Wicked Sweet by Mar'ce Merrell Read Free Book Online Page A

and back.” I point to where we left the road to drive onto the flats.
    “You’re serious?” He tightens his shoelaces, untucks his shirt from his jeans. “What does the winner get?” He grins.
    “The winner gets … to decide that when she wins.” I stretch into a lunge.
    “Winner’s choice?” Parker jogs in place. “Okay. Hey. I’ll spot you three seconds. I’m on the track team, you know.”
    “I don’t need a head start.”
    We yell, “Ready. Set. Go!” and within a few seconds I’m behind by at least five strides. The distance increases by half before the turn at the pine tree. Parker slips going around the tree, though, and ends in a face plant. I jump over him and keep running.
    “You okay?” I yell back. A second later I hear footsteps through the weeds and I know he’s out to win. Unfortunately, the race isn’t long enough for him to gain back the distance. I slap the car a second before he reaches it.
    “If I hadn’t fallen, I’d have beat you,” he gasps.
    “Oh, so that’s how you play.” I walk off the trembling in my legs. “A race isn’t only about who is fastest. There’s strategy, like knowing you have to slow down or risk falling at the turn.”
    “Point taken. You beat me on strategy and I beat you on speed.”
    I remind him that the race rules were straightforward: first one to the car wins.
    “Okay. Okay.” He holds up his hands. “You won. So, winner, what do you want?”
    “Hmm …” I close my eyes as if I’m trying to decide what to choose, but I already know. “You have to answer one question. Total truth.”
    “Um …” Parker wipes the sweat off his upper lip with the edge of his T-shirt. Flashes me his abs. I think about changing what I want for my prize.
    “It won’t be too personal. I promise.”
    “All right. All right.”
    “Are you and Annelise finished?” I see the look of confusion on Parker’s face and I almost regret asking. “I … um … I need to know.” A good debater knows when to stay silent. If I offered my points, I’d reveal the one that embarrasses me most. My mother always seems to “overlap” boyfriends. I don’t want to be the overlapped girl.
    He takes a step closer and I lift my chin to look in his eyes. “I’ve changed my status—I am in no way dating Annelise. We don’t talk on the phone and we don’t text each other.” Oh how I’ve always wanted this moment. It would be perfect if he’d reach his hand up and cradle my face and lean down and …
    “You look like you need more water.”
    Was I that obviously hot?
    Parker takes his time opening the trunk, pulling out two bottles of water, handing me one, going back to close the trunk.
    “Okay, winner. Any more questions?” This feels so comfortable, so right. I think I could ask him anything.
    “Well … no … okay … maybe one. What’s up with Will? Is he really interested in Chantal?”
    “Uh …” He fumbles the cap of his water bottle. Between long drinks, he answers my question. “It’s … okay. We’re best friends. Will and me. We do things together. And I … I … picked you … as the girl I wanted to go out with. And of course, Chantal is your best friend. And Will is mine. So that made sense.” He nods that he’s finished, but I don’t say anything. “Does that answer your question?”
    Let’s face it. I stopped listening to everything past the words, “I picked you.” The prince at the ball asked me to dance. I take a deep breath. If only he would kiss me. Right now. I wait. And wait.
    “Hey, are you finished with that?” He points at my unopened water bottle. “It’s getting dark. I guess we’d better get back.”
    And the spell breaks, a little. I become myself again, a girl on a first date with a guy who picked her. Total truth.
    Parker drives with the sunroof open and the radio low enough that we talk over it. Suddenly we have everything to talk about, school and friends and I even tell him stories about my brothers. Over