How to Kiss a Bad Boy

by Ashby, Amanda

  “It’s nothing,” he said just as an all-too-familiar Jeep pulled up outside the surf shop. Seriously? Frankie followed his gaze and then pressed her mouth together.

  “Please tell me it wasn’t anything to do with Aaron. Please tell me you didn’t get into a fight with him. He’s not worth it.”

  She could say that again.

  “It didn’t come to that. It’s no big deal.”

  “Really? So if I went over to the surf shop and asked him, what answer would I get?”

  Nothing good.

  He rubbed his chin. “He just started to say some stuff. I convinced him not to.”

  Frankie’s mouth dropped. “About me?”

  “It didn’t get that far. He was just trying to show off in front of Melissa. We had a conversation and then it ended.”

  Frankie was silent before she took a breath. “Jackson, will you promise not to fight him? Regardless of what he says about me?”

  “Despite the jacket, I don’t actually go around fighting people.” He stalked over and picked up one of the vintage tablecloths. He flicked it open. Frankie didn’t move as the color drained from her face.

  Oh hell.

  The cafeteria.

  He might not like fighting, but other people didn’t always feel the same way.

  “I take it you saw what happened at school,” he said.

  “I got the up close and personal view of it.” She walked after him and picked up a second tablecloth. She studied it, then met his gaze. “When Trevor punched you, you fell onto the table where—”

  Damn. He sucked in a breath. “I wish that hadn’t happened. It wasn’t my finest hour. Did it freak you out?”

  “Kind of. Plus you fell on my lunch tray.”

  “That would explain the mac and cheese in my hair,” he said in a light voice, hoping the subject could be dropped. Hoping he could ignore just how different they were. That he was the kind of guy who’d always be dragged back into the world he’d come from. And it was a world Frankie didn’t belong in.

  He was trouble, and she was someone who’d get hurt.

  “What happened? Was it—” The unspoken word hung in the air, and then she seemed to shake herself. “Sorry,” she quickly said. “Please forget I asked that. It’s none of my business.”

  She could say that again.

  He was none of her business. And yet he hated the way her lower lip was trembling as if she’d overstepped her mark. Especially when the only one who’d overstepped anything was him, when he thought they could be friends.

  He focused on the ground. “Last year Tania and I started dating. She got me a job working construction over the summer. Her dad owns the business and had been friends with my father. But Tania and I split not long after.”

  “Is that why you quit that job? Because you couldn’t bear to be near her?”

  He swallowed. Not exactly. But no good could come from telling her the truth.

  He shook his head. “No, nothing like that. I just didn’t like the job. But the fight in the cafeteria was when Tania’s new boyfriend thought he’d make a name for himself by beating up Marty Lang’s kid. I should have seen it coming.”

  “That’s outrageous. I can’t believe you almost got expelled when it wasn’t your fault. Did you tell Principal Callum what really happened?” Her eyes flashed, just like they’d done when he’d told her about his mom getting fired. She was fierce as hell when she wanted to be. Something shifted in him, and the tension in his shoulder blades loosened.

  “It’s fine. I didn’t get expelled, so I live to study another day,” he said in a light voice, trying to resist the urge to wrap his arms around her waist and drag her to him.

  “I guess.” She moved to the table next to him. “At least you weren’t hurt.”

  “Yeah,” he agreed, not wanting to tell her that he might have only come away with a smashed jaw and sore knuckles, but the damage had still been done. Like all the doors that had shut on him when he’d tried to get a summer job. Not that there’d been many open to begin with.

  “Thanks for telling me what happened. I get the feeling it’s not something you talk about very often.”

  Try never.

  “I just figured you had a right to know. Didn’t want you thinking I’d suddenly crash into your lunch when we’re back at school.”

  “You’re safe. Via and I sit outside when it’s not raining,” she said before frowning. “I don’t even know where you hang out.”

  “Why? You looking for some payback?” He arched an eyebrow.

