No Good: A Standalone Enemies to Lovers Romance

by Stevie J. Cole

  “His friend pissed in the bed.” Bellamy scrubbed a hand over his face. “That’s why he called me crying like someone had tried to murder him. Cockblock...”

  “What’s a cock block, Bubba?”

  Bellamy face-palmed on a hard sigh. “It’s a…Jesus Christ...”

  “It’s a kid who wets the bed?” I offered.

  “Why?”

  I frowned and looked at Bellamy, who was no help. He just smiled and waved a hand through the air like I was supposed to magically come up with an explanation. “Well...why is your name Arlo? It just is.” I turned onto the highway, driving past the swarm of cop cars at the 7-11.

  “My name’s Arlo because my mom liked it.

  “And I like cockblock.” I frowned. I’d literally just told a kid I liked cock block.

  “Peehead sounds better than cock block,” Arlo mumbled. “Cock block sounds like something you’d call a rooster.” He huffed again. “I like peehead.”

  The kid was exhausting. “Okay, let’s change it then. Peehead it is.”

  We drove through another of Dayton’s rundown neighborhoods. I rapidly flipped through radio stations, trying to find something at one am on a Friday night that didn’t have lyrics involving hoes and bitches.

  “I need to know one thing, Gas Station Lady.” Arlo blurted. “Are you gonna poop on my brother?”

  Bellamy snorted, covering his mouth as he looked out the window.

  I glanced in the rearview at the kid now scowling toward the front of the car. “Uh, no.”

  “You promise?”

  “Yeah. It’s not my thing.”

  “Bubba, you said she was gonna poop on you!”

  “Arlo...Just leave it alone.”

  After a couple of minutes of awkward silence, I pulled up to Bellamy’s house. An old pickup that wasn’t there when we left was parked on the drive, and it was almost impossible to ignore the heavy breath Bellamy dragged in. “Go wait on the porch, okay?” he said, glancing over the headrest at Arlo. “Scooter’s out there.”

  The kid unbuckled himself and hopped out of the car, darting through the dark yard to the side of the house.

  “So,” I said, lifting a brow at Bellamy. “I’m going to poop on you?”

  His chin tucked to his chest on a short laugh. “The kid has to hang around Hendrix… Don’t judge him.”

  “Enough said.” I was still scarred from the turd picture he’d sent me.

  He stared at me, his gaze dropping to my lips, and I thought, for a minute, he was going to kiss me again, but the front porch light cut on and his hand shot to the door. “Later, baby girl.”

  And he was out, jogging across the yard toward the house.

  At that moment, Bellamy didn’t seem like the bad boy. He was a guy who was willing to walk twenty minutes through the slums of Dayton to get his little brother. Just because his friend had wet the bed.

  26

  Bellamy

  Wolf bounced a quarter across the table, ringing the cup then telling Hendrix to drink while I shot off a text: You’re sure Arlo can stay again?

  Miss Wright: For the third time. Yes. He’s begged all day. They’re having a good time.

  Me: Thank you. I’ll be there to pick him up at ten.

  “Who you over there texting, Bell?” Hendrix moved behind me, craning his neck to try to catch a glimpse of my screen. “Drewbers?”

  “Fuck off, shithead.” I closed out of my messages and slipped the device back into my pocket, then bounced a quarter into the cup and told Hendrix to drink.

  “Happy Birthday in prison, Zepp.” Wolf tipped back his beer.

  Hendrix grabbed a Miller Lite from the cooler, cracking it open and pouring it into the sink while humming the birthday song.

  This was shit. I bounced the quarter and rang the cup. “Drink, Hendrix.”

  He chugged his beer, then sank into the chair across from me. “Zepp said they didn’t give him a cake. Such bullshit.”

  “It’s a prison, dude,” Wolf said.

  Hendrix pushed his sleeves up and leaned back in the chair. “I told Zepp when I saw him today that we beat Harford’s ass again. He said that was the best birthday present ever.” Hendrix cackled, then fell silent, twisting the tab on his beer back and forth until it pulled loose.

