Flirting with the Bad Boy

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Flirting with the Bad Boy Page 6

by Michelle Pennington


  I stood as still as possible with the waves rocking us. They were getting bigger now.

  “Is that too tight?” he asked.

  “No. It’s good.” I turned to face him, shaking my head. “I hope you didn’t plan that.”

  He held his hands up. “I swear I didn’t even think about it.” He looked away. “Wave!”

  With his warning, I jumped up and kept my head above the swell. His arm went around my waist, steadying me in the pull of the current. “I think we’d better go back in. Besides, I’m getting hungry. How about you?”

  “Sure,” I said, heading toward the sand. We walked back together. I kept my eyes on the glow of the fire to direct myself. I didn’t want to have to walk all the way up the beach to the trucks once we got out of the water. “Where are your cousins?”

  He looked around and pointed up ahead. Two dark figures were just stepping out of the surf. “There. Did you guys have fun?”

  “Definitely. I heard all kinds of interesting things about you.”

  “Perfect,” he said, his voice dry.

  As we got into the shallows, the breeze wrapped around me, chilling my wet skin. “Dang. I left my towel in your truck.”

  “Yeah. Mine is in there too. I’ll go get them.”

  He took off running then, sending sprays of water into the air until he hit the sand. Since no one could see, I let my eyes follow him. If watching him on the football field was compelling, watching him run shirtless up the beach with water making his skin gleam in the last of the golden light was fascinating. For such a big guy, it was amazing how fast he could move when he wanted to. I had only gotten halfway up the beach before he met me with my turquoise-and-white striped towel.

  He shook it open and wrapped it around me, rubbing my shoulders. “Are you cold?”

  “Will you think I’m a wimp if I say yes?”

  “No. I’m cold too.” As he spoke, he pulled what looked like an old bath towel from his shoulder and started drying himself with brisk efficiency. “But I’ll be fine once my trunks dry.”

  Thinking about how wonderful it would be to put on my dry clothes, I gasped. “My clothes! They’re back on the beach.”

  Jason shook his head. “Go sit in my truck. It’s warm in there. I’ll bring them to you.”

  Since I had chill bumps all up and down my arms and legs, I didn’t argue.

  After climbing inside and shutting the door again, I sighed at the relief from the wind combined with the sun-warmed cab. With the truck facing the sand dunes, I had a great view of the last brilliance of the sunset. When Jason got back, he got in the driver’s side, handed me my clothes, and then put a can of Coke in the cup holder near me. He cracked one open for himself and chugged it, tipping his head back. I couldn’t help it. I was staring again. His wet hair was drying in unruly strands, and his bare, tan skin was within reach if I dared reach out to him.

  “So…” he said, turning to smile at me. “How do you feel about country music?”

  “I don’t know any.”

  “That’s what I figured. It’s time you did.” He leaned forward and turned on the radio.

  The time slipped away more quickly than the last of the light, with music pulsing between us and no one to interrupt what felt like more than just hanging out. Wanting to be dry before I put my clothes on, I kept the towel wrapped around me, but let it fall off my shoulders as I stretched out my bare feet and rested them on his dusty dash. Jason sang along with each song, sounding so good with his deep voice perfectly in tune.

  My hair was taking forever to dry, so I took my ponytail down, shook it out, and gathered it all up again to twist into a messy bun so it wouldn’t be on my neck all night. Jason reached out and pulled up a strand of hair I’d missed.

  “Thanks.”

  “You look nice like this,” he said, his eyes shifting over me.

  “With messy hair, practically in the dark?”

  “Yes.”

  “Gee, thanks. That’s a nice compliment when you can’t even see me.”

  “I can see you just fine.” The radio station went to commercial then. Jason frowned and turned it off. “Want to go get something to eat?”

  “Sure.” My stomach had been complaining for a while, but I’d been ignoring it. “I didn’t eat lunch, so I’m starving. Let me put my clothes on.”

