Wreck me, I won’t break.
You’d be surprised what I can take.
Wyatt nodded his approval. “You’re a good student.”
I laughed. “It was one kiss. Don’t go getting any ideas.”
“I don’t know, kissing tutor has a nice ring to it. I could get on board with such an arrangement,” he replied, adding a wink. “In the name of research, of course.”
I rolled my eyes, shoving down the butterflies that burst to life at the mere hint of another kiss. “Let’s try it again from the top.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Wyatt
I was trying to act like I was unaffected by that kiss but was failing miserably. It was all I could think about as we finished rehearsing. I was sure Layne was onto me since she’d suggested we call it a night twice already. But for some reason I kept stalling.
I knew Layne had only let me kiss her in the name of furthering her music, but still, I didn’t want tonight to end.
Finally, Layne yawned and announced she couldn’t play a moment longer. Truthfully, my voice was starting to get hoarse, but I wasn’t letting that stop me.
“So, tell me about the next song,” I said as we packed up our things.
She hesitated, but then said, “It’s called Invisible.”
I raised an eyebrow, and she flushed. I threaded my fingers behind my head and leaned back in my chair enjoying the view. I was beginning to grow addicted to the way even the simplest of my gestures affected her. Could that kiss have meant more to her, too?
The thought made me brazen. “I think we’re a good match, Penny Layne.”
She stilled and blinked up at me. “What?”
“Don’t you?”
“Um, I guess musically we work surprisingly well.”
“Just musically?”
Layne turned pink, her mouth frozen in a slight O shape.
I smirked. “Noted. I guess I read that wrong. Strictly business partners,” I said, giving her a sarcastic salute.
“Oh, it’s just . . . I, um—”
“It’s okay, Penny Layne. I’m just teasing.”
So, I’d been wrong about the kiss. Oh well. It was still totally worth it.
“You know, your humor isn’t as charming as you think,” she replied.
“Also noted.” I laughed. “But I still think you’re good for me.”
“Why’s that?”
“You make me want to be someone I’m not.”
“And that’s a good thing?”
I nodded. “That’s a very good thing,” I said, crossing the room until I stood in front of her. “Especially since we’ll be spending a lot of time together. And don’t think you’re getting out of me driving you home tonight.”
“Oh, you don’t have to do that.”
“I know. But I want to.” I grinned. “See there you go making me want to be all heroic and chivalrous.”
She huffed a laugh. “Well, I guess it’s only fair.”
“What do you mean?”
“I know I’m your project for the time being. I guess you can be mine, too.”
I liked the sound of that a bit too much. “Oh yeah, and what’s the goal of these projects?”
“You’re going to help me win the songwriter’s scholarship and I’m going to help you learn how to be nice.”
I feigned shock. “Who says I’m not nice?”
“Have you already forgotten about the I Hate Wyatt Nash Club?”
“How could I?”
“You’re going to need my help if you hope to get it disbanded,” she teased.
I smirked and offered her my arm. “I’m game if you are.”
Layne laughed, her cheeks filling with that rosy glow I liked so much. But then she looped her arm through mine and let me lead her out into the brisk evening air.
The whole car ride back to her house we talked music, flipping through my music app arguing over who had better taste. At first, we’d agreed on quite a few artists, but when we delved deeper, I found there was a whole genre that I needed to expose her to.
“I can’t believe you don’t listen to Mogli! Your sounds are really similar. I think you’d like her. You should come over. I have her album on vinyl.”
“Of course, you do.”
“What does that mean?”
“Nothing, it’s just so cliché.”
“Vinyl?” I was flabbergasted. “You realize saying vinyl is cliché, is cliché. Vinyl is king!”
“Vinyl is pretentious.”
“Have you ever listened to anything on vinyl?”
“No.”
“Hmm, I seem to remember there was something else you recently tried and changed your mind about. What was it? Let me think . . .”
Layne tried to fight her grin by punching me in the shoulder.
“Hey, no assaulting the driver.”
“No humiliating the passenger,” she tossed back.
“I’m not humiliating you. I’m merely reminding you that you shouldn’t judge things like kissing or vinyl without trying them first.”
She snorted.
I slowed to a stop at the light and glanced over at her. “Admit I’m right.”
She stubbornly shook her head.
I arched an eyebrow. “Do you need a refresher on kissing already? Because I’m happy to oblige.”
Her face flushed and she bit her lip, making my insides ignite. This girl was blowing up my game without even trying!
“Fine,” she admitted. “You were right about the kiss.”
“I know I was,” I challenged. “It rocked your world and so will vinyl.”
She laughed. “Fine, but not tonight. It’s already late and I have a ton of homework.”
“Alright, tomorrow then.”
“Fine.”
“It’s a date.”
“It’s not a date,” she warned. “It’s research.”
I winked. “You have your words, I have mine.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Layne
I rolled out of bed the next morning, exhausted from a sleepless night. I couldn’t stop replaying Lola’s words in my head—'be careful, don’t get hurt.’
She’d been right to warn me about Wyatt. We’d been rehearsing together for two days and I’d already kissed him. Yes, it was an educational kiss to make me a better songwriter, but no matter how many times I told myself that, I couldn’t convince the butterflies Wyatt’s kiss had awoken to go back into hibernation.
I needed to find a way to get myself under control. I felt like I had ‘no longer a kiss virgin’ stamped on my stupid smiling face. I was supposed to video chat with Lola last night, but I was worried she’d take one look at me and know what I’d done, so I’d used homework as an excuse to avoid her.
Would she hate me forever when she found out I’d kissed her nemesis?
I was supposed to hate Wyatt Nash. Not kiss him!
How had things gotten out of control so quickly? I wondered if mono was running ramped through Northwood, because I certainly felt like I had some sort of kissing virus. How else could I explain how the space in my head that used to listen to reason and form rational thoughts now did only one thing—think of Wyatt’s lips!