Page 34 of No One Else

Short, blonde, and dressed head to toe in pink, she sneers, “Is this the level of kissing the customers should expect? Because you should probably raise your rates then.” She turns away, dismissing us. “All the booths will open in ten minutes. Might want to get your tongue out of his mouth before then.”

Natalie’s face reddens as the girl saunters back toward the other booths.

“Let me guess. Olivia.”

“Yeah.”

We stand in silence for a moment, neither of us bringing up that what we just did went completely past the bounds of anything I planned on doing with a paying customer. That we might have gone even further if we hadn’t been interrupted. That those declarations of love were circling in my head again, like she has some kind of truth serum on her lips that makes me want to confess everything.

“Oh, there’s Angela,” she exclaims in relief, flagging down an exotic looking girl that’s the definition of seductive. Long, wavy black hair frames a bronzed face with lips slathered in red lipstick. Add to that a skintight red dress with a generous amount of cleavage on display, and Natalie’s got a surefire hit for the kissing booth.

I set up the folding chairs as Natalie takes the girl’s pictures and posts them. I can only imagine the blurb she came up with to accompany her photos. For that matter, I never saw what she posted for my shirtless ones.

I pull up Instagram on my phone and go to Natalie’s profile, tapping on the post about me. A grin breaks out over my face at her description.Washboard abs. Kissable lips. Sexy god.

Does she really see me as a sexy god, or is that purely marketing?

Scrolling further down to the comments, my eyes widen. Some of the women on here are downright crude. Lord save me if they actually show up to the booth.

“Evan,” Natalie calls, motioning for me to come over. She goes over ground rules with us, what’s acceptable and what’s not, assuring us that she’ll be there to move the line along and act as a bouncer should the need arise.

“You’ll do great,” she says to both of us. She avoids my eye, though, most of her focus on Angela. I’m struck dumb for a second. I didn’t fuck everything up again by kissing her like that, did I? Even though she was the one who asked for it? Even though her response told me she clearly liked it?

Did I just set us back another couple months? Aw, Heather’s going to be so pissed.

“Thanks again for doing this,” she whispers to me as the first few people approach our booths. She squeezes my arm and steps away, warmly greeting the guy who can’t take his eyes off the sexy Latina in the red dress.

I release a breath. She can’t be too worked up about it then if she’s willing to touch me.

Everything is going to plan until about thirty minutes in when I get my first strange encounter. A petite girl approaches the booth, excitement shining on her face. “Oh yeah, you’ll do nicely,” she murmurs.

“Did you want to kiss Evan?” Natalie asks, stepping up next to me like she’s my personal bodyguard.

“Can I call you Harry? And can you do a British accent?”

Natalie and I exchange glances. “I guess so,” I hedge. “Like Prince Harry?”

She shakes her head.

“Harry Styles?” Natalie supplies helpfully.

The girl shakes her head again.

“Harry... Potter?” I guess.

She nods vigorously, unzipping her jacket to reveal what looks like a Hogwarts uniform - gray sweater, scarlet and gold tie, and skirt. Just like in the movies.

I glance over at Natalie, who turns slightly away, trying valiantly to keep a straight face.

“Should I, uh, call you Ginny?” I ask, unsure exactly what the protocol is for something like this.

A snort comes from somewhere in the vicinity to my left, Natalie‘s back to us now.

“No, Hermione.”

I tilt my head, confused. “But I thought-”

“I like to go off script.”

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