One Little Kiss (Christian Romance) Read online

  He left her to go to Sunday school, and Tessa sank back into the couch. What was she going to do? None of their other guys could sing like Rhett, or if they could, they were hiding it behind an aura of "coolness" that would never let them get up onstage and act silly.

  "Your wrist is going to fall off if you don't stop." Henry sat down beside her, the side of his knee bumping against hers.

  She stopped twisting the bracelet when the raw skin began to ache. Henry took her arm and unhooked the bracelet, then grabbed her other wrist and redid the clasp. Her stomach flipped when his hands touched her. Stop it. He’s only a friend. If only her body would get the message.

  “What’s going on?” Henry asked.

  "Rhett's being deployed."

  Henry ran an agitated hand across his face. "So no prince?"

  "No prince."

  "Maybe we could do it without him. Have it be a story about a girl who is searching for..." He struggled to come up with something to say, waving one hand in the air like the ideas might fly to him faster that way. "Yeah. I've got nothing."

  "It's called The Anura Prince. We have to have a prince."

  "Maybe Layla could dress up like a boy."

  "And sing those low notes?"

  "We'll write it up an octave."

  Tessa giggled at the mental picture forming, even though nothing about this situation was in any way funny. "I think we'd be making an unintentional social statement."

  "Even better," Henry said. "Let's shake things up a bit."

  She groaned. "No. We need a prince and there’s no one." She dropped her head into her hands, all of the stresses crashing down around her at once. First Jenkins moving home, then her failing grades and Logan's flirting, and now the prince backing out. "Maybe it's a sign we should cancel the whole thing."

  "We'll think of something," Henry said. He nudged her leg with his knee. "Hey. What else is wrong?"

  "Everything," she said. "But I'll survive." She stood and held out a hand to help Henry up. "Come on. If we go now, we can make it for the last half of Sunday school."

  He watched her with furrowed brows, but let her help pull him up from the couch. "I'm here to help if you need me."

  What she needed was a little more Henry-singing therapy. Wait. She jolted to a stop and it took Henry a few steps to realize she wasn't with him.

  She reached forward grabbed his arm. "You can sing."

  He shrugged with a confused expression. "A little. Hymns mostly."

  "No. You sing really well. And you're a boy."

  "Last time I checked."

  "And you have the play mostly memorized..."

  Understanding dawned and with it, he shook his head. "No way, Tessa."

  "Please!" She realized she was tugging on his arm, but didn't stop. "You're the only one who could play the prince on this short of notice."

  He closed his eyes then opened them and looked heavenward. "You have got to be kidding me."

  "I will owe you so big," she said.

  "Why are you always trying to get me to do things I don't want to do?"

  "Maybe I was sent to you to help with your personal growth."

  "Were you sent to me? Because I went to your apartment first, so technically, I was sent to you." He folded his arms in challenge.

  She leaned close. "Maybe you were sent to me for this exact moment."

  His mouth ticked upward into the promise of a smile and she held her breath.

  "Unlikely." Then, almost like he'd known it was inevitable from the beginning, he exhaled loudly. "But I'll do it anyway. With conditions. I'm choosing my own costume and we're adding a scene where someone gets thrown against a wall."

  For the second time in their short friendship, Tessa found herself throwing her arms around him in a grateful hug. "Thank you!" His arms wrapped around her, holding her close. Henry-hug therapy was as effective as Henry-singing therapy. Maybe even a tiny bit better. Her troubles seemed to melt away for a moment while she was in his arms.

  Too soon, his arms dropped and she reluctantly stepped away.

  "But remember, you owe me," he said.

  "This is your play too," she argued, but his firm arm stopped her from walking further. "Fine. I owe you."

  "Thank you." He paused outside of the Sunday school door and looked down at his hands and then behind him like he'd lost something. "Uh, I left my scriptures somewhere. Save me a seat while I go look for them?"

  "I'll help you find them, since I owe you and all."

