How to Convince a Boy to Kiss You Read online

  Dedication

  For Greg,

  my real-life Potential Prince,

  who restored my faith and

  thus brought Aurora back to life.

  I hope you’ll have all of my kisses, always.

  Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Also by Tara Eglington

  Copyright

  CHAPTER 1

  For a girl who shared her name with a princess (Aurora from ‘Sleeping Beauty’), my present circumstances were fathoms away from a fairytale. My kissing skills had left both parties maimed, one case worthy of the emergency room.

  Our first kiss as a couple, and my first-ever kiss, had been a melding of everything I’d heard kisses could be, all the glorious clichés in action — weak knees, my heart a field of fluttering butterflies, life in technicolour. Worth the wait.

  With a start like that, I’d expected the second kiss to be as good. Or at least not to end in calamity.

  Four hours ago I’d had no idea I’d be spending half of my Thursday night in the local hospital’s emergency department, watching the on-call physician stitching Hayden Paris’s formerly perfect lower lip.

  Four hours earlier …

  I stood at my bathroom mirror, staring at my lips. I’d just applied red lip liner and a matching Kit Cosmetics lipstick, taking a good five minutes to make sure that the edges were perfect. Now I was having second thoughts.

  Normally I wasn’t one to spend lengthy amounts of time pouting at my own reflection, but in the fifteen minutes before Hayden was due to arrive I seemed to be fixated on my own mouth.

  It had started with the intention of making sure I had fresh breath. Three brushings and a lengthy flossing session later, I’d pinched the super-strong dental-clinic-issued mouthwash used by my dad (otherwise known as the NAD — New Age Dad) on the basis that it would work better than my Listerine. Figuring that if I used any more mouthwash I’d give myself acid reflux, I’d finally stashed a mini breath spray in the pocket of my skirt so I could do a last quick spritz after Hayden and I had finished dinner. Or maybe I should just dash upstairs and brush my teeth again? Literally sharing breath with someone was nerve-racking.

  I was now in a conundrum over lipstick. I’d automatically reached for the red, as red lips were one of the fundamentals of my Rules of Attraction. Numerous studies have proved that red lips are considered the most sensual. This is thought to be because lipstick mimics the way our lips flush when attracted to another person. But just as I’d finished applying the lipstick, I started worrying that it wasn’t the best choice for getting up and personal. It would inevitably kiss off, wouldn’t it? What if I pulled away from the (hopefully) amazing kiss and Hayden was left smeared with Kit’s Heart Starter? Gloss wasn’t an option either — I’d overheard way too many guys complaining about how they hated goopy lips.

  I blotted the lipstick, hoping to achieve a nice subtle stain, like I’d been sitting in a field eating raspberries or something. Revlon had had that famous Cherries in the Snow ad campaign in 1953, so bring on Raspberries in a Field. I was obviously getting jittery if I was planning 1950s-esque cosmetic campaigns.

  I hadn’t talked about my anxiety with my best friends, Cassie, Jelena, Lindsay and Sara. They were looking to me to be their dating guru — and hopefully the whole of Jefferson High would be too, once I implemented my Find a Prince/Princess Program™. How could I have helped Cass and Scott break the boundaries of shyness and guided Lindsay through winning Tyler back (all in the space of a month!) and still feel so uneasy about my own dating practices? I didn’t want this to be a situation of ‘those who can’t do, teach’. It was up to me to push beyond the fear barrier. With any luck, in a few weeks I would be offering firsthand advice on how to successfully achieve transcendent kisses.

  Catching sight of my watch, I reluctantly turned my attention back to my lips — there were only about five minutes left before Hayden was supposed to arrive. I was in a state of half-anticipation, half-almost-terror. Yes, I’d done my pre-pash prep, but were lipstick and mouthwash really enough to ready me for a soul-stirring kiss?

