Read Online Curse of the Wickeds (The Cinderella Society, Episode 2) by Kay Cassidy - Free Book Online
Authors: Kay Cassidy
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Ryan and Matt leaned their heads together for a minute, did some kind of guy bump-bump-pop handshake thing, and Matt waved a friendly good-bye.
Ryan helped me off the tee area to give the other players more room. I leaned close to Ryan’s ear, his warm hunky scent filling my lungs. “He’s adorable. Is he your neighbor?”
Ryan kept his eye on the players, obviously trying to get tips on how to beat me on the hole. I wasn’t sure he’d even heard me until he bent down toward my ear. “I’m his mentor.”
“You’re a mentor?” Could he be any more Charming? “That’s awesome. Especially with school and football and working two jobs.”
Ryan shrugged off the compliment. “He’s a good kid—just has a rough home life. He’s an only child, so I’m more like a big brother.”
“Well, I think it’s really cool.” How many times had I wished for a big sister to talk to? Yet another reason I was grateful for Sarah Jane.
Ryan still wasn’t looking at me, so I turned his head. “You’re my hero, Ryan Steele.”
Big mistake. We’d been whispering, so our heads were close together. Now our faces were inches apart. His lips were so close I lost my breath, prayed he’d lean in. But one look in his eyes, at the pain there, and I knew something was wrong. His blue eyes pierced mine, and he closed them before giving me a quick peck on the forehead. “You’re up, Equal Girl.”
It took a few more holes for the tension to ease. I’d never been more grateful for the easy banter and playful rivalry. The last thing I wanted to do was smack down the magic.
We ended up tying after twelve holes—twenty-five to twenty-five—which seemed a fitting end to the game. Ryan handed our clubs and balls to the attendant, then treated us to the massive Winner’s Circle sundae: a mountain of ice cream large enough to hide small children. Only on a date could you eat dessert before dinner and not feel the slightest bit guilty. Would the perks never end?
We opted for one sundae and two spoons and took it outside to the bench by the go-cart track. I had the bowl balanced on my lap, Ryan had his arm around my shoulder, and every few bites our spoons would click together. He had to lean into me so he didn’t drip ice cream on my dress or his pants. It made my insides zing every time he did. Every time, like clockwork.
Tick, tock, zing . Tick, tock, zing .
If I were that kind of girl (and by that kind of girl I mean Fake Blondie), I would’ve ditched the sundae and pulled him into the bushes next to the parking lot. But of course, I’m the polar opposite of that kind of girl, so I kept the ice cream bowl on my legs and suppressed shivers each time he leaned in.
When we reached the bottom of the huge bowl, we headed for the car to get to the lake before the hot dog vendor closed up for the night. Not that I was hungry anymore, but an evening stroll by the lake with Ryan? Sign me up.
We’d parked near the road, and I stood unusually close to Ryan, hoping for a smooch before he deposited me in the car. Unfortunately, Ryan had better control than I had—or didn’t feel the same urges I did—so I sat down feeling like I’d somehow failed a test. Should I have made the first move? Was the new Jess a first-move kind of girl? I’d never been wired that way before. That was more Gennifer’s territory than mine.
He stepped back and swung the door closed as a dark blur shot past us, heading straight for the main road. I thought it was a dog, but before I’d even registered that it was a tiny rug rat, Ryan was sprinting after it.
Everything froze for a second, then seemed to go in slow motion. The little boy running through the grass next to the gravel road, the semi coming over the hill at the other end of the complex, the mother’s screams from the parking lot. Ryan trying to close the gap in time. I watched the disaster unfold like a movie. Fear paralyzed me, rooting my butt to the seat as the truck came barreling
Ryan helped me off the tee area to give the other players more room. I leaned close to Ryan’s ear, his warm hunky scent filling my lungs. “He’s adorable. Is he your neighbor?”
Ryan kept his eye on the players, obviously trying to get tips on how to beat me on the hole. I wasn’t sure he’d even heard me until he bent down toward my ear. “I’m his mentor.”
“You’re a mentor?” Could he be any more Charming? “That’s awesome. Especially with school and football and working two jobs.”
Ryan shrugged off the compliment. “He’s a good kid—just has a rough home life. He’s an only child, so I’m more like a big brother.”
“Well, I think it’s really cool.” How many times had I wished for a big sister to talk to? Yet another reason I was grateful for Sarah Jane.
Ryan still wasn’t looking at me, so I turned his head. “You’re my hero, Ryan Steele.”
Big mistake. We’d been whispering, so our heads were close together. Now our faces were inches apart. His lips were so close I lost my breath, prayed he’d lean in. But one look in his eyes, at the pain there, and I knew something was wrong. His blue eyes pierced mine, and he closed them before giving me a quick peck on the forehead. “You’re up, Equal Girl.”
It took a few more holes for the tension to ease. I’d never been more grateful for the easy banter and playful rivalry. The last thing I wanted to do was smack down the magic.
We ended up tying after twelve holes—twenty-five to twenty-five—which seemed a fitting end to the game. Ryan handed our clubs and balls to the attendant, then treated us to the massive Winner’s Circle sundae: a mountain of ice cream large enough to hide small children. Only on a date could you eat dessert before dinner and not feel the slightest bit guilty. Would the perks never end?
We opted for one sundae and two spoons and took it outside to the bench by the go-cart track. I had the bowl balanced on my lap, Ryan had his arm around my shoulder, and every few bites our spoons would click together. He had to lean into me so he didn’t drip ice cream on my dress or his pants. It made my insides zing every time he did. Every time, like clockwork.
Tick, tock, zing . Tick, tock, zing .
If I were that kind of girl (and by that kind of girl I mean Fake Blondie), I would’ve ditched the sundae and pulled him into the bushes next to the parking lot. But of course, I’m the polar opposite of that kind of girl, so I kept the ice cream bowl on my legs and suppressed shivers each time he leaned in.
When we reached the bottom of the huge bowl, we headed for the car to get to the lake before the hot dog vendor closed up for the night. Not that I was hungry anymore, but an evening stroll by the lake with Ryan? Sign me up.
We’d parked near the road, and I stood unusually close to Ryan, hoping for a smooch before he deposited me in the car. Unfortunately, Ryan had better control than I had—or didn’t feel the same urges I did—so I sat down feeling like I’d somehow failed a test. Should I have made the first move? Was the new Jess a first-move kind of girl? I’d never been wired that way before. That was more Gennifer’s territory than mine.
He stepped back and swung the door closed as a dark blur shot past us, heading straight for the main road. I thought it was a dog, but before I’d even registered that it was a tiny rug rat, Ryan was sprinting after it.
Everything froze for a second, then seemed to go in slow motion. The little boy running through the grass next to the gravel road, the semi coming over the hill at the other end of the complex, the mother’s screams from the parking lot. Ryan trying to close the gap in time. I watched the disaster unfold like a movie. Fear paralyzed me, rooting my butt to the seat as the truck came barreling
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