Free Wicked Sweet by Mar'ce Merrell Page A

somewhere quiet?”
    I can’t think straight. I know I’m supposed to stay at the door, but I don’t want to hear Annelise again or, worse, run into her. I’m not too sure about going with Parker, either. I allow myself to be led away, through the kitchen, to a doorway. Oh. Please don’t let this be a bedroom.

Will
    The Competitive Edge .
    I see her standing alone for the first time all night and I plan my final move. I weave through the crowd, my focus on the damsel in distress and the final photo challenge. Hip-hop plays. I am in the flow.
    “Chantal.” I set my hand in the small of her back. “Looking for Mr. Right?”
    She tenses up, moves away. “Have you seen Jillian?”
    “No. And it was a joke. The Mr. Right. Never mind.” I follow her through the hallway, the living room, and the kitchen. We stop by the food table. She stands on her tiptoes, trying to spot Jillian in the party surf. I suggest maybe Jillian’s in the backyard.
    “Let’s take a cupcake outside and look for her.” Cupcake must be the magic word because Chantal heads for the back door. We leave the air-conditioning and the heat makes me sweat instantly. I use the bottom of my T-shirt to wipe off my top lip.
    Chantal scans the perimeter and gives up. She leans against the wall, her arms crossed. At least she’s not a moving target.
    “You kicked ass at Cranium,” I say. “A total outwit and outplay performance.”
    “Thanks.” Her arms drop, but she still looks uncomfortable. “It was fun.”
    “You had fun?” I try my biggest smile on her, tilt my head like she’s a puppy.
    “Yeah. Mostly.” She looks at me and away.
    “Oh … I didn’t really think you were Horton the Elephant. I don’t know why I get like that. Embarrassed, I guess. You know what they say. A guy torturing you means he really likes you.”
    “Yeah?” She’s totally not buying it, but at least she’s looking at me.
    This is as perfect a moment as any. I fumble with one hand to set my phone on the camera function. I’m about to reach for her face, pull her into me.
    “What was with your nose picking?”
    Can she not let that go? I shrug. The moment is gone. “Immaturity.” Now what? “Oh. The cupcake.”
    I pull the paper wrapper off the cupcake and split the cake in half. Frosting globs all over my fingers. “Open up.” I hold the cake up.
    Chantal balks.
    “It’s chocolate. Come on.” I shove my half into my mouth and smile. She leans forward, squeezes her eyes shut, and takes what I offer her.
    “See, it’s good. It’s great. Isn’t it?” I know I have to make my move. I get the phone ready and my left hand slides along her cheek. Camera ready, I hold her face in my hand, lean closer.

Parker
    The Laundry Room .
    “H ey, I know it’s not a trendy café or anything, but it’s quiet.” I lift Jillian onto the washing machine and stand in front of her. She giggles, but not in an Annelise flirting way. It’s more relief. Or nerves.
    All I think about is how much I want to kiss her. And this isn’t just about completing a challenge.
    I lean in to get closer.

Jillian
    Oh. No .
    I t’s not that I don’t want to kiss him. I do. I do. The laundry smells of clean soap and Parker’s man smell—sweat and peppermint breath mints. It’s impossible to resist. But …
    “Um …” I lean to the right, out of the path of his lips. “I … just need to ask you a question.”
    “A question?” Parker stands straight, runs his hand through his hair. Oh. That is so hot.
    “Are your parties always like this?”
    “I’m not sure what you mean.” His hands end up at his waist and my eyes hover. Oh … back to business.
    “Um … I’m in the laundry room with you and Chantal is somewhere with Will. I mean, I think she must be with Will. Right?”
    Parker shrugs and he’s adorable. “I’m not sure where Chantal is, but I’m here in the laundry room with you right now because I want to be alone with you. Not in front of everyone