Kiss Me Not (Kiss Me 1)

I stuck my tongue out at him, but I was laughing.

“And on that topic: I won’t be defending next year. You’ll have two new competitors.”

Dad looked at me. “Why isn’t he defending?”

Preston beat him to it. “I’ve learned a lot over the last week or so, but the most important thing I’ve learned is that there’s only one person I want to kiss, and she’s standing right over there.”

My eyes widened as he pointed at me.

“And don’t worry, despite the look of terror on her face, she does already know this.”

My dad smiled, nudging me in the back to push me forward.

“What are you doing?” I mouthed Preston.

“Kiss her!” Someone that sounded an awful lot like Reagan shouted from the crowd.

I was going to kill her.

“Yeah, kiss her! Kiss her! Kiss her!” That was my grandmother who was now standing on the judge’s table.

And she’d started a chant.

Oh, my God.

The entire crowd was joining in. It got louder and louder until almost everyone was doing it. My cheeks flamed red hot, and I looked at my sandal-clad feet on the stage instead of anywhere else.

Preston’s hand slid around to the back of my neck, and he dipped his head. “Sorry.”

“No, you’re not.”

He laughed, bringing our bodies fully together. “At least they won’t gossip now.”

And then he kissed me.

Just once. A single touch, but one that meant so much. It warmed my entire body, consuming me until I was barely aware of anything other than him.

I had tingles all over my skin where he touched me, and I knew.

I was teetering on the edge of falling in love with Preston Wright.

There was no going back from it, not now. It all felt completely right, even though there was whooping and hollering from people who loved a show.

He released me with a wide smile. His eyes shone with something I couldn’t place, an emotion that I knew was genuine all the same. “Whoops?”

“Whoops my ass!” I laughed and leaned into him when he wrapped his arm around my shoulders, nestling me against him.

“Is this where I drop the mic?” he whispered into my ear.

“Metaphorically. My dad probably won’t like it if you actually drop it.”

His chuckle made his whole body tremble, and he turned and held it out in the direction of my dad. “I just realized I kissed you in front of your dad.”

“Yep.”

“Shit.”

I laughed, covering my mouth with my hand.

Dad approached us with a stern look on his face. “And what on Earth was that?”

I could see the glint in his eye that said he was messing with Preston, but he went as rigid as a board next to me.

“I, uh, sir—”

Dad burst out laughing and yanked him over, hugging him. He patted him on the back twice before letting him go. “Go on, you two. I’m not surprised at all. We need to get the talent show back on.”

“Sure.” Preston tucked me back under his arm.

“Tell Grandma I’m going to kill her,” were my parting words to my dad.

He laughed, and Preston swept me off the stage and around the back. The crowd watching the talent show had calmed down, and there were so many people there that the food stalls were all but empty.

We detoured quickly and grabbed a couple of hot dogs before we made it back to the booth. It was silent, and we ducked inside the tent together.

“That was dramatic,” I said, sitting cross-legged on the stage.

Preston dropped to the floor in front of me with a laugh. “I’m not gonna lie, I did that in the hope Lindsay would leave me alone now.”

“I knew there was an ulterior motive for it.”

“Only a little one.”

I pursed my lips. “I can’t believe you beat me.”

He laughed, leaning back on his hands. “It was never in doubt.”

“Liar. You looked really shocked up there.”

“All right, I was. I really thought you were going to keep your streak going for another year.”

“Five would have been nice. What would have been nicer is being able to hold it over your head like you’re going to do to me, though.”

“Me? What gives you that idea?”

“The big shit-eating grin on your face,” I replied. “At least your sister is richer for it.”

“She bet on me, didn’t she?”

I nodded. “Ava’s going to be furious.”

“Ava’s always furious about something. It’s basically her default emotion, like Reagan’s is, well, she doesn’t have emotions. She’s basically a walking, talking potato.”

I snorted, scrunching up the hot dog wrapper. I leaned back and looked around the tent. “It’ll be weird not being here next year.”

“I guess it will be for you. It’s been so long.”

“I’m looking forward to it, though. Maybe I’ll actually get to enjoy the fair more next year. Although I won’t miss the smell of this place.”

Preston wrinkled his face up. “It is pretty damn smelly. Maybe next year the kissing booth needs to raise money to replace the kissing booth.”