  Jason nodded and jumped out, going around to open my door. I wrestled my skinny jeans on, wincing when sand from my feet rubbed off on the pants leg and scraped against my skin. After getting it out the best I could, I jumped down, holding onto his shoulders, and leaned against him. “I like your truck.”

  He grinned. “And I like you.”

  There was a pull between us. One I couldn’t deny. I wanted to let go of my resistance and see where it took me—took us.

  “Food?” he asked.

  “Shirt first.”

  I pulled away and grabbed my T-shirt. Without him blocking the breeze from me, I shivered as I turned it right side out and put it on.

  “Here. I’ve got a sweatshirt back here.”

  He looked behind the seat of the truck and pulled out a green sweatshirt with a grey eagle on it. I took it from him and smiled. “Are you loyal to Sweet Water now?”

  “Sure. Why not? It’s my second chance.”

  We walked over to the fire. “I heard rumors you got expelled at your last school.”

  He shrugged. “I wasn’t trying to hide it. Do you mind?”

  I held his gaze. “I’m much more interested in your present than your past.”

  “What about my future?”

  Now it was my turn to shrug. “We’re not there yet.”

  Jason got a package of hot dogs out of his ice chest and grabbed some metal roasting sticks from one of his buddies. The others were gathering around the fire as the darkness deepened. The rumble and buzz of ATVs tearing up and down the shore was replaced by more country music blasting from the speakers in one of the nearby trucks. I ate a couple of hotdogs, somehow not feeling at all self-conscious about eating in front of Jason. Maybe because he ate four of them.

  As we stood around the fire, I watched him—the way the glow from the fire and shadows of the night angled over the masculine lines of his face. I tried to figure out what was different, and then I realized that he was happy. Not bored. Not bitter. This place and this group of people relaxed him. Jason had always reminded me of a coiled spring. Calm, maybe, but tense. Here he could be himself.

  He looked down and caught me looking at him. A corner of his lips twitched up in an adorable half-smile as his arm went around my waist. I leaned into him and put my arms around his waist, hugging him from the side.

  “Awww, aren’t you guys cute?” Brandy said.

  I looked toward her and saw her camera pointed our way. The flash warned me that she’d taken my picture. “Will you send that to me?”

  “Sure. Here, put your number in my phone.”

  I had to let go of Jason to do it, but it was worth it to get the picture.

  The sound of yelling came from down the beach. “They’re at it again,” Brandy said as I handed my phone back to her. “Troy’s probably drunk.”

  Curious, I strained my eyes, looking into the darkness. Two dark shapes showed themselves. A big guy and a shorter, feminine shape that looked like Brielle. Their postures were aggressive, both of them leaning toward each other as they yelled. Everyone around us was watching too, but the music kept us from understanding anything they were yelling. Then the guy reached out and grabbed Brielle by the shoulders and shook her, hard.

  9

  I gasped, but before the sound was even out of my mouth, Jason was moving. I watched, stunned, as he charged toward the couple as hard as he’d ever run on a football field. The guy realized what was happening just in time to let go of Brielle before Jason tackled him.

  Within seconds, everyone had taken off running toward them. I followed more slowly, stunned. As I got closer, I saw the two guys wrestling on the sand
. Jason had the upper hand. He pushed up, straddled Troy’s chest, and punched him in the face. I flinched. After recovering for a second, Troy tried to swing back, but Jason caught the doubled fist and forced it back over Troy’s head, pressing it into the sand. Jason stayed still, totally dominant, while Troy heaved and strained to get him off.

  Then Jason’s voice, deep and dangerous, flashed out. “If you ever dare touch her again, I’ll kill you.”

  “That trash deserves what she gets,” Troy yelled out.

  Not the wisest thing to say. Jason’s fist landed on his nose with a crack that made me sick.

  Jason stood and stormed away, leaving Troy to roll to the side and bleed into the sand.

  As Jason passed me, his eyes flicked toward me. The tendon in his jaw flexed as if he was gritting his teeth hard enough to break them. He went to Brielle, who was crying in another girl’s arms. “Go to my truck. I’m taking you home.”

