“Loving the new ‘do, Bryce.” Bryce’s hand drops to his side at the sound of Hunter’s chipper voice. “I’m not saying that whoever cut your hair did a bad job, but you should let me do it next time. I have skills you know,” Hunter boasts beside me.
“I’ll keep that in mind next time,” Bryce replies with his eyes still fixed on me. He parts his lips to say something, and at the same time, a feminine voice calls out to him.
“I’ve been looking all over for you.” A pair of familiar spray-tanned arms wrap around his waist.
Hope.
Bryce stiffens. My eyes meet his. I thought you were with Paul?
“Oh, hey.” Hope finally acknowledges me then looks over to Hunter and gives him a fake smile.
“Are you ready?” She looks up at Bryce. “We have a fitting to get to.”
“Fitting?” I look to Bryce for an answer, and he just stares down at me.
“We’re going to prom together and have our final fitting this afternoon.”
“Oh, really?” I cross my arms. “Is Paul with you?” I direct my question at Hope. I watch her face crinkle with confusion.
“Ava.” Bryce steps forward, and I pretend to see through him.
“Hunter.” I turn to my best friend.
“Yes, babycakes?” He wraps a protective arm around me and brings me close. He always has my back.
“Can we leave now?” I dart my eyes between Bryce and Hope. “I’ve lost my appetite.”
Chapter 11
Ava
I wiggle my toes as soon as Hunter finishes applying a top coat over my semi-dry, cherry red nail polish.
“You know you can talk to me.” Hunter attempts once more to get me to open up. He screws the top back on the nail polish, places it on the table, and plops down beside me on his beanbag.
“There’s not much to tell,” I lie straight through my teeth. But what am I supposed to say? I thought that Bryce actually had feelings for me and would treat me differently because he cared about me. That we’d moved beyond friendship and that I meant more to him. I gather my curls up on the top of my head, twisting my strands into a bun and securing it with a hair tie.
“Something must’ve gone down if Bryce keeps blowing up your phone.“ Hunter shoots up to a sitting position. “Did you have sex with him?” His eyes widen.
“No!” I shout then shove him.
He looks me over. “Omigod.”
“What?”
“You little slut!”
I roll my eyes. “I told you I didn’t have sex with him.”
“Whatever you say, honey.” His eyes dance over my body. “I’ve spotted three hickeys on your body so far.”
I have a total of five, to be exact. One on my neck, shoulder, left breast, near my hipbone, and inner right thigh. I nibble on my bottom lip and squirm, knowing how they got there.
“So are the rumors true about his package? Is he hung like a horse, or is he a short-short man?” Hunter lifts his pinky finger and wiggles it. “Come on, you can tell me.”
I laugh at Hunter’s theatrics. “I told you we didn’t have sex.” We just did other naughty things.
“Fine, you didn’t have sex,” Hunter air quotes, “but did you at least see it or touch it?”
Oh, did I—“No.”
Hunter immediately comes to his feet. “You’re lying.” He gives me a sneaky smile then dives for my phone.
“Hunter, no!” I scramble to my feet.
“Now, let’s see what you’ve been up to, hmm?” Hunter swipes his finger across my screen.
“Give me my phone.” I reach for my phone, and each time, Hunter moves it out of my reach.
“Let’s see. Wow! Six missed calls.”
Six?
“And ten text messages,” Hunter looks my way, “all from Bryce. First message: Where are you? Call me.” He looks up from the screen. “So, he’s keeping tabs on you now?”
“Give me my phone.” I jump up and try snatching my phone out of his grasp. “Hunter!”
“No, no.” He shakes a finger at me. “Second message: I’m sorry. Please talk to me.” Hunter’s eyes widen. “O-M-G, this is getting good. Third message: Don’t let what you thought you saw ruin what we have.”
I give up with trying to get my phone back and watch Hunter’s expressive eyes scan my screen while listening to him recite Bryce’s words.
