Don't Kiss the Class Clown (Billionaire Academy YA Romance Book 4) Read online

  He started in with more questions. “Is it hard to get around on that thing with your computer?”

  “Yeah, kind of.” My tone showed my annoyance. He was probably about to make a joke out of it.

  “Hey, Gamela, do you know why the gymnast crossed the road?” he asked.

  See? A dumb joke.

  Lacey giggled.

  Gamela rolled her eyes. “No.” Instead of sticking with me like a sister, she egged him on. “Why?”

  His grin widened as he locked eyes with me. “To flip to the other side.” He cracked up.

  Great. He’d seen me fall and was mocking me for it.

  My so-called friend chuckled.

  Me? I wasn’t a comedian—not a sourpuss either—but I didn’t think it was funny. I shoveled in the last bite of my grilled chicken salad and glanced at the time on my phone. “Crap.” I looked up at the girls. “Do you know that guy? I have a treatment.”

  Ryan answered, “Yeah, that’s Julian. He’s just having fun.”

  “I need to leave. Like, now.” I searched the area where he’d disappeared and turned to check behind me. He was nowhere to be seen.

  “I can take you. And I’ll make sure Julian had the scooter back before you’re finished,” Ryan offered.

  Yeah, right. Why would he even do that? “How?”

  “I’ll carry you on my back wherever you need to go. I’m pretty good at finding people, so …”

  I looked at Gamela.

  She raised her hands, warding me off. “Don’t look at me. There’s no way I could carry you all the way to the gym.”

  I silently asked Lacey. She grinned and said, “Sorry. I, uh, stubbed my toe this morning.”

  I lowered my head in my hands. Instead of bad things coming in threes, it was a never-ending domino effect.

  The minutes ticked down. It wasn’t that Dr. Dave would blow his top if I were late, but missing any part of class, any class at MLA, was not a good thing. I doubted this clown was able to haul me across the center of the room without knocking my ankle into the wall.

  But what choice did I have?

  “Fine.” Again, my tone wasn’t very pleasant. It hadn’t been since I’d found out my parents were taking me out of full-time gymnastics. I slid my chair back, gently moving my propped leg to the floor, and stood.

  The happy-go-lucky expression had disappeared from Ryan’s face. I slipped on my bag as he turned and knelt way down for me to climb on his back.

  As soon as I looped my arms around his shoulders, he hoisted me up as if I weighed as much as a bag of salad. The movement brought my lips smack against his exposed neck. The spark of electricity mixed with his spicy scent and caused my body to melt against his. It was a surprisingly pleasant experience.

  After my very temporary insanity, I came to my senses with a gasp. What … Did I just kiss him?

  My heart raced as I stuttered, “I, uh, I—” My whole body went rigid, and for some reason, I lost my ability to form a coherent sentence. “I didn’t mean to do that. Sorry.”

  Silent laughter rolled through his body. If I could see his face, it would have that no-good grin plastered on it.

  “This is a bad idea,” I said. A really bad idea.

  He gripped my legs tighter. “It’s fine. No need to freak out. It’s just transportation.”

  And a kiss. That caused too much of a reactive adrenaline rush.

  I wriggled for him to put me down. “Put me down. I’ll just walk. This boot thing will help.”

  “Are you always so acrimonious? Accept my help and relax.”

  The lunch I’d just eaten knotted in my stomach. Did he think that because I was from the South, I didn’t know what that word meant? It swirled around my belly as I gritted my teeth.

  It took less time than I would have liked to figure out he was right. I had been more than crabby for weeks. I did not want to be there. I did not want to be dealing with an injury. And I did not want to like this guy. Having to admit to it soured my stomach even more.

  Just because he’s off-limits doesn’t mean you have to be a jerk. He’s doing you a favor.

  He walked silently. I didn’t bother looking at the other students and the weird looks I knew they were giving us. The accusation and thoughts festered in my brain until I couldn’t take it anymore.

  “Ryan?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I’m sorry for being acrimonious. Thank you. For doing this. It may not have sounded like it, but I appreciate your help.”

