Free The Lonesome Young by Lucy Connors Page A

gracelessly. “Am I really so interesting, just because I’m the new girl, that you had to use all of your dubious charms to get me here? Wait—do I need to define the term ‘dubious’?”
    He scowled. “You think I’m stupid? Not quite up to your fancy Whitfield standards?”
    “Unbelievable. I just skipped my first class ever , so I could talk to you, and you’re giving me crap about ‘fancy Whitfield standards’?” I stood up and brushed off my skirt. “You and your Rhodale prejudices can kiss my fancy Whitfield butt.”
    Unexpectedly, he flashed that killer grin that he used so rarely, the one that I’d seen melt freshman girls into swooning puddles in the cafeteria. It ticked me off just thinking about it.
    “Your Whitfield butt? There are several parts of you that I’d like to kiss, Princess, but I wouldn’t have started with your butt .”
    He stood up, too, and stared at my mouth. I suddenly felt way too hot, too confined—claustrophobic, almost—in the dusty stairwell, and I was finding it hard to breathe. I didn’t know whether to kiss him or slap him. Maybe I should do both, like some swooning heroine in an Austen novel.
    Mickey Rhodale was the most infuriating person I’d ever met.
    “Let’s try this again,” I said, trying to be reasonable. “Why did you want to talk to me? Because you kissed me?”
    “You kissed me back. Anyway, you’re good at that, aren’t you? Deflecting your anger?” He raised one eyebrow and grinned down at me, and my pulse went crazy. “Wait. Do I need to define the term ‘deflecting’?”
    I had to laugh at hearing him toss my words back at me. I deserved it; it had been a snotty thing to say.
    “I happen to be the former third grade spelling bee champ, I’ll have you know,” I said loftily, still smiling. “At least until I was robbed at the district level. Just in case you ever wondered, rhinoceros does not end in o-u-s.”
    “You were robbed,” he agreed, and a tingling sensation of warmth circled around inside me, trying to find a home.
    Mickey Rhodale might be dangerous, but he had the most incredible blue eyes I’d ever seen, surrounded by long, dark lashes set in a deeply tanned face that was framed by those too-long waves of silky black hair. He was absolutely, stunningly gorgeous, and I didn’t think he even realized it. Most hot guys acted like they were nature’s gift to women. Mickey had the social graces of a clumsy foal.
    The thought made me relax. I knew more about dealing with horses than boys and, as I’d told Pete, I had far too much sense to fall for the town bad boy.
    Mickey pushed a strand of my hair behind my ear, and my breath caught in my throat.
    Oh, crap, I’m falling for the town bad boy. That kiss . . .
    “What’s going on in that mind of yours?” he drawled, and it took me a few seconds to remember what we’d been talking about, because my attention kept getting distracted by the play of muscle in his arms when he shoved his hands in his pockets.
    “I’m thinking that my family would fall over in a dead faint if they knew I’d skipped class to talk to the most dangerous boy in school,” I admitted, glancing at the door while hiding my shaking hands behind my back.
    Mickey threw back his head and laughed, and I stared stupidly at the column of his throat for a moment before remembering where we were.
    “Will you be quiet? Somebody’s going to catch us in here.”
    He pretended to shudder. “Oh, no, not that! We might get detention .”
    “I know you’re mocking me, and I just want to point out that it’s not really the best way to begin a friendship,” I said, and I could hear how brittle I sounded, but I couldn’t seem to stop myself.
    A corner of his mouth quirked up. “As you wish. Is that what we’re doing? Beginning a friendship?”
    I sighed. “I don’t know. Manhandle me at the fire, mock me in class, smile at me, bait me, kiss me—it’s almost like you’re two different people. Which