  We sat in silence for a minute, drinking and thinking. The doorbell rang, and Hendrix shot up to answer it. Girls giggled, and seconds later, Hendrix had them in the kitchen, plying them with cheap vodka. Music cut on in the living room as more people filtered in. And this was what we all needed, a distraction from the shitty reality of Dayton.

  “Hey, Bell!” Hendrix shouted, holding a tequila bottle in one hand and whiskey in the other, pouring them both into a Mega Gulp cup. “Mary thinks you’re hot.” He waggled his eyebrows in the direction of one of the girls he’d escorted in.

  “Congratufuckinglations, Mary,” I said, barely glancing at her.

  Wolf laughed, and Hendrix scowled before putting the liquor down and rushing to Mary’s side to wrap his arm around her. “It’s all right, Mary. I think you’re hot.” He shot another glare at me.

  “Dude,” Wolf slid the quarter across the table to me. “You just passed up a hot girl.”

  “That?” I thumbed back to the girl I probably would have thought was hot before Drew. “Nah, man. That’s nothing.”

  He lifted a brow. “That’s not nothing? That’s a pair of double D tits and a girl who I’ve heard has a suck like a vacuum.”

  And nothing about that appealed to me now. I scrolled through my phone, changing Drew’s contact back to Baby Girl. Medusa didn’t fit her, even if she was most likely going to seduce me, then fuck me up.

  I shot off a text: When are you going to come back over so we can finish what we started?

  More people came into the kitchen. Girls in tight dresses, guys who wanted a piece. The pungent smell of weed filled the air as some people passed a smoldering bowl back and forth.

  Baby girl: I don’t know. That’s twice you’ve left me hanging. I expected more, bad boy

  The balls on this girl. I took a sip of my drink, leaning back in the rickety kitchen chair.

  Me: We were already at third base in my head until cock block happened.

  Baby Girl: Peehead actually

  Baby girl: And just so you know, getting frisky on a driveway is not my regularly scheduled Friday night activity

  Me: Yet…

  The thought of having my hand up her skirt, my lips on hers sent a drop of precum rolling to the tip of my hardening dick.

  Baby Girl: Maybe it was a limited time offer. Maybe I only want to fuck you when I really hate you...

  Hate me. Like me. Those words seemed to be interchangeable these days. And I’d take that.

  I tossed the quarter into the cup and told Wolf to drink.

  Me: On a scale of 1—10, how much do you hate me right now?

  Baby Girl: You’re sitting at about a 5. You need to up your game

  Baby Girl: How much do you hate me right now?

  Me: More than enough

  A girl in a short skirt perched on the table beside me. “Heard you beat up Bennett?”

  “Yeah. Fuck off.”

  She frowned. Another girl took a seat across from Wolf. “Yeah, Nancy. He beat him up over that Barrington girl.”

  I glanced up just as she rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I fucking did. You got a problem with it?” They both pushed up, shouldering their way into the living room. Girls got on my damn nerves.

  Baby Girl: Good. It wouldn’t be half as much fun if you didn’t.

  Me: I want to see you.

  Baby Girl: When?

  Me: Now.

  Seconds ticked by. Those little bubbles popping up then disappearing.

  Baby Girl: I’m grounded.

  Me: And?

  Me: Rich girl with daddy issues who has a thing for the bad boy of Dayton...

  Bullshit, you’d pay attention to being grounded

  Baby Girl
: Who said I have a thing for you?

  Me: Your wet pussy when I had my fingers in it last night.

  Baby Girl: And they say romance is dead...

  Me: You should come to Hendrix’s house. It would ruin his night....

  Baby Girl: Maybe...

  Hendrix whacked me on the back of the head, then shoved a beer at me. “Drink, you hairy sack of balls.” Then he wandered off into the living room, grabbing a random girl and grinding against her to the beat of the music.

  “What you wanna bet he pukes before midnight?” Wolf said, nodding to Hendrix, already stripping out of his shirt.

  “Probably.”

  And then I pulled up the FindAFriend app on my phone, smiling when I saw that she hadn’t blocked it. Because like I’d told her, she craved this chaos. And, damn, wasn’t it was shit she was moving to New York for college?

