“It wasn’t that big of a deal.”
“No? The kiss didn’t make that much of an impression?”
Holy fuck, what the hell had just come out of my mouth? That had sounded an awful lot like…flirting? Was I fucking flirting with Heath? Jesus Christ, what the hell was wrong with me? Maybe I should follow Nash’s advice and talk to a shrink because clearly something was messed up in my head.
Heath came to a full stop, staring at me incredulously. “Was that…?”
I looked at the floor. “Ignore that. I don’t know why I said that.”
“For the record, it wasn’t the quality of the kiss I was objecting to, or the lack thereof, to be more precise. The kiss was great. It was the fact that you didn’t ask for my permission.”
“I know.” I stole a glance from between my lashes. “But I’m glad to hear the kiss itself met your expectations.”
Heath snorted. “That’s a low bar because I had no expectations. Not from you, anyway.”
“Oh. Right.”
“But if I had or if I measured by my usual expectations and standards for a kiss, it was a good one.”
“Good? Or great?”
“Good. Great doesn’t happen until there’s been a few opportunities to practice and get in sync. So if that’s the goal…”
My head shot up, and I met his amused eyes. “Now who’s flirting?”
“Yeah, but I’m so much better at it than you.”
“That’s because I wasn’t trying to flirt. It unintentionally came out that way. Trust me, if I wanted to flirt, you’d know. And you’d be impressed.”
What. The. Fuck.
I mean, I knew I was competitive, but what the hell was this shit coming out of my mouth? How, in the name of everything holy, did I think it was a good idea to compete with Heath in flirting? It was like my usual filter had been obliterated.
Heath stared at me in pure disbelief. “Who are you, and what the fuck did you do with Sergeant Grumpy?”
“No fucking clue, trust me. Can we forget about all of this? Like, basically delete the last five minutes and forget it ever happened?”
“I think that might be for the best, or we may be tempted to do something we’d both regret.”
What was that supposed to mean? Was he insinuating that…? “I wouldn’t kiss you again without asking.”
His face softened. “I know. But you’re right. Let’s move on.” He took a deep breath. “The auditorium is right here, and as you can tell by the sound, it’s starting to fill up. You’re addressing the juniors and seniors, around eight hundred kids combined.”
Back to business. This, I could handle. “Okay. Are they usually well-behaved during these assemblies?”
“More or less, yes. Unless someone is, like, super boring, at which point they’ll just tune out and play on their phones, eventhough they’re not supposed to be. We prefer that over flat-out riots, though.”
Yeah, no kidding. “Anything else I need to know?”
“Would you prefer to stand or sit? Usually, people stand, but I know from experience that can get tiring quickly on crutches. And the last thing you want is to fall flat on your face during your talk. Or your ass, for that matter.”
Hmm, that was a good question. My pride immediately wanted to insist I could stand for the whole forty-five minutes, but my more practical side forced me to reconsider. Fuck, I hated showing my weaknesses, but Heath was right. It would be a thousand times worse to fall. “Maybe sitting is better.”
“No problem at all. I still do a lot of my classes sitting since I can’t be on my feet all day, so the kids are used to it.”
“Okay.”
“We’ll give you a lapel mic so you won’t have to hold one.”