  Chapter 4

  A million points of light covered the night sky. I never would have seen how vast and beautiful it was back home with all the light pollution of Houston, even in the suburbs.

  I crossed the bumpy cobblestone of the English gardens to a bench and lay back on the seat, propping my crutches against the back. The scooter had never shown up. Luckily, the trainers had dug around and found an old pair of crutches I could use. They hurt my arms, but it was better than nothing.

  I filled my lungs with the clean air and tried to relax, if only for a minute. The tightness in my chest seemed to get worse. It was better when I was in the gym working on my skills. Not being able to practice made it worse. My parents’ doubts weighed heavier than ever. If they found out about this sprain, it would fuel their argument that I was through.

  If my old coach said to keep training and offered to allow me to compete out of her gym for the trials, why couldn’t they have let me stay?

  My phone buzzed. I checked it to see a message from my mom.

  Mom: Call when you’re done at the gym. I love you.

  That would probably not happen. I didn’t want to let it slip that I’d twisted my ankle and have to listen to another lecture about how I was washed up. When I got released, I would prove to my parents how wrong they were. A sprained ankle wouldn’t deter me.

  I stared up at the stars, visualizing my routine just as Coach Romanoff from TOPs, Talent Opportunity Program, had taught me. I could feel every movement, every twist and turn. Visualization taught my muscles what to do, so that when I was ready for the floor, bars, vault, and beam, I would reach perfection. One by one, I went through each routine.

  My phone buzzed again. It wasn’t likely my mom again, so I pulled it out to see who it was, hoping one of my old friends to cheer me up.

  My heart sank. It was only Ryan.

  He’d told me to let him know when I was ready to leave the gym. He never bothered to keep his word to bring the scooter to me, though, so I figured I was on my own. There was no need to ask for his help when I could do things myself.

  I let out a heavy breath and opened his message.

  RYAN: Dr. Dave said you left early. Where are you? Is everything OK?

  Before I had a chance to decide if I would answer, Gamela sent me a message.

  GAMELA: So … Julian misplaced your scooter thing. Are you at the gym? Do you need help? Ryan is looking for you.

  How do you misplace a scooter? “Gah!” I let the irritation from the whole situation out. “I can take care of myself.” At least the stars would listen.

  “Ally? Is that you?” a familiar voice asked. It had to be Ryan, because I didn’t know any other boy’s voice.

  I sat up, turning in the seat toward the sound. “Ryan, what are you doing here?”

  He chuckled and said with his easygoing tone, “Looking for you, of course.”

  “Why?” It would have helped if he’d brought me the scooter—which I could tell from the glow coming from the ground light by the building he did not have. The thought he might be looking for me because he liked me air-dropped in my brain. I shook it out because … so many reasons.

  “I wanted to offer transportation.”

  “Where’s the scooter?” I asked.

  “Uh, I don’t know. But you have me.”

  I sighed.

  His shadow crossed the garden to where I was still taking up all of the bench. “Can I sit?” he asked.

  “Sure.” He could have th
e whole bench. I reached for my crutches and stood.

  He stood too. “Wait. For a minute.” He rubbed the back of his neck.

  I waited for him to say something, but he took too long and I needed to go study fifteen minutes ago. I settled the crutches under my arms and took a step to leave.

  “Yeah I was … actually … I’ve got some good news. Dr. Dave has instructed me to be of service to you.”

  My eyebrows drew together. “What are you talking about? He didn’t say anything to me.”

  “Think of me as your personal assistant, manservant. I’m at your beck and call.” He bowed.

  I laughed out loud at the “man” comment and the “beckon call.” “Thanks, but no thanks. I already have maid service clean my room. I don’t need a boy servant.” I snickered.

  “Oh, come on. You definitely need a manservant. Every woman should have a man so good as myself.”

  The snickering didn’t want to stop. Man? Seriously. “Do you know how silly that sounds coming from you? No offense, but you’re more the class clown type.”

  He feigned hurt. “You wound me.”

  My eyes rolled so hard they nearly got stuck in the back of my head. I turned and headed for my dorm.

