Barely Decent

by Labrecque, Jennifer

• ISBN13: 9780373691043
• ISBN10: 0373691041
• Format: Paperback
• Copyright: 2002-11-01
• Publisher: Harlequin Books

Excerpts

"I don't care if he did ask you to the prom, he's just trying to get in your pants. Bobby's a player." Ryan Palmer stood in front of his best friend, Phoebe Matthews, his arms crossed over his chest, his chin jutting at a stubborn angle, a classic case of the pot calling the kettle black. Except it had never occurred to Ryan to try to get into her pants, and Bobby wasn't a player - just a quiet guy who'd developed a crush on her.

"According to you, they're all players or dweebs or punks or something. Anyway, he invited me to the prom, not a hotel room." Heat crept up Phoebe's face as she toed the swing into motion, forcing Ryan to step back or suffer a whacked shin. She felt like whacking him upside the head. "For crying out loud, Ryan, all he did was kiss me and ask me out."

She was probably the only eighteen-year-old girl in their entire school - possibly the entire planet - who'd never been kissed until today. Mainly, she figured, because outspoken, tall, flat-chested brainiacs didn't exactly have boys lining up to kiss them. But also, because Ryan had taken on the misguided, self-appointed position of watchdog over her virtue. And because her best friend, Ryan, was the chief eighteen-year-old boy doing the kissing. And best friends didn't kiss. Did they?

So Phoebe had come up with a plan, and when Bobby Richmond had whipped out his ChapStick, primed his lips and laid one on her, she'd been ready. Kissing Bobby had been a little waxy - actually a lot waxy - but okay, until thoughts of Ryan had popped in her head and she'd wondered if kissing Ryan would be more than okay.

Phoebe studied Ryan from where she sat on the swing. Average build. Stocky. Sandy blond hair. Jade green eyes. Ryan wasn't the best-looking boy in school or the smartest or the most athletic, but he possessed something far more potent. Aunt Caroline called it charm and charisma. Whatever "it" was, he had it. Girls had been dropping at his feet since elementary school.

"I'll have a little talk with Bobby Richmond."

"Do it and die." Phoebe swung a little harder. "Don't get all bent out of shape about a kiss. A kiss is nothing when you consider there are girls in school having babies."

"Phoebes -"

A little shock was good for him now and then. "I don't want to have a baby, you nut. But a kiss and a date to my senior prom don't seem like too much to ask. Thanks to my flat chest and your `talks' with every guy who even looked my way, I'm blooming plenty late without any additional help from you."

She handed him the perfect opportunity to pull out that charm he plied all the other girls with - curvy, busty, petite, cute girls - and insist that her flat chest and gangly legs weren't important. She awaited his response, her heart pounding far harder than when Bobby had laid his ChapStick-coated lips on hers.

"But, Phoebes, you don't know guys the way I know guys." Ryan shoved his hands in his blue jean pockets and looked everywhere except the vicinity of her chest. Had the subject of her nonexistent chest embarrassed him, the King of the Casanovas? Was that what had brought on this awkward tension between them?

She looked past him to the azaleas blooming outside the screened porch, embarrassment radiating through her. Toulouse, one of Aunt Caroline's numerous adopted stray cats, sunned himself by the porch steps.

Slightly bruised, her heart slowed to its normal rate. So much for the silly notion Ryan might see her as more than a friend. She was just feeling uncertain with all the changes looming around the corner. High school graduation. College in the fall. Would she and Ryan remain close? Or would he meet some girl at college and no longer need her friendship?

"Sure I know guys. You're a guy. I've got the inside scoop on that dark hole known as the male mind. That's why I had to come up with a plan."

Ryan groaned and ran his hand through his cropped hair. "Not another one of your plans?"

So, once in a blue moon her plans went slightly awry, like that fourth grade science experiment. Ryan needed to get over that. His hair had only been pink for a day or two.

"Plans make perfect sense." Plans were important. Phoebe had already planned the next ten years while Ryan was still trying to decide on a college major.

"You've got to learn to go with the flow, Phoebes."

"If you make a plan, you should stick with it." She glared at him, daring him to disagree.

The front door opened. Aunt Caroline stepped onto the porch, the two calico cats, Lilly and Millie, trailing behind. "Sugar, I'm running up to the store. I want to make that chocolate torte you like so much for your graduation party and we need cat food. Uncle Frank's in his studio. He's having a hard time with this piece of stone, so you might want to steer clear."

In the twelve years Phoebe had lived with them, she'd learned not to disturb her uncle when he was sculpting in his studio. Give Uncle Frank - a nice, reasonable man - a chisel and a stone slab, and he morphed into Mr. Hyde.

Lilly twined between Ryan's legs. Millie found Phoebe's lap and kneaded before finally curling into place.

Aunt Caroline blew across the porch and out the screen door, letting it slam behind her. "Do you need anything? Ryan, are you staying for dinner?"

"I don't need anything." Phoebe absently scratched behind Millie's ears. She double-checked the driveway two houses down. "Your dad's not home." Ryan didn't bother to look.

"Sure, I'll stay for dinner." Ryan seldom turned down an invititation. Mostly because he never knew whether his father and his father's latest girlfriend would be around. But Phoebe knew he joined them more for the company than the food.

Caroline paused on the last stone step, looking at Phoebe. "Lynette called this afternoon." Phoebe's stomach lurched, as it always did when anyone mentioned her mother's name. "She and Vance can't make your graduation, after all." Caroline's voice carried, soft and apologetic, in the spring afternoon, the same as every time she broke the news that once again Phoebe's parents would be no-shows.

Twelve years ago, Phoebe and her parents had driven to Nashville from Florida, where they lived from town to town. Lynette and Vance had dropped their daughter off for a "visit" with her aunt Caroline and uncle Frank. Phoebe hadn't seen them since. They'd never came back. Phoebe lost count of the number of times they had promised to come and never showed up.

Relief warred with anger. Relief that she wouldn't have to see them. Anger, once again, that they had passed her on like a useless piece of furniture. She kept her expression neutral and her voice steady. "I didn't really expect them. But thanks for letting me know."

(Continues...)

Excerpted from Barely Decent by Jennifer LaBrecque Copyright © 2002 by Harlequin Enterprises Limited
Excerpted by permission. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.