  "Thank you. But this doesn't make us even." He cocked his head toward the chapel. "They're most likely either on the bench I was sitting at or I left them in the truck when I ran out there after sacrament."

  "Give me your keys. I'll check your truck." He tossed her the key and they parted ways at the door. The warm breeze outside felt nice against her skin after being in the overly-air-conditioned church for the past hour and a half. Whoever ran the thermostat had to be wearing a suit and not a knee-length skirt and short-sleeved shirt. The sky had darkened with the promise of a rain storm. Those were always her favorite. There was almost nothing she liked more on rainy afternoons than being able to hole up in her apartment and read. Reading an anatomy book wasn’t ideal, but at least she had extra time to study for her test.

  Henry's truck was easy to spot in the back of the lot. She unlocked it and sure enough, sitting on the driver's seat were his well-used scriptures. She grabbed them and locked the door before heading back. As she got close to the church, she heard voices around the corner. Curious, she glanced over and saw Logan and Dawn sitting at the curb, half hidden by a car, talking. Before she could call out to them, Dawn leaned close to Logan and kissed him. Logan pulled back, but Dawn wound her hand behind his head, initiating another kiss. Tessa waited for Logan to push her away, but he didn’t.

  When Tessa had first moved into her apartment, she'd been running down the stairs and tripped, tumbling the rest of the way down and knocking the wind out of her. This felt similar. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't look away. She couldn't move.

  Henry appeared at her side. He grinned when he saw that she had his scriptures, but then he saw Logan and Dawn, who still hadn't come up for air. Henry's expression turned stormy and he tugged her away from the sight and back around the corner to the other side of the building before storming toward them. She rushed and grabbed his arm. "Where are you going?

  "To chat with my roommate. And maybe punch him in the face."

  "No." Although the idea appealed to her on many levels, she couldn’t actually picture Henry punching anyone. She sat on the curb and wrapped her arms around her knees. "Today is awful."

  "One little hit." He pantomimed bringing his fist against someone's face. "It would make us both feel better."

  “Henry. No.” When he sat down beside her she dropped her head onto his shoulder for comfort. "We never said we were exclusive. I mean, I assumed we were, but we'd never talked about it or anything."

  "Don't," he said shortly. "You've been dating for two months. He's a moron."

  Was he? Or was she the moron? "I was going to ask him to meet my family tomorrow."

  He didn't respond other than to slip his arm around her waist and pull her closer. Tessa let him, grateful that God had led Henry into her life right when she'd need a good friend. She'd teased Henry that it was so he could fill in for the play, but maybe this was the reason he was sent to her. Or things like this. Henry always seemed to be there when she needed someone—which lately was all the time. Two months ago when she'd seen him eat a termite in her apartment, she never would have thought she'd be thanking God for sending Henry. The thought made her laugh, which opened up the emotional floodgates. Her laugh cut off into a cry. Not an ugly cry or a loud cry, just a sniffly one that made her wish she was the kind of person who carried tissues with her.

  A handkerchief appeared in front of her face.

  "Seriously?" she said, wondering why anything Henry did surprised her anymore. "I didn't think an
yone but grandpas used these."

  "They're kind of popular among the PhDs."

  She snorted a laugh and really wished for a tissue.

  "It's totally clean. Come to the dark side." He shook the cloth in front of her face and she finally snagged it from him.

  "I'm throwing this away when I'm done with it," she warned. She blew her nose a couple of times and folded the used handkerchief underneath her leg. If only Jenkins could see me now, she thought sarcastically. "What am I going to tell my family?"

  "That you broke up."

  "It's not that simple. I talked him up so much. My parents are expecting me to bring home a successful, handsome doctor." She moaned. "Worse, my brother is expecting me to screw up again. He won't even be surprised when I don't bring Logan." She didn't know which reaction would be worse: her parents' disappointment or Jenkins' smugness.

  "Logan’s not that successful and handsome," Henry said. "He winks like a man with a possessed eye. And he has to cut his nose hairs every morning."