  27

  Drew

  Me: Maybe…

  I’d texted that because one, a guy like Bellamy West was all too used to getting what he wanted from women, and two, I was terrified of where this was going. In two months' time, I wouldn’t even be here. I’d accepted an offer from Cornell weeks ago. In New York. So, whatever it was between Bellamy and me...it couldn’t be more than a bit of fun, some hot sex. And him inviting me to his best friend’s house for a party, that was more than just “I want to fuck you.” Any other party, sure, but amongst his boys. No.

  I wasn’t going...but I’d already changed into a short dress, lined my eyes with Dior’s best eyeliner, and doused myself in Chanel No 5. Because I was an addict, and Bellamy was my sick little addiction. One with zero rationality. I fastened my Tiffany necklace, then checked the last text that had come through on my phone. One offering a plausible excuse to cover my newfound obsession.

  Diane: There’s a party at Hendrix’s tonight. They’re always the best. Way better fun than Barrington.

  Nora: No. No. No

  Nora: Tell her no, Drew

  Diane: You suck Nora. Drew, Hendrix’s party are fun

  Diane: And we all know you have a thing for a bad boy.

  Diane: AKA Bellamy

  Nora: Don’t encourage that shit, Diane

  Diane: Nora’s just salty because we can’t go to Bennett’s parties anymore.

  I didn’t mention the fact that Bellamy had, in fact, already demanded I go to said party. Or that I was already dressed.

  Me: Sounds fun. What time?

  Nora: Hendrix. Hunt. The guy who licked the window, Drew. No!

  I snorted.

  Me: I mean, yes, but tell me you wouldn’t...

  Diane: What window? Is that code word for your vay-jay-jay? OMG. NORA!!! Did you let him go down on you?????????????

  Nora: NO!

  Me: We’re going. It’ll be fun. I’ll pick you guys up at ten.

  “I can’t believe you made me come here.” Nora sulked in my passenger seat, staring through the windshield at Hendrix’s delipidated house.

  “Lighten up, Nora.” Diane shoved out of the car, swigging wine from the bottle as she rounded the front.

  I grabbed the tequila I’d stolen from my dad’s office, then we followed her through the maze of cars scattered over the driveway.

  Music thumped from inside, and the second we stepped onto the sagging porch, something inside smashed, followed by a loud cheer. Truly, I expected nothing short of complete chaos from a party at Hendrix’s house.

  The door swung open, and a very drunk girl wearing shorts and a bra staggered out, thrusting her drink at me.

  I glanced at the half-empty cup with lipstick stains along the rim. “I’m good.”

  She shoved it against my chest, anyway, giving me no choice but to take it unless I wanted it all over the front of my dress. And then she stumbled to the railing and hurled over the porch.

  I chucked the drink into the bushes.

  Nora looked from her to me to the bottle of tequila in my hand, then she held out her hand. “I’ll drive tonight.”

  I shrugged and dropped my keys into her waiting palm. If she wanted to try to do this sober...by all means. She could have at it.

  We shouldered through the packed hallway and into the crowded living room. The place looked half derelict. The carpet was worn and stained, and wallpaper peeled from the corners of the ceilings. The smell of body odor, beer, and weed was repulsive. Did people actually live like this? I couldn’t help but wonder if Bellamy did.

  Hendrix stood on the coffee table, shirtless and with a Coors Light box on his head.

  Several topless girls darted through the room as he performed some rendition of the Macarena.

  A guy from my history class reclined back on the couch while a girl gave him a blow job. I’d never seen this kind of debauchery in my life.

  On a frown, Nora gestured around the room. “You two wanted to come to this.”

  “Again.” Diane took another swig of wine. “Lighten up, Nora. It’s a party.”

  Hendrix froze mid-hip circle-thrust, wiping a hand over his heavily tattooed chest. “Nora the Explorer!” he cackled, then thrust his hips while singing: “I’ve gotta a ballsack loaded up with things and knickknacks, too. Anything I might need, I’ll find inside of you—ballsack. Ballsack.”

  I didn’t even know what to say.

  Diane frowned. “Did he just make Dora the Explorer perverted?”

  “Fuck yeah, I did!” He grabbed his crotch and gave it a shake before hopping off the table. “Feel free to take a number. I’ll make sure you get serviced before the night’s over. Free oil checks with my dipstick O’ orgasms.” He pointed to a red plastic ticket dispenser in the corner, a sign attached to it that read: Take a number. A couple of girls actually went and took a ticket from that thing.