  As I recapped my lipstick, I heard Jelena inside my head lecturing me about unrealistic expectations. Okay, yes, I was aiming high in hoping for a bordering-on-legendary second kiss. But who was I without my idealism? If I’d taken heed of everyone else’s cynicism, I’d never have stuck with the Find a Prince/Princess Program™ for the past three years. I’d have given up and likely settled for a substandard guy. Instead, following my heart and having a bit of faith had landed me Hayden Paris, Prince Extraordinaire.

  After four years of misunderstandings and miscommunication, Hayden and I had finally come together as a couple three days ago, after he’d revealed himself to be my secret admirer. I’d realised that he was not the bane of my life, but actually the boy of my dreams. My heart was in a state of celebration. So when it came to kissing, I wanted the follow-up to be worthy of everything we had both waited for. I wanted utter elation. A moment of tenderness in which my heart would tremble inside my chest at how exquisitely beautiful it was to be so close to Hayden.

  I’d once read that the term ‘French kiss’ derived from ‘soul kiss’ because of an ancient belief that the sharing of breath was, in essence, the sharing of souls. A romantic notion, yet I had to admit that when I’d let Hayden touch his lips to mine the other night, I’d felt as if parts of me, tiny molecules at a time, had come close to dissolving in the intense closeness.

  I shivered. Recalling that first kiss in full detail was making me feel shaky. I had to turn my mind to practicalities.

  Realising that our doorbell was set to ring any moment now, I ran downstairs to do a last-minute check of the lounge room. I had taken the same care with the room’s ambience as I had with my lip prep. Beyond emotional connection, romance was a sensory experience, so I’d aimed for soft light and scent. I’d placed oversized velvety cushions on either side of the coffee table to encourage a more relaxed feel than the two of us perched at a distance from each other on my long couch. I’d set three large glass candles along the length of the coffee table and filled tall vases with white lilies. I was hoping that when we closed our eyes and our lips met, the scent of the lilies would make us feel like we were kissing in a flower-filled field.

  I lowered the dimmer switches, just enough to heighten the mood but not so dramatically that I’d have difficulty making out Hayden’s features.

  Then I turned the lights up again a fraction of a millimetre. Yes, I was trying to create a sense of intimacy, but I also didn’t want Hayden to think I was encouraging a boudoir-esque atmosphere. What if he thought I was being overly forward? It was only our first date and here I was getting out the candles!

&
nbsp; Oh god, could I even pull this off? Yes, I’d readied the room, but was I ready? Could I take this second kiss to the dizzying heights required?

  What if our heart-stopping first kiss had set a precedent in Hayden’s mind that I couldn’t equal the second time round? What if I instigated a kiss and it fell flat? What if Hayden was disappointed?

  My basic plan was to move in close at some point during the night, ensuring that my intimate intentions were obvious to Hayden. But I had major timing trepidation. How would I know the opportune moment to get up close and personal, the moment Hayden would be at his most kiss-responsive?

  For example, what if I moved in and he was tired or cranky or lip-fatigued from an afternoon arguing in the debating team? I pictured myself getting shot down mid-move in the candlelight. Hmm … was rejection better or worse in low lighting? The lack of light would hide my extreme embarrassment, but I’d also be sitting there in a highly sensuous atmosphere. Hopefully not too sensuous. My hand went to the dimmer switch again.

  Right, I was calling Cassie.

  She picked up straight away. ‘Hey, aren’t you on your date?’

  ‘About to be. As in, Hayden’s probably heading towards my door right now and I’m seriously doubting that I have the courage to open it, let alone make a lunge for his lips later. Cass, talk about terrifying stakes! I get the timing wrong and I’m left cast off in the candlelight.’

  ‘Aurora, you know he’s crazy for you. I’m sure he’s planning to kiss you tonight anyway, but if you still want to be the one to make the first move, just look for the cues.’

  ‘Cues?’

  ‘Kissing green lights. Physical indications telling you to go straight ahead.’

  ‘I’m a total newbie on the dating highway, Cass. Unless Hayden actually turns green, I’m going to be playing the yes/no game for the next few hours.’