  "Stop." She had noticed the winking thing on their last date, how he winked at every girl he happened to make eye contact with. But the other... "He does not have nose hairs."

  "He does. Long, nasty ones he leaves in the sink." He faked a gag, and his arm tightened around her almost imperceptibly, making her feel even more secure. She took in what was becoming a familiar scent, a pleasant combination of mint and spice she could breathe in all day.

  "I know what you're trying to do, Henry, and it's not going to work. Logan is amazing and I don't even know why I'm surprised he's already moved on from me."

  "Listen, Tessa." Henry's voice lost its teasing tone. "Logan is the screw-up here, not you. He's never been good enough for you and this proves it. Go to your parents with your head held high and know that one of the least screwed-up things you've done in your life is seeing what kind of person Logan really is and dropping him before it's too late."

  Warmth filled her at his words even though she knew her family wouldn't see it that way. "Thank you." At least someone believed in her. "You're a great friend."

  "Yep. Friend. That's me."

  She ignored the ironic way he said it, knowing he'd have girls banging down his door before long. He was probably so used to being the friend that he'd never known anything different. Had he even kissed a girl before?

  Probably not.

  Logan had though. Several girls all within days of each other. She let out huff. "What kind of person ditches Sunday school to make out in the parking lot?" What kind of guy kisses another girl behind your back?

  "The kind of guy who winks an average of twelve point three times a day."

  She lifted her head to look at him. Something about the way he said it made her feel like he wasn't giving her a hypothetical number.

  "I wish I drove today. I want to go home." Sunday school was almost over and she didn't want to have to face Logan and try to pretend that she hadn't seen anything. Or worse, confront them about what she had seen. She'd rather bury her head under her pillow and pretend that her life was turning out how she'd planned.

  The first drop of rain hit her nose when she stood. Another followed, until the skies opened up and fat drops fell over them. She tipped her head back and let it fall on her face, glad for the moisture they always needed. In Arizona, where they were in a constant drought and had more fasts for rain growing up than anything else, she had learned to love the rain and look at it as a gift every time. Rain and Henry. Two gifts on a very discouraging day.

  "I'll take you home," Henry said.

  Chapter 19

  The next night at dinner, Jenkins would not shut up about Logan. Asking where he was, if he was real, why Tessa couldn't hold on to a guy. Mom had given her an inscrutable expression, like she wondered if maybe Jenkins was right and Tessa had been making him up all along.

  Tessa escaped into the living room with Katie the first moment she could. She blew raspberries onto her niece’s tummy, loving her short baby laugh and the feel of her soft skin. Could she really wait another decade before having a baby?

  “Hiding out in shame?” Jenkins asked from the doorway. He strolled into the room and sat in the leather recliner, crossing one leg over the other. Just the two of them. Great. “Another classic Tessa moment: talk something up and then not follow through.”

  "I follow through with things." She almost told him about the road show, but stopped last minute. That kind of thing wouldn't impress him, but add more fuel to his fire.

  How could she defend against something she half-believed herself?

  Most days she didn’t know if she’d make it through her undergrad program, much less med school. She’d never been in a relationship longer than a few months, and had never felt a deep connection with anyone she’d dated.

  Would she ever have even a portion of what Jenkins had: a successful career, a family who loved him, and an abundance of confidence? She believed she might, but her brother obviously didn’t.

  Jenkins reclined in the chair, resting his hands behind his head. "Words only mean so much, Tess. It's action that counts. And your actions show you floundering just as much now as you did as a freshman."

  “I didn’t flounder as a freshman.” She’d gotten into the University of Arizona on a full scholarship, and had known her major right away. The large class sizes had taken a while to adjust to, as had sitting most of the day when she had been a lot more active in high school, but overall, she’d had a great experience.

  He raised a brow. “You gained thirty pounds and dropped out of the track team because of it.”

  “I dropped the track team because I didn’t have time for it.”