  Of all the random shit to have… “Where the hell did you get that?” I asked.

  “Stole it from the DMV.”

  Of course, he did.

  “I don’t get it. He’s gross.” Nora shook her head at the girls with their tickets. “I’m going to find some water.” Then she walked off.

  “Oh, she gets it.” Diane laughed, eyeing Hendrix up and down like he was her next snack.

  A warm hand landed on my side, sliding around to my stomach and sending a thrill zipping through my veins that only he could elicit.

  “Aw, baby girl.” Bellamy’s breath heated my neck, and my heart leaped into an elated little sprint as he pulled my back to his chest. “Whatcha doing here?”

  Diane gave me a knowing glance before slipping into the crowd.

  I turned in his arms, meeting those honey-colored eyes. “Changed my mind. Figured I’d come and witness the depravity.”

  “Nah.” He leaned into me, his fingers playing at my hips. “I don’t think you changed your mind.”

  Seconds ticked by, bass thumping in the background while the dancing party goers around us faded into the background. The heat of his skin seeped through the material of my dress, and that intoxicating thrum hummed to life between us.

  “Do your friends know you came here just to see me?”

  “Is that what you think?”

  “It’s what I know.” His teeth raked across his lip, then he laced his fingers through mine and led me through the crowded party. Not only did I follow without hesitation, but holding his hand felt far too normal, and I hated that I liked it so much.

  We passed through the kitchen and onto a back porch decorated with Christmas lights and old street signs.

  Wolf sat at a rickety card table surrounded by girls, and the second Bellamy stopped beside it, the attention of every girl there snapped to me.

  “We’re playing never have I ever,” he said, his hand still firmly on mine as he shifted us around the table to an empty chair, promptly pulling me into his lap as though it were the most natural thing in the world. But it wasn’t because everyone knew we were enemies, and this was a very public statement that we absolutely weren’t.

  Only I wasn’t sure what we were, so I stiffened, glarin
g at him. A smirk pulled at his lips, that eyebrow ring hiking in a way that said he knew exactly what he was doing. He took the bottle of tequila from me and set it on the table.

  Wolf snatched it, inspecting the bottle. “Holy shit, dude. This is Gran Patron…”

  “So?” One of the girls said, shooting daggers in my direction.

  “So? It’s like four hundred bucks a bottle.”

  She huffed at that, rolling her eyes as she crossed her arms.

  “Still just gets you drunk,” I said. And I hated to admit it, but of all the bottles in my dad’s liquor collection, this was probably the cheap stuff.

  Wolf placed the bottle back on the table. “Rich-people drunk…”

  Bellamy popped the cork from the tequila and passed it to me while Wolf’s gaze pinged between us. Then he shook his head. “Fuck my life, dude. Just fuck it...”

  “Fuck yourself, Wolf.” Bellamy settled back in the chair, his hand landing on my bare thigh, burning me. “The rules are, the newest person to the table starts.”

  The girls glared at me like they’d slit my throat, given a chance.

  “Fine.” I fought a smile. “Never have I ever been arrested.”

  Wolf and Bellamy both drank. Bellamy glared at me as he took a swig.

  “Never have I ever gotten off to the thought of someone at this table,” he said. The bottle was already to his lips before he’d finished his sentence, his gaze boring into mine. “Don’t lie, baby girl. I know you have.”

  I took the bottle from him, my fingers brushing over his before I drank. Because I had gotten off to the thought of him on numerous occasions. And the bastard knew it.

  Wolf shook his head. “Never have I ever fucked someone at this table.” Wolf drank, as did several of the girls, but much to my surprise, Bellamy didn’t, and neither did I.

  Wolf frowned at Bellamy. “Seriously, dude?” He waved a hand around the table. “No one?”

  Bellamy shrugged his shoulder, his gaze aimed solely at me. “I’m picky.”

  “Jesus Christ. What kind of guy is picky with pussy?” He crushed the empty beer can, then tossed it to the corner of the porch as a group of people made their way into the yard. “There’s no way you haven’t pounded her.” Wolf pointed at me. “No way.”