  “You never know.” She grinned. It didn’t take long to finish setting up, and as soon as the chalkboard had been dragged to the front of the awning, she gave him a shy smile. “Jackson, thanks for standing up for me.”

  “No big deal.”

  “It is to me,” she said, her eyes two molten pools. “I’m sorry I judged you when we first met.”

  “Hey, after your lunch massacre, I can hardly blame you.”

  She studied him and tilted her head, as if thinking. “Why don’t you let people see how nice you are?”

  He shrugged. “It wouldn’t make any difference. To the world I’ll always be Marty Lang’s kid.”

  “Well, you’re not that to me. Thanks for being my friend.”

  She thought he was nice? And that they were friends?

  Him and Frankie.

  He swallowed.

  Somewhere far away, another version of himself was yelling at him. Screaming for him to back off. Screaming that being friends with her could only lead to trouble. That this crush he had needed to end. And yet he couldn’t stop the smile from reaching his mouth.

  “It’s cool.”

  “Good,” she said as one of her irresistible dimples appeared. “Because my first official job as your friend is to inform you that your girlfriend’s here.”

  He turned to where Mrs. Willis was making her way toward them in a stately manner. He knew that beneath her haughty expression she suffered a lot of knee pain, and he’d taken to helping her into a seat.

  “Thought I told you I didn’t date,” he deadpanned, and she burst out laughing.

  “My mistake. Now go sweet-talk her while I finish the sandwich preparation.” She flashed him a smile as she disappeared inside. His pulse hammered, and he had to steady himself before helping guide Mrs. Willis to a table.

  The voice tried to scream at him again. But he pushed it down. Suddenly he was tired of staying away from people. Always having his guard up. He glanced back at her as she carefully checked all the cupcakes were perfectly displayed. If Frankie Hargreaves wanted to be his friend, then perhaps there was hope for him after all?

  7

  If Frankie never looked at another cupcake again, it would be way too soon. Well, not to eat, obviously. But for serving purposes, she intended on being a cupcake-free zone until Monday.

  She should have gone straight home, but Lo and Johnny were in full engagement party mode, and as soon as she stepped over the threshold she’d be up to her elbows washing out punch bowls and sorting through silverware. Besides, it was her day off tomorrow. She’d help then. Right now, she just wanted a bit of peace and quiet. And so she’d caught the bus and come to her favorite thinking place.

  The beach.

  Ever since Jackson had told her the truth about the fight, her mind had been spinning.

  She’d been there, and even though he hadn’t been throwing any punches, she’d been quick to label him as dangerous. Trouble.

  I misjudged him.

  Had Tania’s boyfriend beaten Jackson up because he was jealous? Tania looked like she was still interested when she’d turned up the other day. And sure she was gorgeous, in a fierce kind of way, but…she was also wrong for him.

  He should be with someone who really appreciated him for who he was.

  Someone like me.

  She pushed her toes further into the warm sand.

  Tiny flecks of gold shimmered in the sunlight, and the salt tang
of the nearby waves drifted past her as they crashed down in a never-ending dance. It had been nicknamed the Cauldron and was one of the quieter beaches thanks to the strong rips that made it unsafe to swim in. The only access was by a rocky cliff, and when the tide was high most of the golden sand was swallowed up by choppy waves.

  She liked that it was private, and the landscape was forever changing, depending on the tide and the weather.

  A gust of wind swept past, and her legs pricked as tiny flakes of sand whipped around her skin. Ouch. She skipped in pain as another gust dragged at the hem of her work dress. She dropped her sneakers and clutched at the fabric before it could flip up. There might only be a handful of other people there, but she didn’t want to flash them.

  “That was close,” a voice said.

  Jackson?

  His jeans were rolled up, and there was no sign of his jacket or boots. A leather satchel was slung over his shoulder, and his mouth was curved in a smile.

  “You’re at the beach,” she said before she could stop herself. Apart from the doomed trip to Hammer Point last week, she’d never seen him outside of school or the confines of Rosie. And while she hadn’t given much thought to what he did when he wasn’t at work, she hadn’t figured him as a sunshine type of guy.