  Ryan stayed by my side and began his incessant chatter. “I shall escort you to every class. To your appointments with Dr. Dave. Carry your bag. Whatever you need.” He jogged ahead, turned, and bowed as if he were a gentleman. “I’m at your service.”

  The attempted British accent drew another snicker from me. But only for a second. “Seriously, Ryan. I can handle this.”

  He tilted his head and said, “I’m sorry, I must insist.”

  I blew past him. As fast as I could on crutches. Fun and games were over. “Good night.” I moved those crutches as fast as I could, hoping he’d get the hint.

  “Mr. Andrews agreed I should help. If I don’t, he might think that I charmed my way out of it and punish me. So please, do me a favor and just let me do this.”

  I let out a sigh. I did not need Ryan Jacobs worming his way into my life. “Look,” I said, stopping for a moment. “I only have a few days of this, and I’m back on two feet again.”

  Talking to Ryan was like talking to a brick wall. He escorted me all the way to my dorm, trying to convince me the entire trek. The more he argued to assist me, the more I saw it for what it was: a joke.

  When we reached the commons room, I put a stop to it. “The joke is over now. Go pull a prank on someone else. Okay? I’ve got to study econ since you talked the entire class period, and I flunked my quiz. Go on back to y’all’s dorm.”

  His head flinched back, eyebrows arched in surprise. “You flunked? How did you do that?”

  Was joking the only thing he knew how to do? I stared him down, but based on the puzzled expression he wore, maybe he was serious. “You chattered the entire lecture,” I said. “How was I supposed to hear a word that Mr. Kremer said? That class is hard enough with you cracking jokes all the time, getting Mr. Kremer off topic.”

  “Oh. I didn’t realize you found my jokes so annoying.”

  I stood there looking up at him with my “duh” expression. What was I supposed to do? Lie?

  He gave a nod, biting those lips that I seemed to always find distracting. His head shook as if were shaking out a thought. His jokester poker face reappeared. A grin lifted the corners of his mouth when he said, “Good one. You almost had me there.”

  I closed my eyes and let out a big sigh. “I wasn’t joking,” I said in a monotone.

  “See you bright and early in the morning!” he said as he walked away.

  I called after him, “Don’t you—”

  But he was out the door before I could finish.

  Chapter 5

  A knock sounded just as I slipped on my shorts the next morning. When I opened it, Ryan’s beautiful smile greeted me. He looked more dashing than ever. I wanted to hate the guy, not give him googly eyes. Of course, he insisted on carrying my bag as he escorted me to the gym, opening every door like a gentleman.

  Somehow, my crutches disappeared at breakfast. The class clown swore he had nothing to do with it.

  “There’s a new movie playing tonight. You guys are coming right?” Ryan asked Gamela and me as Ryan carried me to the cafeteria.

  Every person we passed stared at us. I felt so helpless. Once I was back in Dr. Dave’s office, I could get another set of crutches.

  “They don’t play new movies during the week,” she giggled.

  “Oh, my bad,” Ryan said. “You guys need to come anyway. They’re supposed to be giving away tickets to AffectionateSweet.”

  Was that a music group? “Who?” I asked.

  “AffectionateSweet?” Gamela questioned too.

  “You know, the LoveCake,” he said.

  Gamela and I looked at each other. Her expression showed the confusion I was feeling.

  “EmotionConfection … come on, guys.” His voice low with exasperation.

  Gamela’s brows rose and her mouth rounded in an O. She let out a cackle. “You mean HeartCandy?”

  “Finally,” he said with a chuckle. “You guys are slow.”

  We both ignored his terrible joke, or maybe it was a riddle. The priority was the band.

  I gasped, squeezing my legs around his sides. “Really?” I asked. “I love HeartCandy.”

  “Me too,” Gamela said.

  “Yep. They’re coming to Seattle.”

  “I definitely want to win those.” Gamela raised her arms and stopped long enough to do a booty shake. “We’ll be there.”

  Thankfully, Ryan didn’t stop to watch her. “I’ll save you a seat.” He hefted me up a little higher on his back. “What’ll you have for lunch?”

