How to Kiss Your Crush Read online

  How to Kiss Your Crush

  Amanda Ashby

  Copyright © 2019 by Amanda Ashby

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Edited by Christina Phillips

  Copy Edited by Serena Clark

  Proofread by Amy Hart @amyhartproofreading

  Cover Design by Barry Holt

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Epilogue

  Also by Amanda Ashby

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  1

  “Benched?”

  Zac Mackenzie rubbed his jaw as Coach Yardley’s words echoed around the tiny office. How could he be benched? School had only been back for two hours and soccer tryouts were three weeks away. And unlike half the team, he hadn’t spent the summer eating junk food or sitting on a couch gaming. He’d been away on a camping trip with his folks and had kept up his training, jogging four times a week. Hell, he’d even done fifty freaking burpees most days to make sure he came back for junior year fighting fit.

  All so he could be captain of the varsity team.

  None of which could happen if he was benched.

  “You’re one of my best players, but your off-the-field behavior isn’t acceptable.”

  “Is this because of the party on Saturday?”

  “Party?” Coach’s face was granite. There’d been a bonfire at the beach to celebrate the last weekend of freedom before school started. Someone had brought along fireworks, and it wasn’t like anyone was hurt. Just good harmless explosions. Well, until the police had shown up.

  But if Coach hadn’t heard about the party, it could only mean one thing. He knows about the fight.

  Zac’s finger drifted to his right eye. Most of the bruising had gone, but there was still a smudge of purple running underneath it. What a mess.

  Myles Anderson was one of Zac’s closest friends, not to mention his teammate. But when Myles and his girlfriend Kennedy broke up a couple of months ago, she’d drunkenly tried to kiss Zac at a party. He knew it was to make Myles jealous, and he’d shut it down before anything could happen. The next day when Kennedy sobered up, she begged him not to say anything. He’d happily agreed, relieved to forget all about it.

  In a surprise to no one, Kennedy and Myles got back together, but what he hadn’t expected was a series of frantic phone calls from her while he’d been away. Someone had seen them at the party. Myles knew about the kiss. He was mad. Really mad. Especially when Kennedy said Zac had instigated it and she’d been the one to shut it down.

  The fight had happened the day Zac arrived back in Cricket Bay.

  Hell hath no fury like a teammate spurned.

  “One rule, Zac. That’s all I have. One rule.” Coach folded his thick arms, mouth set in a hard line. “There’s no team without respect. And if you can’t respect your teammates—”

  “I do. Myles is a friend. I’ve tried to make it right, but he won’t speak to me,” he said, suddenly feeling too cramped in the basement office. The walls were covered in newspaper articles and photos of past students who’d gone on to play in the national league. And the crowning glory, Steven Lewis, who’d briefly signed for an English club before an injury had forced him into an early retirement.

  “Did it ever occur to you not to do it in the first place?” Coach growled.

  Zac clenched his fingers. He’d done a lot of dumb things, but cheating on a friend wasn’t one of them.

  “Don’t worry, the message has been received loud and clear. I’m going to turn over a new leaf. No more messing up. But it’s only the first day back at school. You can’t bench me.”

  As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he knew they were a mistake. Telling Coach what he could, and couldn’t, do never ended well.

  Unspent energy skittered along his skin like a fall breeze. He tapped his foot against the floor.

  Unlike his brainy twin sister, Via, who got As in every subject, there was only one thing Zac was good at. Kicking a round-shaped ball. It was his one shot at getting into a decent college. Of making sure he didn’t become a washed-up jock who looked back on school as being the best time of his life.

  “I’ve benched Myles too. The pair of you are juniors this year. I have scouts coming, and you think they don’t care how you conduct yourself off the field? Things are changing, Zac. One of my boys from two years ago lost his scholarship because he posted an inappropriate tweet. You’re a good player. You could even be great. But not if you carry on like this.”

  “I’ll sort it out with Myles, and I won’t screw up again. I swear.”

  “Don’t tell me, show me. You can train with the preseason squad, but if I don’t see a real improvement, you won’t be doing tryouts. Clear?”

  “Crystal.” Zac stood, his chest tight. As he walked out of the office, his mind churned. He’d convince Kennedy to tell Myles the truth. Playing Doctor Phil wasn’t his superpower, but he needed to get back on the team, and that meant doing whatever it took.

  xxxx

  Norah Richmond usually loved the first day back at school. New books. New classes. New opportunities. But as she stared at the blank signup sheet sitting on the card table, it reminded her that it was also a new chance to look like a weirdo.

  Wearing a T-shirt with a toilet on the front wasn’t helping.

  Her phone rang and she picked it up.

  “How’s it going?” Piper asked from the safety of the library.

  “Terrible. I have three candy wrappers, a half-eaten hotdog, and a wad of gum. But no volunteers.”