  “So it would appear.” He bent forward to retrieve her shoes before the tide came back in. “Are you worried it might ruin my bad boy reputation?”

  “Absolutely. The only thing more fatal would be if you were seen eating an ice cream cone and skipping. Or humming. Definitely no humming.” She took the shoes, her fingers brushing his. A spark ran up her arm, and she shivered.

  “I did read that in the handbook,” he said, not seeming to notice her reaction. Good. It would be best if she didn’t notice it either.

  Now, if only she could figure out how.

  Problem was she’d become more and more fixated on just about everything he did.

  From the way he washed dishes, through to how he always leaned in when Mrs. Willis and his other elderly groupies were speaking. Like he really cared what they were saying. And the way his arm muscles rippled when he took down the awning at the end of the day.

  That part she really liked.

  He coughed. “You okay? You’ve got that far-off look going on.”

  Crap.

  “Er, just trying to remember if I locked Rosie up.”

  “I’ve seen you work through a three-part plan just to open a new carton of milk. I’m sure you did,” he said before narrowing his eyes. At work they always seemed darker, more serious. But now they were light, like the sky.

  And I’m doing it again.

  “You’re probably right,” she said, her voice far too breathy. “S-so why are you here?”

  “I just like coming here sometimes. It’s not as busy as the main beaches.”

  “I know what you mean.” Another soft blast of wind swirled up. The sky that’d been shimmering blue was now the color of concrete with streaks of black running through it.

  “Looks like it’s going to rain. We should get out of here. Don’t want you getting sick for Summerfest tomorrow.”

  “What?” She blinked. She hadn’t exactly forgotten about it, but she’d been doing her best to pretend she’d never bought the dumb tickets. Which was probably why she hadn’t sold them. It would interfere with her denial process. “Oh…that.”

  He let out a soft whistle. “You’re not going?”

  That would be one hundred percent no. Via had seen on social media that Aaron would be there. With a much better access pass than the ones she’d been able to afford.

  And when had Jackson become so good at reading her?

  “There’s nothing sadder than going to a concert on your own,” she said in defense.

  “There’s nothing sadder than wasting good tickets,” he corrected. “You should still go.”

  “I don’t think so.” She studied her hands. If she went to Summerfest, it would just remind her of how much she’d misjudged Aaron and Jackson. “Hey, you can have the tickets if you want. Go with one of your friends.”

  “My friends?” He raised a disappointed eyebrow. “Seriously? I thought you knew me better than that by now.”

  “Ah, yes. Mr. Loner. I forgot you don’t play well with others,” she said as another gust of wind swooped up around them. A splash of water hit her arm, and a rumble of thunder sounded out. More rain pounded her skin, and in seconds she was drenched. Water ran in rivulets down her face, soaking her dress and leaving it plastered against her skin.

  Another blast of lightning broke the darkening sky as the sea churned in response. It was like some kind of primal battle scene. An explosion of thunder ripped through the sky. Frankie jumped and her skin prickled.

  Summer storms always creeped her out.

  “Come on.” He turned toward the rocky path. The beach was emptying out, and she increased her speed. With his long legs, he could have outrun her, but he kept pace with her as they clambered up the path, uneven pebbles jabbing at her bare feet, while the shrubby branches that grew out of crevices caught at her legs.

  Her wet hair had escaped from her hairband and was whipping across her eyes by the time they reached the parking lot.

  “My car’s just over here,” Jackson said. The heat of the day had gone, and cool wind chilled her dripping body. Her lips tasted of salt.

  “I can’t get in,” she protested. “I’m soaking.”

  “One of the advantages of having a piece of junk for a car,” he pointed out. “Come on.”

  “Okay.” She reluctantly followed him and waited until he unlocked the passenger door before climbing in. He strode around to the other side and joined her.

  The rain pounded against the steel roof, sounding more like nails than water. And the windows started to steam from all the moisture clinging to them. But without the roaring wind, it was like stepping off a rollercoaster back onto solid ground. Disconcerting.