  “Okay,” he said, clearly not believing her. “I’m just saying. Another example of you quitting something early. And you’re still paying for that mistake.” His gaze flashed over her so quickly, she wasn’t sure at first what he was implying. And then it rushed at her all at once.

  Jenkins Alexander, once again arriving onto the scene to point out all of Tessa’s flaws under the guise of helping her see the error of her ways.

  His eyes flashed with pity. “It’s okay to admit that you’re in over your head.”

  “But I’m not,” Tessa said through her teeth. Even if she was, she’d never admit it to him.

  “Whatever you say.” It was the patronizing tone that got to her. The teasing got on her nerves, but the condescension made her question everything.

  She took a deep breath, set Kate down in her bouncer seat, and walked toward the door.

  "Where are you going?" he asked.

  "Home."

  "We were having a good conversation."

  "No. You were poking fun at me." she asked even though she knew she should keep her mouth shut.

  He actually had the gall to look surprised. “When?”

  “How I’m a failure and a quitter at everything, and overweight as well, apparently.”

  "I'm giving you advice. Good advice that would improve your life if you actually listened to it."

  "No. You're criticizing me like you always do. I'm an adult, Jenkins. I can live my life the way I want!"

  "Clearly. But where has that gotten you?”

  "I'm doing pre-med, I'm active in my singles ward, I have good friends, I’m close to Mom and Dad. What more could I possible do?"

  His voice stayed maddeningly calm. He approached her slowly. "See? This is exactly what I'm talking about. I'm trying to help and you're attacking me for it."

  Tessa wanted to strangle her brother. Or throw him against the wall. Suddenly Henry's insistence that someone be thrown against a wall during their play didn't seem like such a bad idea. She could see the appeal of a little violence. Starting now. She lifted her hands to shove, just as Mom popped her head into the room.

  "Everything okay in here?" she asked, looking back and forth at her children. Kate wailed in the background, and Tessa could only imagine what she looked like right then. She dropped her arms to the side, and J
enkins gave her his signature smug grin, like he knew she wouldn't follow through on pushing him.

  Because I’m the kind of person who doesn’t follow through.

  "No," Tessa said, pushing past her mom and heading out the front door.

  "Wait!" Mom ran outside after her, but Tessa was already fiddling with her keys, trying to unlock her car. "What is going on with you two?"

  "Ask Jenkins," she said. Jenkins would give his version of the story. Probably something along the lines of Tessa flipping out because she’d never been able to take a joke, how all he ever wanted to do was help her succeed. Mom and Dad would sympathize with him, and she'd be forgotten for a few hours while they all talked about their glamorous jobs and friends and houses.

  "Tessa!"

  The insistence in her mom's voice caused her to pause. Maybe this would be the time Mom let her give her side of the story and try to see where she was coming from for once, instead of siding with the golden child as usual. "Honey, You have an... independent spirit. We admire that."

  So this was not going to be the one time Mom listened to her. At least this time Mom called her spirit independent. Last time, at Katie's baby blessing, she called it proud.

  "Jenkins means well. And it might benefit you to listen to him. He's been through this. He can help."

  Tessa wanted to bang her head against the side of her car. The only thing Jenkins helped with was pointing out her flaws. She'd come into this dinner feeling burned over Logan and nervous about how her family would take the news of his absence, but she held tightly to Henry's belief in her. He didn't see her like everyone else seemed to. He believed she was capable. And sometimes, when she caught him looking at her, he made her feel beautiful. Now, she felt ugly, unwanted, and like a complete and total failure. That was what listening to Jenkins did for her, and if her family could ignore it, then Tessa didn't know where that left her.

  She stared at her car, one hand on the open door, the other gripping her keys. "He insults me when I'm trying my best."

  "Honey, you know he’s a big tease. I’ll talk to him about toning it down, okay?” Her mom touched her shoulder. “We love you and see all your potential. But maybe your best is more than what you're settling for."