Stalk Me (The Keatyn Chronicles, #1)

Aiden smiles. “Nothing. I lied. It was either that or kick the crap out of that Riley dude for sucking on your fingers.”


I scoff at him. “Why would you do that? He was just stealing my cotton candy.”

“Looked like a little more than that, and I heard you were making out with Dallas last night after I left.”

“We were high. It was just a little friendly kissing.”

“I don’t like it.”

“Why not?”

“I just don’t.”

He’s kinda weird. How could anyone be against kissing? I know I’m definitely pro Kissing. Maybe that could be my student council platform, if I do decide to run for office.

“So, now what?”

“You look pretty. I like your hair like that,” he says.

I was totally unprepared for a compliment and, for some reason, all of a sudden, I can barely speak.

“Uh, thanks,” I sputter out.

I swear, I’m a very literate and well-spoken young lady. I can talk to anyone. Heads of state, blockbuster movie stars, rock stars, professional athletes. But this boy has me tongue tied. And then I stare at his mouth and think I’d like to know more about his tongue.

Okay. That’s it.

I need a time out.

Like my little sisters get.

Go sit in a corner by myself.

Seriously.

I think I’m on new boy overload.

“So, did the four-leaf clover bring you luck?”

“I don’t know yet. I think we find out sometime tonight who made it. And, you know, the odds aren’t good. I’m sure I didn’t make it.”

“My sister said you did very well. You also did very well at soccer tryouts. Kicked ass, really. You’ll definitely make varsity.”

“You think?”

“Yeah, I do. Hey,” he gets an adorable little boy grin, “wanna go ride the Ferris wheel?”

“I’d love to.”

He takes my hand.

And, once again.

Same reaction.

His touch makes me feel slightly dizzy.

No way I can kiss this boy. I’d probably pass out.

And that would probably not be a good thing.

I never had a reaction like this to any boy. What is wrong with me?

It must be my emotions. Everyone said they were amazed I was handling things so well.

That must be it.

I’m traumatized.

I’m thinking so hard, I barely realize we’re now sitting on the Ferris wheel together. He’s sitting close to me, and he casually puts his arm around my shoulder.

I can’t help it.

My body leans into him, and I rest my head on his shoulder.

I feel like I’ve died and gone to hottie heaven.

Please, God, or hottie gods, whoever, don’t let this ride end.

Pretty soon we are stuck at the very top of the Ferris wheel, looking down at the pretty lights.

He says, “Boots.”

I raise my head up, and that’s when he kisses me.

A slow, perfect, time-stood-still, fireworks-in-my-eyes kind of kiss.

And it was just a little kiss. No open mouths, no tongues; just a kiss.

A little teeny kiss.

Holy shit.

I’m in love with him.

The kiss has stopped, but I’m stupidly still sitting here with my eyes closed.

I realize this and open them.

“That was amazing,” he tells me.

I can’t form a sentence, so I nod breathlessly.

He kisses me again.

And I don’t change my mind with the second kiss.

But, I cannot. Cannot fall in love with a guy who is gonna play me. A guy who thinks he’s in love with every girl he dates but breaks up with them quickly because he just knows she’s not the one.

After a kiss like that, he should know I’m the one.

He should be down on his knees begging me to marry him and have his little Hottie babies.

There shouldn’t be anything to think about.

But I’m sure it was a one-sided thing. Although he said it was amazing.

Shit. He stopped kissing me again, and now he’s saying something to me.

“It’s our turn to get off next.”

When did the Ferris wheel even move?

I seriously did not feel it move.

We step off the ride, and I feel the extreme urge to run away from him as fast as I possibly can. Dawson the predator, or even Tyrese the winker, seem safe compared to Aiden.

He must really be the god of all Hotties.

Seriously.

Because I’m pretty sure he just used some of his special powers on me. The make-her-lose-track-of-all-time power. The kiss-her-and-fill-her-mind-with-cotton-candy power.

“Uh, um, I gotta get back to my, um, friends,” I stutter out.

The make-her-lose-the-ability-to-form-a-complete-sentence power.

“Oh, no you don’t. My sister really is looking for you. I was supposed to find you and bring you back to the stage.”

He smiles.

It’s a blinding, white-toothed smile.

A push-me-over-the-edge-of-the-love-cliff smile.

And before I can say a word in protest, he’s got my hand and is dragging me through the carnival.

Note to self: Do not stare directly at his smile. It holds special powers.

Also: Do not kiss him. His mouth is definitely the source of his power.

Stay far away from it.

Far, far away.