The Boyfriend Project by Rachel Hawthorne

today.”
    â€œNope. Maybe tomorrow.” He grinned. “Or maybe I’ll grow it out.”
    I rubbed my thumb along his jaw. “Maybe you shouldn’t shave tomorrow.”
    â€œWhy?”
    â€œIt’ll make you look older.”
    â€œIt’ll also make my dad go ballistic. There’s a dress code at the office.”
    â€œBut it’s like he’s stifling your freedom to express yourself. You’re not your father’s clone. You didn’t need his permission to go to the beach. Maybe you should rebel a little more.”
    He chuckled. “Rebelling within the confines of the family is one thing. To do it at the office is another. If I was going to rebel there, I’d do it by quitting.”
    â€œSo do it.”
    â€œYeah, right.” He tucked my hair behind my ear. I loved the way he did it so his finger trailed lightly over mychin. “So what’s with the hair, the shaving, the rebelling?”
    Sighing, I nipped at his jaw. “I don’t know. It’s summer. It just seems like we should do something radical before we head off to college. Experiment a little.” I kissed him. “You know, explore our independence.”
    He slipped his hands beneath the hem of my top, folded his hands around my waist. “Oh, yeah?” he asked in a raspy voice.
    â€œYeah.” I planted my mouth on his, aware of him rolling us until we were on our sides facing each other. I wrapped one hand around his neck and used the other to nimbly free the buttons on his shirt. I flattened my palm against his chest, could feel his heart thudding.
    I heard the front door open, shut. “Kendall!” my mom called out.
    Jeremy jerked back, hovered at the edge of the cushion for a heartbeat before toppling over and landing with a thud on the floor. Bogart yelped and backed away as fast as he could. Quickly I sat up. “In here!”
    Jeremy buttoned his shirt as he scrambled back onto the couch. He put his arm around me as he pressed PLAY on the TV and the next episode started up.
    â€œHey, guys,” Mom said as she wandered in and sat in the slider rocker. Bogart crept over to her side, and without a thought—or so it seemed—she reached down and began petting him.
    â€œHow was the date?” I asked, although I had a feeling I knew the answer, considering that it wasn’t even ten yet.
    â€œNice.” She looked at the TV. “What are you watching?”
    â€œ The 100. ”
    â€œMmm.” I knew that meant nothing to her. She read romance novels. She didn’t watch TV.
    â€œAre you going to see him again?” I asked.
    â€œI don’t think so.”
    As though sensing that my mom had more to say, Jeremy stopped the TV. “Listen, I need to go.” He stood up. “Good night, Mrs. J.”
    â€œGood night, Jeremy.”
    Holding his hand, I walked him to the front door. Turning, he kissed me. When he drew back, I tugged on his shirt. “Hope my mom didn’t notice that your buttons are one off.”
    He grimaced. “Ah, man.” Leaning down, he kissed me again. “See you tomorrow.”
    As he walked out, he began redoing his buttons. I loved this guy. He was so cute. When he was gone, I wandered back into the living room and curled up in the corner of the couch. “Want to talk about it?” I asked my mom.
    â€œHe wasn’t your dad.” She sighed. “I know that’s unfair, but when I met your dad there was this instant electricity. From the get-go, he made me smile, made me happy to bewith him. The guy tonight . . . I kept checking my watch.”
    I understood the electricity. I’d felt it with Jeremy. He was the new kid in town, and I’d decided to be bold and invite him to join Avery and me for lunch. After that, we’d become the terrific threesome, but always there was something a little more between Jeremy and me than friendship. “I’m