Free Flat-Out Celeste by Jessica Park Page B

an average build, without the bulging muscles or tattoos she’d just read about in Dallas’s romance book, but she found his physique to be entirely flawless.
    “Wow,” he said slowly. “Wow.”
    She did not know what he meant by this, but she didn’t get time to wonder for long, because the step to the side that she took to put distance between them caused her to stumble. Justin’s arms were under hers before she even got close to hitting the ground.
    Well, there. Now her humiliation was complete. Yes, perhaps vomiting or something else having to do with body fluids could take this one step further, so she should perhaps be thankful for the little saving graces. At least now she had something to say at the Thanksgiving table tomorrow when they listed what they were grateful for. Wonderful.
    “You okay?” he asked as he lifted her back onto her feet.
    This time, she couldn’t stop herself from looking up at him.
    “I am,” she said breathlessly. “Thank you.”
    She waited for him to drop his arms, but he didn’t, even as she trembled. “I know you… I remember,” he said.
    Neither of them moved.
    A shattering plate sounded loudly, immediately followed by the hiss of water boiling over onto the stove.
    “Roger! The pasta!” Erin yelled. “And, Matthew, please clean up that dish that you dropped. What is wrong with you two? Snap out of it.”
    Witnesses, Celeste remembered. There were witnesses to whatever strange occurrence had just transpired. “I… I must change outfits now. I shall be back soon.”
    She made it to the hall and out of sight without incident, for which she was grateful. Her boots came off after ample tugging, and only then did she attempt the flight of stairs to her room. Stripping off the catsuit took a few minutes, but it felt heavenly to be out of that horrid thing. She didn’t have time to shower, so the silly neon red hair would have to stay. Putting on a hat would just make it look as though she was trying to hide the color. Plus, Celeste was not the Fedora or cowboy hat—or any hat—sort of a girl. A low ponytail at the nape of her neck would have to do. Loose jeans and a taupe open cardigan over a plain shirt helped her mood slightly, although she was still noticeably shaky.
    “Stop it,” she ordered herself. This silly physiological reaction was unnecessary. So what if he knew that she was the girl who curtsied to his bow? So what if she’d enjoyed his debonair performance outside Border Cafe? She would salvage this situation by simply going downstairs, pretending that her hair was back to normal, and conduct herself like the smart young woman that she was. He was a Barton College student liaison here to inform her and her family about the school and encourage her to apply. That’s all. She would listen and nod. Then she would never have to see him again, and this entire fiasco could be put in the past.
    After dinner, she would thank him for staying to eat a monochromatic meal with them, make it very clear that there was no need to continue communication because she was not going to apply to Barton, and then she would send him on his way before things got even more out of hand. And she would never walk down Church Street past Border Cafe again.
    For some reason, the idea of eliminating Justin from her world made her sad, but she was resigned that it needed to happen.

BLUR
    CELESTE WAS NEVER going to forgive her family for abandoning her after dinner and leaving her alone with Justin. She was quite sure that Matt did not have any schoolwork that had to be done on the night before Thanksgiving “come hell or dead turkeys,” and her parents’ last-minute trip to the grocery store seemed highly suspicious. There was no plausible reason for them to run off like this¸ but she was now stuck with Justin. As much as she wanted him gone, she couldn’t just throw him out as good manners should always prevail.
    What was he still doing here anyway? Dinner was over; he’d given