  Cassie laughed. ‘I’m talking things like prolonged eye contact and sitting really close to you, not Hayden turning into a chameleon.’

  ‘Oh god, why can’t he be a chameleon? You know the male actually changes colour when he’s in the mood? Just think — if Hayden’s lips suddenly burst into stripes of blue and green, I wouldn’t have any hesitation!’ My voice rose a half-octave with nervous tension.

  ‘Aurora, I can literally hear you getting breathless. You have to breathe. You don’t breathe while kissing, you’ll pass out. It happened to my cousin!’

  ‘What?!’ I shrieked. ‘No-one warned me about this!’

  The doorbell rang.

  ‘Arggh! Hayden and his non-chameleon lips have arrived!’

  ‘Just remember to breathe and focus on the feelings and you’ll ace it,’ Cassie said. ‘I promise.’

  I caught sight of my face in the hallway mirror as I set the phone down and headed for the door. I looked like a rabbit staring up in terror at a farmer with a pitchfork. Fantastic.

  I opened the door, willing my eyebrows to drop down from their ‘bunny who thinks it’s going to die’ expression. Hayden’s smiling face greeted me. My whole body instantly relaxed.

  ‘Good evening, Princess.’ He gave me a hug. ‘Any chance a wannabe knight bearing wood-fired pizza could cross the threshold?’

  I smiled as I stepped aside to let him in. ‘Was it an epic quest?’

  ‘It involved much gallantry,’ Hayden replied as we headed down the hall. ‘Securing the perfect margarita is no mean feat. The guy at the pizza place was actually a bit of a fire-breathing dragon. He had serious issues about half-and-half pizzas.’

  Hayden started turning right to go into the kitchen.

  ‘Oh!’ I touched his shoulder. ‘I thought we might eat in the lounge. It’s cosier.’

  My plan of action was to get Hayden comfortable. Get him comfortable and then pounce.

  ‘No problem.’ He turned left instead of right, then stopped at the entrance to the lounge. ‘Oh! We might need a little more light.’

  Oh my god — the lounge room now resembled a dimly lit saloon where busty women of the Wild West were likely to slink by in skimpy corsets or recline languorously on the velvet cushions. I must have accidentally hit the dimmer switch in my scramble to get to the front door.

  ‘Sorry, I was, ah, setting the scene.’ Had that actually come out?

  ‘The scene?’ Hayden turned, eyebrows raised, his hand paused on the dimmer switch. His eyes were undeniably nervous. He probably thought he was about to be thrown down on the coffee table.

  Great. I aim for ambience and wind up scaring my date.

  ‘Setting the scene — for history!’ I cried. ‘You know, the Middle Ages, living by candlelight? I was hoping it would help with my essay. I, um, I was working on it while waiting for you.’

  Why was my voice increasingly resembling a chipmunk’s — i.e. high-pitched, fast-paced and bordering on panicky? I seriously doubted Hayden wanted to make out with Alvin.

  ‘Much as I love your imagination, I think the takeaway pizza might destroy the illusion.’ Hayden laughed as he turned the dimmer switch up. ‘Let’s skip ahead a few centuries so you don’t end up accidentally dripping sauce on that gorgeous dress.’

  I tried not to feel seriously insulted. Here I was preparing to execute a major move and my date didn’t want to know about it. I flopped down onto one of the velvet cushions, trying not to let out a sigh as Hayden set out the pizza and filled our glasses with vanilla Coke. Why was this so easy in movies? I thought of Cleopatra and Elizabeth Taylor tumbling out of the rolled-up carpet. Caesar had been putty in her hands. I’d tried to set up a scene of seduction and instead I’d wound up eating pizza underneath blazing lights.

  I looked across at Hayden, who’d picked up a piece of pizza but seemed to be waiting for me. I studied the pizza on the table in front of me. The second I took a bite, my painstakingly applied lipstick would be messed up. Then, as the smell wafted up towards me, I realised I had bigger worries — there was garlic on the margarita! No way was breath spray going to cover up that potent passion killer.