“Fourth message: I need you and refuse to let this go. I’m at your house and used the emergency key. I’ll be waiting upstairs in your ro—“
I pinch Hunter’s side. “Ow!” he yelps. Then I snatch my phone away before he can read any more.
Bryce: I need you and refuse to let this go. I’m at your house and used the emergency key. I’ll be waiting upstairs in your room. Please don’t keep me waiting.
The text was sent an hour ago.
“I have to go.” I shove my feet into my flip-flops then scramble for my keys and purse, almost tripping over the beanbag.
“Girl, you have some explaining to do!”
“I know, I know. But I have to go.” I run over and quickly hug Hunter.
“And you owe me cupcakes! Ten of them!!” he yells as I’m dashing out the door.
Shirtless, black jogger pants, and barefoot.
This is how Bryce greets me when I’m several steps from my bedroom door. He’s leaning against the doorframe, watching me.
“I thought I heard you come in,” he announces.
“I could’ve been one of my parents coming back from their trip early.”
His sculpted shoulders lift then drop. “Getting caught is a chance I’m willing to take. I didn’t think you would come.”
“Why wouldn’t I? I live here.”
He drops his head and smiles a little. I walk past him, smelling my body wash on his skin. I place my purse and keys on my corner desk, rearrange several items just because I am stalling before I face him. When I finally turn around, Bryce is sitting on my unmade bed, elbows resting on his knees and looking down at my carpet.
“Go ahead and explain.” I want to get this over with. On my drive here, all I could think about were the words he was going to throw my way. Ava, what we did was a mistake...
“Come here.” He looks at me intently.
I shake my head. “No, I’m fine over here.”
“Please.”
The way he says “please” has my feet moving toward him. He reaches for me and pulls me in to straddle his lap then wraps his arms around me and hugs me to him.
“When I left here, I did go to Paul’s house. We went to get a haircut then returned to his place. Shortly after, Hope pulls up in his driveway with Paul’s girlfriend. Hope and I left and grabbed a bite to eat. While we were eating, she got a call that her dress and my tux were ready for a final fitting. While I was waiting for her to come back from the restroom, I saw you and Hunter walk into the bakery. I wanted to see you, so I came over. Then Hope came in looking for me. That was the only reason why you saw us together. Nothing else happened.”
“How did she know that you were at Paul’s?”
“I guess Paul told his girlfriend.”
“Then why didn’t you just stay over there and hang out together?”
“All Paul wanted to do was fuck his girlfriend. I wasn’t going to be left alone with Hope and listen to him and his girl moan and groan upstairs.”
“Maybe that’s why Hope was there, to begin with. She tagged along because she knew you would be there.”
“Maybe so, but I never touched her. I’m not going to lie; she tried her best to get me to fuck her, but I turned her down. Ava,” he tightens his arms around me, “you have to believe me.”
“No.” I claw at his arms, but he won’t let me go. “Why should I believe you?” I exhale roughly against his lips that are mere centimeters from mine.
“Because I’m tired of fuckin’ around, Ava.”
I pause in his arms.
“Because I’m tired of having meaningless sex. I haven
’t had sex in almost two months now. Your touch, your kisses, and me tasting you are the closest thing to sex I’ve had.”
“Was it meaningless to you?”
“His hands slip underneath my flowy blouse, and his fingertips spider-walk up my back. “It wasn’t. What we did was fuckin’ amazing.” His lips press against my chin. “I want to do so much more but only when you’re ready.”
“Jesus, Bryce.” I tilt my head back and let his lips move down my neck.
“We can go as slow as you want,” he whispers against my skin.
I lift my hands above my head and I let him take my blouse off then unhook and remove my bra. I wrap my arms around his neck and press my naked breasts against his chest.
“On one condition, Bryce.”
“Name it.”
“You’re with me and no one else.”
“What about prom? I’m taking Hope.” He sucks my lower lip inside his mouth.
