Your heart's against my chest

Lips pressed to my neck

Chapter 01 ~ Kiss Me

Scar Patterson

Francesca's face screwed into an expression of pure disgust as she placed a manicured hand on her protruding hip and glared holes into my head with her intense stare. "A carnival?"

I bit back an annoyed sigh. "Yes, did you think I was lying when I said I'd be hosting one of the booths?"

Her eyes narrowed into thin slits as she poked the inside of her cheek with her tongue. "Don't play cute."

I gave her a lighthearted shrug in response and tugged out a tube of mint chapstickfrom my back pocket, swiping it over my soft lips. Francesca responded with a scoff and a hair flip, her signature reply to anything she disapproved of.

Francesca and I met back in freshman year. Everyone knew her as the girl who would spend a hundred dollars on a pair of jeans. She had always gotten straight A's, and constantly blabbed about her Bulgarian origins. The only guy who gave her the time of day was me, because she was hot and I was a horny kid.

Since then, she's grown out of her shell and learned to socialize with most of the varsity football team. And by socialize, I mean more than just a casual hello.

I was well aware of her promiscuity and she was well aware of mine, but somehow we were still together. Call it whatever you wish, but I couldn't imagine not being with Francesca.

"So, tell me why I had to pass up a Lacoste fashion show for this?" Francesca's dark eyes widened in absolute terror as they glanced over the neighboring booths.

As I set a medium sized tin box on the booth that my teammates worked so hard on, I flashed my girlfriend a mocking smile. "You didn't have to pass up the Lacoste show. You chose not to go because you didn't trust me enough to run the kissing booth."

She raised an inquiring brow. "This is beyond lame." With a free hand, she flipped her long, dark hair over her shoulder and exhaled heavily.

My eyes scanned the ongoing carnival, searching for teenage girls who were wandering aimlessly. "Where were you last night?" I asked before I could stop myself, while still keeping my attention on the growing crowd.

Francesca glanced up at me and gave me a discerning look. "I thought we agreed that we wouldn't share our personal relations with each other."

My lips curled into a coy smile. "I'm your boyfriend. I think I deserve to know about your personal relations."

She narrowed her eyes slightly as she shook her head in disbelief. "You have a kissing booth to run," she announced after a brief moment of silence. "I'll see you later." Standing up on her toes, Francesca planted a kiss on my cheek before sauntering her way through the sea of people.

I watched as she became another face in the crowd before a pair of strong hands landed on my shoulders, breaking me out of my stupor. One look over my shoulder confirmed that the hands belonged to Trey.

His forehead glistened with sweat, even though it wasn't even that hot. I knew it was only because of his dark skin and the way it reflected light. He pulled a baseball cap over his head to shield himself from the heat, because he claimed 'black folks get sunburned just as easily as white folks.'

"Hey, man."

Trey rubbed his hands together eagerly as he propped himself up against one leg of the booth and gazed at me with his intense dark eyes. "When are we gonna get this started?" He asked out of genuine curiosity.

"Before we do, I think you should know we're totally doing some illegal actions here," I admitted as I pulled a half-smile.

His brows furrowed. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, the carnival would only let me host a booth if I donated the money to a charity of my choice," I began to explain, though I got the feeling that Trey already knew where I was going with this. "So, to save my ass, we're donating the money earned to a football charity."

"Football charity?"

"Made it up on the spot," I added. "Give me some credit."

Trey slapped a hand over his forehead. "Idiot," he muttered under his breath.

I shrugged it off just as I began to circle around the booth, tugging gently on the white sheet covering our booth. "And now!" I lowered my voice in an attempt to sound like a stereotypical tv show host. "Let the kissing begin!" Ripping off the sheet from the booth and letting it fall to the ground, I gazed up at the words painted in bright red, 'Kisses for Charity - $1.00'.

"Wow," I gawked at the sign. "You guys did a really good job with this!"

Trey shrugged carelessly. "Well, you know. Under my guidance, the team and I were able to create a masterpiece. Call me Picasso, if you must."

Holding in a laugh, I popped open the money collection box. "Picasso didn't play football."

Trey leaned over my shoulder and whispered, "That's what they want you to think."

I raised my hands in surrender. "Whatever you say, man."

