Page 9 of March’s Bad Boy: Ty

He tilts his head, assessing me. "Almost. Needs more teasing."

I inhale deeply, and then level him with a look. "Okay, how about this? How does it feel knowing you peaked in high school?"

His jaw drops. "I didnotpeak in high school."

I smiled. "You sure? I seem to recall a certain someone getting by on charm and bad-boy tattoos."

"Charm?" He steps closer again, that dangerous glint back in his eyes. "So, youdidthink I was charming."

I groan. "That's not what I meant."

"You totally had a crush on me."

"Please. If anything, you had a crush onme." I mock.

Ty lets out a deep, amused hum. "Maybe I did."

The air thickens, and I don't know how we got here. This isn't just friendly teasing anymore. This is something else entirely, something that makes my skin tingle and my stomach flip.

I break the tension with a nervous laugh. "You're impossible."

He grins. "And you're getting better at this."

"Only because I'm comfortable with you," I say, looking down at my feet.

He reaches out and gently tilts my head so I’m looking at him.

“You will get comfortable with yourself and will be able to do this in no time.”

I shake my head, trying to regain some sense of normalcy. "Okay, what else?"

Ty watches me for a second before responding. "Confidence."

I blink. "What?"

"The way you carry yourself," he explains, eyes never leaving mine. "Confidence is attractive."

I scoff. "Right. Because I'm just overflowing with that."

He steps closer--again. "You don't see yourself the way I do."

My breath stalls. "Ty--"

"Lesson's over," he says abruptly, stepping back.

I'm shocked at the sudden change. Does he feel the energy in the air too? It’s not just me, right?

Then I remember Caitlin's text from earlier, the one that made me laugh until Ty walked in.

Caitlin: Tell him you think you're a bad kisser and see what he does.

I shouldn't. But maybe I want to know. I just know I'm not ready to be done with all this.

Wetting my lips, I watch him carefully. "I don't know, Ty... What if..." I trail off, losing the confidence to say it out loud.

"What if what, Bookworm?" He asks softly and there is a look in his eyes that gives me the courage to say the words.

"What if I'm a terrible kisser?"

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