of jasmine perfumes the air, and I take it in like a necessary elixir to calm my fragile nerves. The closer Rex Toberman inched to my body, the more I felt I was about to detonate.

“Maybe we should practice!” he shouts after me like a taunt, and I let out a raging scream that’s been building in me for as far back as that first night at the Happy Squirrel.

“You wish! I bet you can’t wait to stick that sick tongue of yours into my mouth!”

Someone lets off a catcall from across the street.

“I was thinking of a hole that’s a little stickier and sweeter!”

That’s it. I cover my ears and run all the way across the street to Whitney Briggs.

No sooner do I get into my dorm and jump into bed than my phone buzzes. It’s a text from the sticky, not-so sweet pervert himself.

Sorry. You bring out the best in me, Muffin Top. ;)

A dull smile comes and goes as I text him back. No problem, Goober. You bring out the donut-loving, dirty little stepsister in me. Thanx for keeping it real. Be ready to initiate a full and total takedown in two weeks.

He pings right back. I’m all in. Get ready to have your tonsils invaded.

A warm shiver rides down my spine right to my quivering thighs. Quick, I need something sarcastic and snappy to lop right back, or he’s going to think I’m actually meditating on the idea, blushing from head to toe as I envision how it would feel to have Rex Toberman invading my oral personal space in such a passionate manner—not that there would be actual passion, just your garden variety knockoff version specifically designed to spook our parents. My heart gives a few unnatural thuds at the thought of Rex invading my anything.

Crap. I shake my phone. “Say something.” I begin typing without giving it too much thought.

Every sticky, sweet orifice of my body is ready for your invasion. Let’s give them a show they’ll never forget. I hit Send then stare at my

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