  I looked up from the pizza and saw that Hayden was watching me with an amused expression.

  ‘Crucial decision, hmm?’ he said.

  Little did he know. I let out an anxious giggle.

  ‘I’m making an executive decision before it gets cold.’ He picked up a slice and put it on the plate in front of me. ‘Happy?’

  I looked at him. His hazel eyes were so warm they were almost golden in the glow of the candles on the coffee table. Eye contact! That was one of Cass’s green lights. Okay, time to up the ante.

  My heart had already accelerated within mere seconds. I had to push the rest of me to catch up with it before the opportune moment slipped by. I gave Hayden a long gaze and raised an eyebrow in what I hoped was a Cleopatra-esque expression.

  He let out a nervous laugh. ‘Have I got sauce on my face?’

  I started in surprise. ‘What?’ Obviously my attempt at Cleopatra was more scornful than seductive. ‘No!’

  My hands, still trembling from the extended eye contact, shook harder and I dropped my pizza slice into my lap.

  ‘You see! This is why we needed the light!’ Hayden leant forward, shaking his head in amusement, grabbed the pizza and put it back on the plate with a smile.

  He reached over and pressed a napkin into my hand, giving it a squeeze. Houston, we had contact. If I didn’t do this now, I never would.

  Hayden went to move his hand away, but I grabbed on to it. Before my fear could kick in, I leant across the coffee table, meeting Hayden halfway.

  ‘Sorry, blotting the stain will probably make it worse —’ he began.

  I placed my index finger over his lips, stopping his sentence short. His eyes widened.

  Okay, replace finger with lips. With own lips. With own hopefully minty fresh lips.

  I leant further towards Hayden, closing the distance between us. The caramel aroma of the candles was intoxicating. I took a steady breath, trying to concentrate on my senses. I could feel my cheeks were flus
hed, although I couldn’t tell whether that was from the warmth of the candles or the dizzying pulse of blood through my body as I watched Hayden’s eyes darken. He murmured something, but I shook my head. The room was in complete silence except for our breathing and the pounding of my heart, which thumped in my ears like the crash of the ocean on the sand when you lay your head down on your towel at the beach.

  There were five centimetres left between our faces. I removed my finger from Hayden’s lips and our foreheads touched. The gentleness of the gesture caused a pulling feeling in my chest.

  Last step. Last tiny little step and the plan would be complete.

  Focus on the feelings. Cass’s advice floated back to me.

  I touched his cheek with the fingers of my right hand. This was Hayden, my Potential Prince, my childhood friend, bane of my life turned boy of my dreams. He was right here with me. I felt my lips relax into a smile, a smile that sank down through my skin and seemed to hover over my heart. I was so lucky. This thought tipped me over into the courage zone, and almost in a trance, I closed the minute distance left between us.

  I pressed my lips to Hayden’s, so lightly that the touch of skin to skin was almost imperceptible. Even the second time round, the sensation was so exquisitely unfamiliar that it was all encompassing. I was lost to feeling — the exact pressure of Hayden’s lips, his hair brushing against my fingers where they rested on his neck, the smell of his skin — a mix of soap and cologne with green-apple notes.

  Hayden put his hand on my waist, pulling me closer and taking the kiss deeper. His breath was hot against mine. My pulse, already at high tempo, hit critical level. I now knew why Cass’s cousin had passed out. The feeling in my chest as we kissed was so intense I almost couldn’t bear it, yet I desperately sought more. I was like the candles, set alight with sensation, all thoughts dissolving in the heat of the moment. The feeling was so realistic that I could almost smell smoke.

  I took another deep breath, hoping to dispel the phantom smell by inhaling more of Hayden’s green-apple scent.

  Wait a minute. Something was burning. The smell was unmistakable now, almost sulphuric. What on earth …?