Page 8 of Hers to Kiss
Keke laughed. “No. I just graduated with a double major in theater and dance.” She lifted her chin.
“That’s right.” Pete finally found his voice. “I had heard you graduated. Congratulations. Wow, double major.” He kept his eyes on her face. “That’s impressive.” He meant her as well, but he suppressed the thought. She was still—and always would be—out of his league.
Lea’s gaze volleyed between Pete and Keke. “Oh, so you two know each other?”
“Uh, not really,” Pete supplied, hoping to end it there.
“He’s like my kid brother,” Keke said at the same time.
Pete looked pointedly at Keke, whose eyes widened as if apologizing for making him lose a few cool points in front of the new girl. He felt a weird twist in his gut as the words ‘kid brother’ reverberated in his head.
“Well, it’s really nice to meet the both of you. I promised Mrs. Headley I would help her out in the cafeteria. Do you mind finishing up here?”
“Sure. No worries,” Keke said with a syrupy voice.
“Thanks!” Lea turned to Pete, her lashes dipping low. “Nice to meet you, Petey.”
After she left, Pete threw a pillow at Keke’s head, making contact. “My name is not Petey,” he hissed.
Keke laughed heartily. “It is to me.”
“It’s Peter or Pete. I won’t respond to anything else.”
“Who said I would be calling you? And that’s not at all true.”
She stalked toward him like a beautiful cheetah, graceful yet dangerous. Her wicked grin caused sweat to break out on his forehead.
“If Lea said ‘Petey, please,’ you would come running. Admit it.”
Pete rolled his eyes. “I would not.” He’d walk casually; not run.
“Why didn’t you talk to her more? She seemed…”
“Nice,” Pete finished for her. “Nice is the word you’re looking for.”
Keke’s top lip curled up to one side. “Eh. She’s got cheerleader written all over her.”
“You’re a dancer! How’s that any different?”
“Two totally different things! Dancing is respectable.”
“Oh, and cheering isn’t?” He grinned. “Keke, you’re a snob.”
Keke crossed her arms. “Do you know how much professional cheerleaders earn? Barely anything. They all have full-time jobs. That’s why it’s not respectable.”
“Games aren’t played year-round,” Pete countered. “You expect them to earn a salary like a teacher?”
“And I’m not a snob, Mr. Mute.”
“I couldn’t talk with you hogging the conversation,” Pete muttered.
A deeply gross-sounding snort came from Keke. “I was hogging the conversation? We both know you lose all verbal skills when talking to a beautiful woman.”
Pete dropped onto one of the beds and rested back on his arms. “I’m having no trouble talking to you.”
Keke’s mouth dropped open slightly before she snapped her jaw shut. She smoothed the hair up to her already perfect dancer’s bun that sat on top of her head. Her signature look. She turned her back on him.
Pete sighed. She had a point. His father didn’t bother to teach him anything more than “just talk to them.” And “who cares what you say? They won’t know.” Except some girls he wanted to approach in school weren’t just pretty, but smart. They could hold a conversation about a number of topics. So could he.