He folded his arms against his chest and surveyed the crowd. "I'm gonna get some cotton candy. Will you be okay here by yourself?"

I waved him off. "It's just kissing, Trey. And FYI, I happen to be very good at that."

His brow shot up in surprise as his lips twitched into a mocking grin and his eyes danced with amusement. "Good luck with that," he hollered as he backed away from me and eventually disappeared into the crowd.

**

It had been an hour and a half since I opened up the booth for business and I kissed thirty eight teenage girls, four grannies, and one little girl. Some were especially generous and donated five and ten dollar bills. I knew after a week of doing this, we'd be able to get new uniforms and I'd have money left over to save up for my dream car. This plan couldn't have been any more perfect.

Girls gathered in a line in front of the booth, quietly snickering to each other. Every once in a while, they squealed in excitement.

I didn't blame them, though. Most of the girls I kissed attended the same high school as me. Anyone who was anyone knew I was pretty much the star of the school. After scoring the winning touchdown at our championship game last season, I made headlines and even got to meet the mayor.

So, in a way, I was giving back to the fans who loved me dearly. Even if it meant pretending to pass off my cause for an actual charity.

The next girl in line was a pretty blonde, standing next to who I assumed was her brother. If I remembered correctly, she was a varsity cheerleader but the biggest prude in the history of prudes. Kissing her would be my pleasure.

I gave her a welcoming smile. "Next up."

But she didn't step forward. No, it was the boy attached to her side that stepped up to the booth, wearing a forced smile.

I watched him for a moment, taking in the sight of his long, tousled, blond hair that was pulled behind his ears and pale blue eyes that held no emotion whatsoever. He wore a V-Neck with a plunging neckline, exposing his chest and the outline of his breastbone. His stare was blank as he gazed back at me and fished out a crumpled dollar bill from his pocket.

I had to crack a smile. "You've got to be kidding me."

His blank expression didn't even falter.

"I'm not kissing you," I spat as I leaned against my hands.

The boy's light colored brows caved in. He glanced up at the sign, and then flicked his attention back to me. "Isn't that the point?"

I shook my head. "I'm not gay, dude."

He broke out into a full-on smile. "Neither am I."

I looked past him at the girls waiting in line. He was being a major cockblock right now. "Then why are you here?"

His smile morphed into a creepy grin as he thumbed the dollar bill between his fingers. "I want to donate money to a good cause," he said as though it was the obvious answer.

Gesturing towards the money box and giving him a stern look, I stood my ground. There was no way I was going to let that faggot take advantage of me. "You can donate, but you and I are not locking lips."

His ice blue eyes burned into mine as he let a wave of silence settle between us and his smile grew more menacing. "If I'm going to donate, I want something in return. Besides, I doubt that you would want the organizers to know that this isn't actually for charity, right?" He raised a questioning brow.

Holding back a gasp, I leaned in closer. "How do you know about that?" I whispered softly.

He raked a hand through his blond hair and let out a dramatic sigh. "I know many things, Scar Patterson. My mother is one of the carnival organizers and I can have her shut down this booth, take the money, and revoke that beloved football scholarship of yours."

Who the hell was this guy and why was he so persistent? My mind revolted against the idea of kissing another dude, but I couldn't lose my scholarship and something told me he wasn't bluffing. "Fine," I huffed.

He flashed me another creepy smile as he handed me the dollar bill. I gulped loudly as I unfolded the bill and placed it into the collection box. Reluctantly bringing my attention to him and biting back a groan, I started to lean in. I forced my eyes shut, refusing to look this creep in the eye. All I had to do was pretend he was a girl. Then I would be able to keep my scholarship and pretend this never happened.

Before I could even prepare myself, I felt a pair of lips brush tentatively against mine. My whole body went stiff at that very instant, feeling completely repulsed by the kiss. After about five seconds I started to pull away when a hand grabbed the back of my neck, keeping me in place. He forced his tongue into my mouth and as much as I wanted to get the hell away from him, he managed to gain a steady hold on me - making it clear that the kiss would only end on his accord.

So I let him massage my tongue with his and tried to think of everything else but the fact that I was kissing a guy.

Gross!

**

A/N: So, here is the first installment of my new BoyxBoy story. I'm really looking forward to this, so if you don't mind ... vote and comment and tell me what you think. I'd really appreciate it.

~lara <3