  She’d set up in the corridor outside the cafeteria, thinking it would get her lots of foot traffic. Instead, her card table had been used as a trash can, and the only interest she’d had was in the basket of muffins she’d baked to entice students to help organize the charity auction. The muffins had all gone, without anyone being remotely interested in raising money to buy toilets for villages in Cambodia.

  “Want me to come and throw things at them?”

  “No.” Norah shook her head. They’d been best friends since third grade, and while Piper would help behind the scenes, she didn’t like ‘peopling’ much. It was the same with their close friend, Gareth. Norah couldn’t blame them. People were complicated.

  Especially the ones at Cricket Bay High.

  So far, a cheerleader had told her that toilets were gross, while a sophomore said they preferred to be involved in something sexier than sanitation.

  “Okay, but don’t freak out. We’ll do whatever it takes to make this auction awesome. Even if it kills us. Which of course it might do, because, you know, all the talking and smiling and stuff. But it will be worth it,” Piper promised and finished the call.

  Norah put down her phone and retrieved the crumpled white packet from her messenger bag. The jellybeans were for emergencies only, but if this wasn’t an emergency, she didn’t know what was.

  She pulled one out. Green. Not one of the most popular flavors, but Norah liked to thin
k she was an equal opportunity jellybean connoisseur. Plus, green was good for brainstorming. Sugar exploded in her mouth as her mind whirled with ways to convince people to help.

  Usually she did her fundraising on her own, baking brownies, babysitting, and working weekends at her stepfather’s car dealership. But over the summer she’d travelled with a youth group to Cambodia and seen how much still needed to be done.

  She took a second jellybean. Red. Good for focus. As she chewed, she turned her attention to the draft letter she’d been working on. She’d started sending them to local businesses to request donations for the auction. She hadn’t had any responses, apart from Piper’s offer to hack any website, and a two-hundred-dollar car detailing certificate from Greg, her stepdad.

  Not enough to pay for even one toilet, let alone the fifty she’d pledged.

  Me and my great ideas.

  Definitely a three jellybean crisis. She reached for another one as the cafeteria door swung open with a crash. A shrill voice filled the empty corridor.

  “Don’t even think of speaking to me, Zac. You’re dead to me. Do you hear? Dead.”

  “Everyone can hear you, Kennedy.” Zac Mackenzie backed out of the cafeteria and stood on the threshold, arms folded. He was facing away from Norah, his gaze firmly fixed back into the cafeteria.

  Oh, and he didn’t have a shirt on.

  Norah blinked.

  Sure, she’d seen half-naked guys. After all, she lived around the corner from the beach. But Zac Mackenzie wasn’t most guys.

  He was…well…really gorgeous.

  And yes, she was a social activist whose calling was far more important than drooling over cute boys…but…had she mentioned he didn’t have a shirt on? His skin was still golden and glowing from the recent summer, and muscles rippled under his shoulder blades as he held up his hands in a defensive move. A second later, a cup of soda hit him squarely in the cheek.

  It splashed up over his face before a stream of orange liquid and ice cubes trailed down his body, pooling at his feet while the cup landed nearby with a soft thunk.

  “Seriously, Kennedy?” He took an instinctive step back, still without looking.

  Norah opened her mouth, but it was too late.

  His leg hit the card table and his foot slid out from under him. Instincts took over and she jumped out of the way as the table crumpled under his weight. With an ooompff, he landed on the polished linoleum floor, closely followed by her flyers, the empty muffin basket, and worst of all—her jellybeans.

  An explosion of shouts and whistles followed, and the corridor filled with curious students, all spilling out of the cafeteria to see what had happened. Norah pressed her back to the wall as Kennedy Quinn stepped through the crowd.

  She was as tiny as Norah was tall, and her rich auburn hair gleamed like a polished penny. Her full mouth was pulled tight as she glared at the prostrated Zac.

  His eyes were shut, but his chest muscles were bunched.

  “In case you haven’t got the message, Zac. Your apology is not acceptable. What you did was wrong,” she said in a surprisingly loud voice before flicking her shimmering hair over her shoulder and storming away, followed by a stream of students. After several more seconds, Zac let out a groan.

  “Have they gone?” he asked, not bothering to open his eyes.

  “Most of them,” Norah said, not quite sure what she should be doing. “Are you okay?”

  “Let’s see, I just got screamed at in the middle of the cafeteria and had a milkshake thrown at me, followed by a soda. Who knew Kennedy had such a good throwing arm? Want my advice? Don’t get involved with the opposite sex.”

  Norah blinked.

  She was five-foot nine with straight dark hair and couldn’t flirt to save her life. Staying away from the opposite sex wasn’t something she’d ever had to worry about.

  “Guess I’m lucky I’m not dating,” she said as he slowly opened his eyes. He gave her a lazy grin, still lying on the ground. She’d grown up with Zac and his twin sister, Via, but she’d only spoken to him a dozen times over the years. Partly because he was so far out of her league, and partly because talking to people wasn’t her specialty subject.