  He didn’t wait to see if she listened to him. Or if I followed him. He went and got his ice chest and went to his truck, throwing it into the back.

  I followed slowly, not sure what to do or how to react. One thing I was very sure of was that this was another side to him—one that both awed and worried me. And even more than that, I was certain there was more between Jason and Brielle than he had mentioned. When I made it to his truck, I stood a few feet away from him, watching silently as he pulled a shirt on.

  “I’m sorry you had to see that,” he muttered.

  I couldn’t find any words, so I just stood there.

  He sighed, a deep, broken sound. “Let’s get Brielle home. Then we’ll talk.” He hesitated. “Don’t look at me like that. Please.”

  Weird. I didn’t even know how I was looking at him. Did shattered have an expression?

  But I couldn’t stay on the beach all night, so I got in, sliding to the middle again. Earlier I had begun to feel as if I belonged there. Not anymore. He followed me, slamming his door shut. With a quick turn of his key, his truck engine rumbled awake.

  He reversed slowly, then stopped and rolled his window down. “Brielle, come on.”

  She came, but slowly. Her arms were crossed, and her shoulders hunched forward. As soon as she was in and her door shut, Jason put the truck in gear and eased forward, picking up speed as he went. We only stopped long enough for him to get out an air compressor and get his tire pressure up before he could drive on the road again.

  Once we were on the roads, the ride back across town was long and even more awkward than the ride to the beach. How was that even possible? Sitting between Jason and Brielle, I did my best to keep from touching either of them, as if they were live wires. The tension and unspoken history between them thickened the air in the truck like an invisible fog. Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore.

  “You could drop me off first,” I said, a note of pleading creeping into my voice.

  Jason hadn’t looked away from the road the whole way, but he did now. “Amber, please.”

  That was it. Nothing more. But I gave in with a sigh and sat back.

  The exchange was like a match to Brielle’s gasoline. She spun to face us, flaring up. “Oh sure. She’s all you care about, right? Not me.”

  Jason’s fingers clenched on the steering wheel. I watched them, noting the shifting tendons in his forearm. But when he spoke, his voice was calm. “Yeah, that’s why I just beat the snot out of that loser you’ve been dating. What is wrong with you? Why are you still dating him?”

  “Don’t worry. I broke up with him. Why do you think he was so mad?”

  The silence throbbed in my ears as I waited for Jason to answer. Should I stick my fingers in my ears? Give them privacy?

  “Good.” His voice softened, as if that was exactly what he wanted to hear.

  I closed my eyes. This was what I got for letting myself start to like a guy. But really, what kind of crappy luck did I have to fall for a guy who had unresolved…something…with a girl who was obviously still in love with him? Then get trapped in the middle of their drama? Literally.

  When we got to the street on which they lived, Brielle opened the door before Jason had even come to a full stop. He slammed the brakes hard when he realized she was jumping out. She stumbled but caught herself before falling. Turning back, she glared at me, lancing me with the hate in her eyes, and slammed the door shut.

  Jason didn’t leave until she got into the house. It took me a few seconds to realize that I could move over. As soon as I did, I moved quickly, desperate to put space between us, though it felt like an ocean lay between us no matter the actual distance in inches.

  He didn’t say a word, but his shoulders sagged and a long, drawn-out sigh communicated for him. Staring out at the passing streetlights, I tried to ignore the sting of tears in my eyes. There was no way I was going to break down in front of him. When he got to my neighborhood, I prepared myself for whatever he was going to say as my stomach clenched in anticipation and my thoughts whirled in confusion.

  He pulled up at our curb, exactly where he’d parked before. I could have jumped out and run away, back inside my house, but I refused to be a coward. “It’s okay, Jason. You don’t have to say anything. I had a nice time while it lasted. Thanks for that, anyway. And if nothing else, now I know how right I was about dating. Good thing we didn’t, huh?”

  He had turned toward me, his left arm braced on top of the steering wheel. “What in the heck are you talking about?”