“Go with me instead.” I exhale then peck his lips. “I planned on going with your sister and Hunter. I’m sure they’ll under—"
“We can’t. When I agreed to go to the prom with Hope, she said she’d pay for my tux rental and everything else. If I had the money to pay her back, I would cancel in a heartbeat and go with you instead.”
My heart ping-pongs against his chest. “Then promise me that you’ll at least save me a dance.”
“I promise.” His lips part over mine, and our tongues tangle.
Chapter 12
Ava
“I hate that our sleepovers have to come to an end.” Bryce kisses my collarbone as he prepares to leave before my parents return from their trip.
“Me too,” I sigh, running my fingers through his hair. Three amazing days of us doing whatever we wanted. But there was so much at stake now. He needed to get back home since Morgan was returning to the States this evening, and my dad was scheduled to return from his trip sometime tomorrow morning.
I bite down on my pencil at the memory. You would think I would’ve learned a valuable lesson from my best friend Kennedy, but you only live once. For the first time in my life, I was making decisions and not thinking about the consequences that came along with them.
I stare down at my history test. What year did the Civil War start? Was it 1865? No, it was 1861. Or was it? Why didn’t I go over the study materials again last night? I prop an elbow on my desk and rest my chin in the palm of my hand.!
“All right, class, you have fifteen minutes left to finalize your answers,” Mrs. Jemison, our history teacher, instructs.
I start writing down answers, praying for a passing grade that won’t affect my GPA. I’ve worked too hard to become valedictorian, and I want to keep it that way. There’s no way I was handing my title over to Gable. I shiver when I feel something run along the spine of my back. Bryce’s pen. I lean back in my chair and look up to find Mrs. Jemison focused on her computer screen. I hear the creaking sound of Bryce leaning forward in his desk. I squirm in my seat when I feel his lips against my ear. “Wanna get out of here after class is over?” His cool, minty breath fans against my skin.
I nod.
“Bryce, you know the rules. There’s no talking during a test,” Mrs. Jemison scolds him.
“Yes, ma’am. I’m sorry, it won’t happen again.” He slathers on the charm. “I was just asking Ava if she had an extra pen I could use.”
“I see.” Mrs. Jemison rummages through her desk then stands. “Next time, just raise your hand and I’ll bring you one.” She walks down our aisle, and her White Diamonds perfume wafts up my nose, making me sneeze.
“Bless you, Ava,” she says to me, stopping at Bryce’s desk. “Bryce, you can keep this. I don’t want to hear any more excuses as to why you didn’t come to class prepared.”
Omigod, she fell for it? I laugh to myself.
“Thank you, Mrs. Jemison.”
“You’re welcome; now finish up your test; you have only fifteen minutes left until the bell rings.”
She walks back to her desk and resumes her spot in front of her computer.
After answering the essay portion of the test, I take my paper and place it in a basket located on a table at the back of the classroom, pausing when I feel a warm hand sear against the exposed skin on the side of my stomach from leaning forward to lay my test down. A broad chest presses against my back, and an arm snakes around my body, with a test paper in hand. I inhale a sharp breath, taking in a whiff of a clean, sporty, energizing scent that awakens my hormones.
“I bet you aced it,” Bryce whispers beside my ear and lays his paper on top of mine.
I cut my eyes to my left to see our teacher engaged in conversation with Gable. I turn my head slightly to look at Bryce, and my nose brushes against his. “I wouldn’t say ‘aced’ it since I didn’t have much time to study last night,” I reply lowly.
He tilts his head and leans forward. I close my eyes, thinking I’m about to feel his lips and when I don’t, I open them to see him staring down at me intently. His hand starts to gently knead my side. Just as I’m starting to enjoy his touch, the bell rings. Bryce’s hand falls away from my skin then he takes a step back.
“All right class, don’t forget your group projects are due Monday! I’m sure I’ll see some of you at prom tomorrow night.” Murmurs of excitement fill the room. “And don’t forget—no drinking and driving!”
