Page 81 of Beneath the Blue Moon

***Casey***

“Ugh! I don’t know why I let Mrs. Johnson talk me into this.”

“Come on, Case, it’s for a good cause.”

“I know, Sandy, but kissing strange men all day is not my

idea of fun.”

Sandy and I were roped in by Mrs. Johnson to man the kissing

booth at the annual fair. It’s still early, and it hasn’t been so bad but

still, this is not my cup of tea. It’s just cheek kisses, but every time I kiss

a guy I have to imagine Ethan’s face. Not that I don’t do that every second of

every day. I haven’t seen him in a few days either, not since my drunken

escapade at the bar. It’s good that he’s keeping his distance; I just hope his

mother sees that I’m staying out of his way. I’ve also accepted the manager

position, so being able to throw myself into my work has helped. Sandy glances

over at me when I sigh.

“What are you going to do about Ethan?” she asks.

“What do you mean?”

“Honey, even through beer goggles I could see how you two

feel about each other. When are you going to make up with him?”

“It’s not happening. He’s just being a big ciuccio

right now. He’ll get over it.”

If only she knew what happened in his truck. I wasn’t that

drunk. I remember everything—every kiss, every touch, every word. I almost

melted when he’d begged me to come back to him. But… I can’t. I grab an apple

from my trusty little snack bag and start munching. I don’t know why I feel

hungry all the time.

“I could use a margarita pie from Denino’s right now. I can

just smell the marinara sauce.”

“By the time you get over this breakup, you’ll be the size

of a house.”

“Oh, shut up.”

She giggles, watching me scarf down my apple. A couple of

guys walk up to our booth, and we quickly send them on their way with satisfied

smiles on their faces.

By five o’ clock, we’d taken a couple of breaks, rode a few

rides, and eaten a ton of junk. We’d also kissed too many frogs to count. We

now have two long lines in front of us, and we’ve opted to sit on the counter

instead of leaning over it. All of a sudden, all the guys in my line scatter.

Some of them walk away slowly, some join Sandy’s line, and the others just

hightail it away.

“What the hell?”

“Maybe it’s got something to do with your bodyguards.”

Sandy jerks her head to the left, and I look over to see

Charlie and Brick, arms crossed over their chests, giving the evil eye to

anyone who tries to approach me. Fuck! As Charlie walks toward me, I spot Ethan,

not too far from where his friends were standing. The sight of him induces that

weird tummy tingle.

“Charlie, why are you scaring off my customers?”

“Can I talk to you?”

“Read the sign, deputy; it says ‘kissing booth,’ not talking.”

“Please.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Ethan making his way

over. I smile innocently up at Charlie as an idea pops into my head.

“You want my time, put the money in the jar.”

He huffs, reaches into his pocket, and drops a $10 bill in

the jar.

Here goes.