  “Oh, come on. I’m not an idiot. I may not know what’s going on between you and Brielle—”

  “Nothing. Nothing but her being my friend and needing help.”

  “What I just saw? That’s more than friendship.”

  “Look, if there’s one thing I won’t stand for, it’s a guy putting his hands on a woman. But Brielle has the same bad taste in men as my mom.”

  A few more pieces fell into place, but I still couldn’t make sense of the picture. “You don’t have a clue what her taste in men is like.”

  His brows pinched together. “What are you talking about?”

  A sharp laugh escaped me, but there was no humor in it. “I’m not going to be the one to spell things out for you. Luckily, the one who can lives right next door to you.”

  I reached for the door handle, but once again, Jason’s voice made me pause. “Wait.”

  “What?”

  “Amber, I know I’m just the dumb jock, but I’m not so stupid that I don’t know you and I were…” He shifted and pressed his lips together. “You were sending out signals that you wanted more with me. Don’t deny it.”

  “I was,” I admitted softly. “I did. But no matter what I feel, no matter how much I like you, this is too complicated.” I sucked in a breath, and it wobbled like a sob. “It’s killing me, Jason. But I can’t.”

  I got out then, and Jason didn’t call after me. I ran to the door of my house, relieved to find it unlocked. Looking back over my shoulder, I saw him bent over his steering wheel. If I looked at him a moment longer, my heart would break and I’d run back. So I forced myself to go inside and shut the door. Because as much as this hurt, I knew that I’d hurt more if I let myself get pulled any further into his orbit.

  As I passed by the kitchen, my mom called, “Amber? You’re home?”

  I paused, one hand on the stair rail. It wasn’t till then that I realized I was still wearing Jason’s sweatshirt and that I’d left my towel in his truck. Clenching my teeth, I turned around and walked slowly over to talk to her. “Yep.”

  She and Cole were eating ice cream in the kitchen. “Where did you go?”

  “To the beach with some friends.” Well, one friend. Sort of.

  “Charlotte and Maddie?” she asked.

  Tempted to just lie and get out of this conversation easily, I forced myself to say, “No. With a guy.”

  Her eyes widened, and she dropped her spoon. “Please say it’s the hot guy.”

  Cole looked up in the middle of taking a bite. Great.
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  “Yes,” I said. “But it was no big deal.”

  “Was it a date?”

  I thought about it, biting my lip. The hand holding and his arm around my waist and the talking and the smiles…and blast. The hot dogs. If he’d fed me dinner, did that mean it was a date? I groaned. “Yes.”

  Cole raised an eyebrow. “I’m confused. Did you want to go out with him or not?”

  “I don’t know!”

  “Well, I’m glad you did,” Cole said. “It’s about time you went out and had some fun.”

  I stared at him. Was this the same guy who always wanted to know my grades and volleyball stats? Cole had always approved of my drive and discipline. Now he wanted me to have fun? “Well, it was fun, until it was the most excruciating and awkward moment of my life. So, don’t expect me to ever have fun again. Clearly I’m not made for it.” I sounded as irrational as I felt. Knowing better than to hang around for them to poke at my feelings and question me further, I left.

  As I ran up the stairs, I pulled off the sweatshirt, tugging at it when it got caught on my wet, tangled bun. I threw it on my bedroom floor and started stripping off my clothes, which smelled like salty sea air and woodsmoke. Before I could get to the shower, my phone buzzed. I picked it up, not too worried since Jason didn’t have a phone.

  It was Brandy.

  Sorry. Forgot to send this after the fight.

  Then my eyes were assaulted by the picture of me and Jason. And dang it to heck if he wasn’t looking at me like I was his everything.

  10

  After a Sunday spent hiding out in my bed and torturing myself with the picture of Jason and me, going to school was almost a relief. Sure, I felt that same tug, the pull that drew me towards him all morning, knowing he was there somewhere. But I was also comforted by the fact that I wouldn’t see him. Our schedules were too different, and I had a volleyball game, so we would have a short practice and I could get out before he did.

 

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