Bryce and I walk back to our desks; we grab our bags and walk out the classroom together. I stop by my locker while Bryce briefly talks to Hope by her locker. Heat rises inside of me when she leans in for a kiss, but Bryce turns his head just in time for her lips to connect with his cheek. She pouts for a moment but smiles when he accepts her hug. Bryce meets me at my locker just as I’m done swapping out my books. I shut my locker, and we walk down the hall together with his arm thrown over my shoulder like we’re the best of buds.
We barge through the doors, stepping outside into the ninety-degree furnace. His arm falls away from my shoulder, and his fingers link with mine, pulling me in the opposite direction to where my car is parked, ducking when we see one of our school’s resource officers riding on a golf cart through the parking lot. Getting caught skipping class will earn both of us Saturday school along with after-school detention. When he’s out of sight, we scramble across the parking lot until we get to Bryce’s Camaro. He opens my door, stopping me before I get inside his car. He leans in and pecks my lips. He pulls away and we stare at each other for a moment before he moves quickly to get in the driver’s side when we hear the whizzing sound of a golf cart.
Bryce brings the engine to life and quickly drives out of the school’s parking lot.
“That was so close,” I laugh, rolling my window down since his car doesn’t have working AC.
“Yes, it was.” Bryce dazzles me with a smile then reaches across the armrest, placing his hand on my bare thigh.
“Where are you taking me?” I relax my head against the headrest and stare at his profile, watching his eyes light up and his lips twitch into a smile.
“I’d rather show you.” His fingers tickle the inside of my thigh.
“Are you going to give me at least a clue?”
He shakes his head and continues to drive. Five minutes later, I start to feel sticky from the heat. I hike my skirt up a little higher on my thighs and fan myself. I chance a glance Bryce’s way to find him watching me.
“Keep your eyes on the road, Richardson.” I wink at him then look out the window, letting the warm air assail my skin.
“Wake up, sleeping beauty,” Bryce says quietly as he gently touches the side of my face.
I open my eyes and smile at him. “I can’t believe I fell asleep.” I stretch and look out the windshield to see that we’re parked in front of a small, old white, paint-chipped house with two rusted gas tanks in the front yard. The place reminds me of something you would see in The Walking Dead.
“Bryce, where are we?” I frown.
He opens his door and gets out
. I stay seated and watch him walk in front of his car, rounding to my side. He opens my door and holds his hand out for me to take. I slide my fingers through his, and we walk across grass that nearly touches my knees. I look around at the unfamiliar surroundings, catching glimpses of areas the sun rays touch: an old, beat-up shed, housing a tractor, and miles of yellow, dead grassland with round hay bales scattered about.
“Bryce.” My grip tightens around his.
“It’s okay,” Bryce consoles me. “All of this use to belong to my grandparents, and now it belongs to my uncle. The land, store, and everything else that sits on it.”
We tread carefully toward the tractor shed, walking around to the back where a garage is attached to it. He walks up to one of the garage doors, bends down to grips a handle, and releases a latch. He stands back and lets the door rise, causing dust to swarm out. I cough and fan my hand across my face. When the dust clears Bryce steps inside and stands beside an all-black motorcycle parked in the middle of the garage surrounded by old used tires, gas cans, tools, a red mechanic toolbox, and small cubbies lining the walls, filled with other knick-knacks.
I watch Bryce straddle the motorcycle and grip the handlebars. “What do you think?” he asks.
I walk over to where he sits on the motorcycle, looking sexier than ever in jean-clad legs stretched, arms flexed, muscles tightening, and eyes dark with mischief. All that is missing is a leather jacket and me, posted up behind him with my arms wrapped around him tightly and my thighs bracing him while my curls blow in the wind from beneath my helmet as we cruise up and down abandoned roads.
“My parents would kill me if they ever caught me on one of these.” I caress the Harley Davidson emblem. “Is it a Sportster?”
“It is.”
I look up and Bryce is staring at me intently. “Can I sit on it?”
F*ck Perfect (MindF*ck Book 2) Page 7