  Which explained why she hadn’t found any volunteers.

  “Hey, Norah. I didn’t realize it was you. Have a good summer?”

  “Sure, I guess,” she managed to say. Was she being punked? She peered around for a camera. If there was one, it was well hidden. She turned back to him.

  His thick blond hair had stuck together in clumps from the sugary soda, and droplets glistened on his dark lashes, which only made his agate blue eyes gleam even more.

  There was already talk he’d make soccer captain this year, and while Norah didn’t know much about the sport, he sure looked like he must be a great player. Tall and lean with toned abs. Her mouth went dry as he eased himself into a sitting position, his arms resting on his knees.

  “So, that was fun,” he said.

  “Should I take you to the nurse?”

  “Think I’ll live.” He lifted his arm to reveal a half-crushed red jellybean clinging to it. “But I’m not sure about this guy. Sorry about the mess.”

  “It’s okay.”

  “No, it’s not. I’m meant to be fixing messes, not making them. If Kennedy wasn’t pissed at me, she’d have said sorry, too.” He hauled himself up with athletic grace, muscles rippling as he moved. He towered over her, and she was forced to crane her neck to return his gaze.

  “She seemed pretty upset. Did you guys have a fight?”

  Everyone at school knew Zac didn’t date. Not ever. But he did flirt. A lot. Was that what had happened? Had he been flirting with Kennedy and she wanted more?

  His jaw tightened, and for the first time she noticed a slim crescent of purple bruising below his right eye. As if he’d been hit.

  “I wouldn’t say fight…more like she decided to tell the entire cafeteria what she thought of me. In graphic detail.” He let out a pained groan. “Including Coach. Oh, man, I’m so screwed.”

  “Why, what’s your coach got to do with it?”

  “It’s a long story, but basically she couldn’t have picked a worse day to make a scene.” He gave her a rueful smile and picked up the table. The legs were bent, but he managed to flick them all back out and prop it up.

  “You don’t have to do that,” she said as she gathered up the clipboard, scattered flyers, and empty muffin basket.

  “Least I can do.” He retrieved the tablecloth that had fallen to the ground and awkwardly smoothed out the creases, then bent down and scooped up the rest of the mess and dumped it into the nearby trash.

  “Well, thanks.”

  “Sure. Though I’m the one who owes you for not freaking out. Most people would have been pissed that I ruined their—” He paused and glanced at the table, as if trying to figure out exactly what she’d been doing. Then his gaze drifted to her T-shirt. He blinked. “Are you wearing a toilet?”

  Yup. What else would I be wearing while having a random conversation with the guy I’ve been crushing on for years?

  “I’m organizing a charity auction.”

  “For toilets?” His gaze met hers, and she picked up one of the flyers that hadn’t been drowned in soda. He was the first person who’d actually asked what she was doing. Even if it was only out of guilt.

  “In some countries less than half the population have their own toilet. Not only does it lead to sickness, but women and girls are often attacked while walking to community facilities. I want people to know how much we take sanitation for granted. That we need to help.”

  If only she could talk as easily about everything else.

  His brow shot up. “Wait. You actually went out there to build them?” He studied the flyer, which included a photo of her standing in the middle of a huge concrete pipe.

  “Only for two weeks,” she admitted. “It was enough to see how much still needs to be done. That’s why I’m organizing the auction. I need
volunteers to help get donations from the community. Oh, and we’re also doing a Buy a Date auction. I’m hoping Principal Watson will volunteer.”

  “She won’t. I’ve had enough detentions to know she’s not the fun and games kind of principal. Who else have you got?” He picked up the board and studied it. On it were the names of thirty local businesses she’d already contacted. And the column where she’d planned to tick when they agreed was empty. “Not going so good, huh?”

  “I’m still waiting to hear back from people. I’m sure it will be fine,” she said, not wanting to admit the truth. That she had no volunteers or donations. All she had was permission to use the school hall.

  “Looking good, Zac.” A blonde-haired girl walked past, licking her lips suggestively. Norah blinked. If that was flirting, no wonder she couldn’t do it.

  “Hey,” he said and followed the girl’s gaze down to his chest. He let out a groan as he turned back to Norah. “Kennedy’s first shot was with a milkshake. My T-shirt was dripping, so I took it off. I’m starting to regret it. What are the chances no one will notice I’m not wearing clothes?”

  Negative six million.

  Several more girls slowed to look at him. Norah couldn’t blame them. She pressed her lips together as she glanced at her own T-shirt. She’d optimistically had four more printed, hoping to give them out to her fellow volunteers. They were still sitting in the small box under her chair.

  “I might be able to help. If you don’t mind wearing a toilet.”

  An amused smile tugged at his mouth. “Anyone ever tell you that you’re good at talking dirty?”

  She swallowed. On account of hardly ever being able to speak around him, she’d never experienced Zac’s flirting firsthand. Until now.