Page 52 of The Secret Girl (Adamson All-Boys Academy 1)
“A bet's a bet,” I say, and then open up the car door before I climb out and hop onto the hood next to Tobias' twin. He takes up my other side, and then the three of us sit there for a while, the engine hot and ticking underneath us.
“Should we get this over with then?” Micah says finally, breaking the silence. He turns to look at me, the cool breeze ruffling up his red-orange hair. His eyes look black in the darkness, and the expression on his full mouth is one part terrifying, two parts enthralling.
I swallow hard, and glance away, out toward the city again. My phone is in my pocket, but I shut it off as soon as I got to the boardwalk. I don't want to know if Monica and Cody messaged me … or if they didn't. That would be worse, I think, finding out that they haven't even bothered to send me a message.
“We probably should,” I reply with a long sigh. On the outside, I'm calm and cool. On the inside … I'm slightly terrified. What if I like kissing Micah better than Cody? Then I really can't pretend that the situation with Spencer is a one-off. If I like kissing Micah, then it means my relationship with Cody is done—regardless of whether my suspicions about him and Monica are true.
Before I can even decide how we should go about this, Micah's curling a muscular arm behind my back and pulling me into his lap. That's when I remember what the twins said about being into MMA—mixed martial arts. I don't know much about it except that every girl I've ever met swoons at the mention.
“Well, hello Chuck,” Micah purrs, and I swear, I can feel Tobias bristling behind me. His twin runs a single finger down the side of my face and then under my jaw, down my throat, and along the edge of the cover-up I've got on over my bathing suit. It's got a sweetheart neckline that he traces reverently before lifting his eyes from my collarbone to my face. “Who knew the short, ugly guy at school was actually a hot chick underneath it all?”
“You're a serious jerk, you know that?” I snap back, reaching up to adjust my glasses before I realize that I've got contacts in. Micah grins and captures my hand in his, bringing it to his lips for a kiss. He kisses each knuckle individually, and then curls his fingers through mine. My heart is racing so damn fast in that moment that I can barely breathe, our eyes locked, his body warm beneath mine.
Finally, he leans in toward me and brushes our lips together, this barely-there tease that leaves me aching and wanting so hard that my mind is obliterated for anything else.
And then the dickhead pulls away, and I'm left blinking in surprise.
“That was it?” I ask, and Micah smiles mischievously at me.
“What? You didn't think I was going to press my advantage and try to tongue you or anything, right?” He touches his long fingers to his chest and bats his eyelashes at me. “I'm just not that sort of guy.” Micah shrugs his shoulders loosely and smirks. “Besides, I think my brother's getting a little jealous.”
Glancing over my shoulder, I catch sight of Tobias staring out at the city with his lips pursed, his fingers tapping an easy rhythm on his knee. He's acting nonchalant, but I can see the tense muscles in his back and shoulders. He flicks his eyes our direction and shrugs.
“Jealous? Please.” Tobias turns toward me and reaches out, sliding his thumb over my aching lips. His green eyes flicker with mischief. “I already told you: we share with each other. And that's not hyperbole, Chuck.” He leans in close, and I swear, my heart's about to beat right out of my chest and go hopping across the yellow hood of the Lamborghini.
“Oh, Tobias,” Micah purrs, reaching out and flicking his brother in the forehead. “I won the race, not you. And I don't have to share my win.”
Tobias' eyes narrow, and he frowns, but I'm so damn curious … I lean forward and kiss him, this pathetic, sloppy teenage kiss that I know I'll never be able to live down.
But holy shit, it feels good. Real. And honestly? So utterly and completely different from Micah's.
My face is burning with embarrassment as Tobias blinks at me in surprise, and I slide off Micah's lap, and off the edge of the car, landing on my feet on the soft earth.
“I was promised pancakes.” I purse my lips and glance over at the city and the ocean beyond it, gleaming silver under the moon. “Oh, and boy clothes.”
“Ugly boy clothes,” the boys correct in a lazy drawl.
I roll my eyes, but they're both hopping off the car, and the moment has passed.