  She pushed back the strands of her hair that clung to her face. She was soaked.

  Next to her, Jackson leaned over to the backseat and retrieved a purple towel with teddy bears on it. He passed it to her. “Here. Use this.”

  “What about you?”

  “I have my manly image to keep me dry,” he said. “Besides, I know your hair doesn’t play well with water.”

  “I must have sounded like such a princess. All because I wanted my date with Aaron to be perfect. Look where that got me.” Frankie used the towel to soak up some of the rain.

  “You didn’t know Lo would get engaged, and as for Aaron, well, you figured it out soon enough.”

  “Yup. I’m sharp as a tack. All he had to do was kiss another girl in front of me before I got the message.” She tugged out her hairband so she could squeeze the worst of the water out of her hair. It would go curly, but she didn’t care. She passed him the towel. “In case your manly image is secretly sick of being waterlogged.”

  He took it from her, his hand grazing hers. Her breath quickened, and she realized how close they were. Kissing distance.

  The rain pelting down around them faded, as did the rolls of thunder and flashes of jagged lightning.

  He returned her gaze, water clinging to his lashes. His T-shirt was soaked, outlining his chest. Suddenly she couldn’t even remember why she’d ever wanted to kiss Aaron. There was only one guy she wanted to kiss right now.

  If she reached out, she could touch his face. And if he moved closer, their lips would meet. His mouth was beautiful. He was beautiful. She inched forward. The air around them filled with an invisible magnet. Like it was trying to bring them together. She hitched in a breath as his gaze caught hers.

  Was this really happening? Because—

  “Frankie,” he said hoarsely as something rippled across his face. Then he widened his eyes and pulled back, as if trying to shake off a spell. “You’re bleeding.”

  “What?” She blinked and followed his gaze down to her leg. The skirt of her dres
s was ripped, and just above her knee was a three-inch cut that was blossoming with bright red blood. Without hesitating, he pressed the soaking purple towel against it. As if on cue, the cut began to throb. “I didn’t even feel it happening.”

  His mouth was set in a grim line. As if he was somehow blaming himself. “There was a lot going on. It doesn’t look deep, but it still needs to be cleaned up.” He paused and looked down. “My place is closer.”

  “Y-your place? I’m sure it’s okay. I can just catch the bus home.”

  He quirked an eyebrow. “You think I’m going to let you catch the bus home? Frankie, you’re soaking wet, and you’re covered in blood. Even if I drive you, it’s over half an hour, and that’s assuming we don’t hit Saturday afternoon traffic. I know Lo’s cool, but she might freak out if you walk in looking like a zombie apocalypse survivor.”

  She swallowed. He was right. Lo would be worried if she turned up dripping wet and covered in blood. A perfect mood buster for the upcoming engagement party.

  “What about your mom and Chelsea? I’m sure they don’t want me invading their space.”

  “They’re out of town. Once a month they stay with Naomi. She’s Chelsea’s paternal grandmother, and while her son was a loser, Naomi’s cool,” he said, then his face tightened. “But if you’d rather not—”

  Understanding hit her.

  The casual indifference in his voice had been because he was worried she’d judge him. Just like everyone else did. But that was only because they didn’t know who he really was. Didn’t see how sweet he was with his kid sister. How hard he worked to help his mom out. How quick he was to offer to help her.

  How gorgeous he looked with his hair plastered to his face.

  She returned his gaze. “Okay. That’d be great.”

  xxxx

  Jackson had done a lot of dumb things in his life but inviting someone like Frankie Hargreaves to the crappy apartment in the Boards had to be at the top of the list. What had he been thinking?

  But he knew the answer to that.

  He hadn’t been.

  She was cold, wet, and bleeding. And she’d obviously gone to the beach to lick her wounds about tomorrow’s concert. The one all her plans had been centered around. He knew better than anyone just how much that kind of disappointment could sting. So he’d opened his mouth, and the words had come out before he could stop them.