The Naughty List (The Naughty List #1)(4)
Author: Suzanne Young

Izzie pulled her ruby red lips into a smile and stood up. “Okay, so I was at the mall yesterday, and I saw this totally cute maroon warm-up suit that would be perfect for non-game days!” She bounced on her heels with excitement, eagerly waiting for our response.

I stared at her. The other girls on the squad stopped what they were doing to turn to her. She stayed standing for a minute and then widened her eyes before sitting down on the bleacher. She shrugged and mumbled, “And I found dirty MySpace messages that were placed to Lisa Belgium. She and Michael have been sleeping together for, like, two months.”

“Nice!” Leona called, clapping. “Now we just need the sim card info or the webcam images, and he’s busted! Get me all the files so I can draft the report and submit it for Tessa’s approval.”

The girls started congratulating each other, happy to have uncovered another cheater, but I felt my face drain of color. Even though I’d known from the beginning that we’d probably catch Michael doing something, I’d still hoped that the accusation wasn’t true. I always did.

But nothing ever changed. One hundred percent guilty. Just like always.

I wrapped my arms around myself and walked over to the bleachers to pick up my cheerleading gear. My school spirit was compromised.

“Meeting adjourned,” I said quietly, and headed for the double doors of the gymnasium. I needed Aiden. He always knew how to cheer me up.

I pushed back into my soft, pink pillows, staring at the lean muscles of Aiden’s arm as he held my leg. “You should have been there,” I said, reaching down to run my fingers over his skin. “Izzie caught me in the hall and was like—”

“Tessa,” Aiden said, getting a better position on the edge of my bed. “Will you stop wiggling?”

“Oh, sorry. But I just think—”

“I know, baby. You’re always thinking. Can I please finish?” He smiled, his green eyes sparkling deviously.

“Okay.”

He exhaled and picked my foot back up, using the brush of the pink passion nail polish to go over my pinky toe. It might seem odd that my boyfriend loved to paint my toenails, but I thought it was sweet. After two years, he’d actually gotten really good at it. Way better than I was. And why pay some stranger to torture me with a pedicure every few weeks when Aiden liked to do it as foreplay? He was so cute like that.

“Finished,” he said, blowing on my foot before laying it in his lap. He closed the bottle and set it on my rosewood side table. Then he leaned over to kiss my ankle. When his warm mouth touched my skin, a shiver ran up my leg.

“Thanks.” I licked my lips. He was absolutely, mind-blowingly adorable.

His eyes narrowed as he kissed lightly at my shin, then my knee. Even in the gloomy November weather, his skin was tan. Set that against his green eyes and tousled blond hair, and the boy was pure eye candy. But he never noticed when other girls checked him out. He never noticed anyone but me.

When we’d started dating, he was already super-tall and sort of awkward. Some of the older girls on the squad even thought he was beneath me, totally average. But I knew, even back before his increasingly sexy biceps, that Aiden would be more than the star of the basketball team. He was perfect for me. We were, well, partners. Neither one of us ruled the other. It was a give-and-take. We—

“Mm …” I loved when he caressed my leg like that. I closed my eyes, adjusting my position and staring at my ceiling fan as it swirled. My nail polish would undoubtedly be ruined in a few minutes. It always got ruined. Luckily, I wore sneakers 95 percent of the time.

Aiden’s hands slid up, pausing on my hips. I nestled back into my fluffy white comforter. My parents wouldn’t be home for hours. One of the perks of having musical parents was that their nights were spent in lounges, leaving tons of free time for Aiden … or SOS. Either way, it was still way better than having a mom that worked for H&R Block—poor Aiden.

“Can you leave this on?” he mumbled into my thigh, touching the hem of my skirt.

I laughed, reaching down to push his hands away. “I’m not wearing my uniform so you can act out some boyhood fantasy yet again.”

“Please? It’s so f**king hot.”

“Aiden, don’t talk like that.”

“Sorry, baby. It’s so freaking hot.”

He knew I’d agree. I always did. I mean, there was a reason I kept three extra maroon and gray skirts in my closet, even if this one was my favorite. My boyfriend could be very persuasive.

“Afterward, I get to talk about whatever I want,” I said. Aiden usually preferred a nap to listening to my latest cheerleading drama, but this was important! Izzie had a new cheer!

The bed shifted as Aiden crawled up and stretched his long body next to mine, leaning over to kiss my neck. “Mm-hm.”

“And then you have to repaint my nails.”

“Okay.”

“And—”

He pressed his mouth to mine. He knew how to shut me up.

“Aiden,” I whispered, twisting his hair with my finger.

“What?” he mumbled. He’d been lying facedown on the bed, totally passed out.

“You have to go home. Your mom’s going to freak.” I leaned down and kissed his earlobe. It was close to ten, and he’d been at my house since I’d gotten home from practice.

“Can’t I stay here?”

He knew he couldn’t, but it didn’t stop him from asking every time—not that my parents would care. They adored him. In fact, my father called him “son.” My parents even decorated signs to hold up at the games. Signs that said things like, “The Wildcats Can’t Be Caged” or “Growl Till It Hurts.” Yes. They were those people.

“Your mother is going to call here in, like, five minutes.” I really didn’t want him to go. I lifted his arm and snuggled up next to him, breathing his natural, athletic scent. Even though the physicality of our relationship was a recent development, it was quickly becoming my favorite part. Especially when we got to do this afterward. I held him a little tighter.

“Mm,” he said sleepily, turning to wrap his other arm around me. “But I like it better at your house.”

I stared at him. He was so handsome. His eyes were closed as his face rested on the pillow, but there was the hint of a smile on his lips. He knew I was watching him.

“What?” he whispered, his eyes still shut.

“I just love you.”