  Dr. Dave connected the electrodes he placed around my ankle. The puffiness was all but gone. I believed the stimulus was working.

  “Now,” he said, showing Ryan the intricacies of the apparatus. “Turn this dial until the patient can feel it, but not so high that it’s too uncomfortable for them.”

  Ryan nodded. “May I?” he asked the doctor. He glanced at me.

  Dr. Dave agreed. “If Miss Woods is okay with it.”

  Ryan’s eyes widened with what I interpreted as hope.

  I narrowed my eyes. “No pranks.” My health was nothing to joke around with.

  He shook his head. “No pranks. I promise.”

  I took a deep breath. “Okay.”

  Ryan slowly turned the knob. “Tell me when.”

  And I did. It was one of the few times he didn’t screw around.

  The doctor left to find another set of crutches for me, which left me and Ryan alone. My gaze automatically turned toward the wall of windows that led to the gym. Tessa, a sophomore on the team, was warming up for her private lesson. Each of us on the team had one scheduled three days per week.

  Ryan broke the silence. “So … the stars.”

  “What about them?” I asked, keeping my eyes on Tessa, longing it be out there myself.

  “Do you stargaze back home?”

  “Uh, no. Not really. Too much light pollution to see.”

  “Yeah, me too. In New York, you’ve got to shut your blinds and close the curtains at night because it’s lit up like daylight outside. I jumped the fence once in Central Park, but it was a waste. We can see forever here.”

  I pulled my gaze from Tessa’s stretches to ask, “New York City? That’s where you’re from?”

  “Yup.”

  Traveling with Elite Powerhouse Gym, I’d been to so many states and cities, but never New York City. “What’s it like? Is it fun, dangerous, or crazy?”

  He shrugged his shoulders. “Yes to all three. I grew up there. Well, I guess I grew up here.” He chuckled. “This is my home away from home. But I do like it here most of the time. The thing about the city is I never run out of things to do.”

  “Hmm,” I murmured. “The only thing I know about is training and school. Which fills my hours.” I turned ba
ck to find Tessa doing back handsprings across the mat.

  “So where are you from? I heard it was Houston.”

  “Sort of. A suburb called The Woodlands. Ever heard of it?” I asked.

  He chuckled, opening his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. He quickly averted his eyes, his teeth grazing his bottom lip as he shook his head. We sat in silence for what seemed like minutes. I kept waiting for a joke, but it never came, and I turned my gaze back to where I longed to be.

  Tessa ran through her routine on the taped line near the beam. It was standard to go through it once on the line.

  “What are you thinking about?”

  I glanced at him briefly and shook my head. “Just that I need to be out there training right now, not stuck in here nursing a twisted ankle.”

  The machine beeped, signally the end of the session. Ryan flipped off the power. I watched his fingers dance on my skin as they peeled the electrodes away. His touch was soft and gentle, and against my better judgment, I liked it. I tried to focus on Tessa as she did a full turn into a split leap on the beam.

  “You’ll be back before the first meet. Right?” His voice was as gentle as his fingers, but I didn’t tear my gaze from the gym.

  “Yeah, but I need to train every day if I’m going to make it to the trials.”

  “What trials?” he asked.

  My eyes connected with his blue beams of calm. Part of me wanted to tell him, to share with someone how important it was to me, how I’d worked most of my life to make it to the Olympics—but I didn’t. Instead, I shook my head. “It’s nothing.”

  The doctor came back, scratching his head. “I don’t understand what has happened to all of our supplies. We had three sets of crutches and two scooters. Now we have none.”

  Ryan brightened at the news. “Guess, that means I’m still your mule.”

  I didn’t know how many more days I could take being that close to him. We’d just shared something about ourselves without him making a joke out of it. He never tired of carrying me around and always seemed to wear just the right amount of delicious cologne.

  I was already doing my best to NOT sniff him. Too much more of the close contact, and my hard-fought discipline to not bury my face in his neck when he carried me would crumble like a sandcastle in an earthquake.