Beverly Hills Prep Academy The Complete Boxset : A Light Bully Romance

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Beverly Hills Prep Academy The Complete Boxset : A Light Bully Romance Page 9

by Melissa Adams


  Or with any of the other girls I hooked up with on the rebound, after I broke up with her.

  I want Ayla to like me, to see past the cool, popular football player whose Mom is married to a famous Hollywood director...

  I want her to know the real me, to understand my silences, to see what's behind the self assured and slightly d-bag façade I show the rest of the world.

  We play a couple of shooting games where I win a few little stuffed animals for her, then we walk around the stands that sell custom jewellery, tapestries and the ever present fair food.

  We eat turkey legs and corn dogs and at the end, we decide to share a funnel cake.

  We eat the cake while we walk and Ayla moans when she puts the fried dough in her mouth.

  “Hmm, I love funnel cake!”

  I wait until she's finished chewing it and try to stifle a laugh but she notices and asks me, narrowing those big green eyes of hers:

  “What? Have I got something on my face?”

  I chuckle.

  “Actually yes! You got powdered sugar all over your face, come here...”

  We stop walking and I draw her face nearer, holding her chin between two fingers.

  I begin trying to dust the powdered sugar off with my fingers but then I can't resist her pink, luscious lips and use my mouth to clean hers.

  I take her bottom lip between my lips and lick and suck on it, then repeat with her top lip.

  She lets me do it, looking in my eyes until I part her lips with my tongue and kiss her deeply, tasting the sweetness of the cake, flicking at her tongue with mine, playing with her a bit.

  I know that we're surrounded by people, so I break the kiss too soon. I take her hand again and we walk around the stands and towards the Ferris wheel in the rapidly declining daylight.

  I wish we were alone but at the same time, I feel better knowing that we're surrounded by people: both because I know that she isn't as experienced as the girls I’ve been dating and hanging out with...

  But mostly because of that wretched bet: I want to enjoy being with her tonight, without feeling guilty about the bet.

  Because I don't care about winning the stupid bet but unless I convince Alex to call it off, I’ll have to at least look like I’m playing and to do that, I’ll have to betray Ayla’s trust, even if I want to protect her.

  The only thing I can never do, is to betray my brothers.

  We’re almost at the end of the pier and I ask her if she wants to go on the Ferris wheel, when someone else's voice beckons us:

  “What a gorgeous couple! Would you like to know the future?”

  It's an old lady, dressed in a long purple skirt, a black blouse decorated by moons and stars, a gold head scarf tied around her long, white hair and huge hoop earrings and lots of bangles on her bony wrists.

  “Uhm, no. I...”

  Ayla doesn't look interested and that makes me like her more: Michelle would've dragged me into her pavilion, no matter how much I protested.

  “I’ll give you a free reading. Madame Agnieska never fails to predict the future!”

  We are about to walk away, when the lady grabs Ayla and drags her inside and I have no choice but to follow them.

  The inside of her small pavilion is dark, only a few candles scattered around provide some illumination.

  There’s a small round table and three chairs.

  The table is covered by a black, silky tablecloth and there's a crystal ball at the ready.

  Cliché describes Madame Agnieska and her pavilion to a T.

  Ayla looks at me, unsure and I’m about to drag her back out, when the clairvoyant grabs her hand, forcing her to take a seat opposite her.

  She inspects Ayla’s palm and then declares in a deep, staged voice:

  “You recently moved here... New school, new friends, new boyfriends...”

  I almost snicker at her: good guess! Ayla's accent gives away that she isn't from around LA.

  “I see formidable enemies, betrayal and heartache... Your heart is guarded and for good reason. You’ve been hurt in the past and now you're afraid to let people in... You are right to be cautious.”

  Ayla looks pale and I’ve had enough, so I stand up and take her hand but the fortune teller this time grabs my hand and tracing the lines of my palm with long, pointy nails, she whispers:

  “I see loss, I see pain... I see an indestructible bond in danger because of a wager... I see brotherhood and love, death and despair, passion and the possibility for redemption. You’ll be faced with hard choices and your loyalty will be put to the test.”

  I shove to get free from her grasp.

  “Ok, enough! Thank you!”

  I throw a few twenties on her table and guide Ayla out of the dark pavilion and into the warm September night.

  She’s quiet.

  The good mood of the beginning of our evening now gone.

  “Sweet girl... Hey...”

  She forces a smile on her face.

  “The stuff that fortune teller said—”

  I shrug and offer her my most confident and defiant smile.

  “Bullshit! No one knows the future, Ayla. And what she predicted? It's high school in a nutshell.”

  Ayla shrugs.

  “I don't know... I just... This dating all of you thing... I don't want to come between you, Alex and Tuna... I—”

  I cup her jaw and reassure her:

  “Just let us deal with each other. We’re used to it. We’ve been friends since the first grade. I know both Alex and Tuna want to be the one you choose at the end. And so do I. You just need to follow your heart and only worry about what makes you happy, ok?”

  She nods and I force a smile: deep down, the fortune teller’s words shook me too.

  But I know it's just the guilt because of that stupid bet.

  That's something I’ll try to fix.

  We do end the evening on the Ferris wheel, looking at the water, at the moon’s reflection and the many stars that shine above us from millions and millions of light years away.

  I have my arm around her shoulders and when our capsule stops at the apex of the wheel, I claim her mouth in the kind of kiss I’ve wanted to give her since the first time I kissed her at the sky bar.

  I play with her soft lips, brushing them with the softest touch I can muster and when she allows me in, I explore her mouth slowly and confidently and she kisses me back.

  I love the way Ayla gives herself to my kiss and for a perfect instant, it's just me and her, high up by the stars with our lips locked and our chests touching.

  Do I want more? Of course I do.

  But with her, I’m willing to wait until she’s ready and until it feels right.

  With my ex or a lot of other girls at school, I would have tried to park the car somewhere quiet and get at least a blow job but with her?

  If we were alone for a while tonight, I’d just be happy holding her in my arms to talk and learn what makes her who she is.

  I know I’d always be tempted to take things further but it's not all I want with Ayla.

  So when I drop her off and walk her to her front door, I place the softest possible kiss on her lips, look into her eyes and tell her that I can't wait to see her tomorrow at school.

  Ayla

  I WAKE UP STILL FEELING Sam’s lips on mine.

  Yesterday's date was perfect, if I didn't count that horrible fortune teller.

  Sam is very different than what I thought at first: that exchange with him on the first day of school?

  The way he had spoken to Michelle?

  I thought he was an asshole but now, knowing Michelle, I actually wonder what made him even take her on a second date, let alone date her for two years.

  And then there are Alex and Tuna...

  The first one is so gorgeous that it's intimidating, especially when you see how unapologetic he is about who he is and what he wants.

  And he's driven and relentless in pursuing what matters to him: he doesn't give his
loyalty and friendship easily but I suspect that once you get those things from him, you have a formidable friend by your side.

  I think there's much more to Alex than his alpha personality and his penchant for control and power, this is why I went out with him again after that disastrous first date when he couldn't keep his hands to himself.

  I won't let him steamroll me, like Jenna and Char said he would, but at the same time, I want to get to know him.

  And yes, I admit that his hot body and the things I hear about how good he is at all the things that I have no experience in, it's part of what piques my interest.

  That kiss we shared on Friday night is something I’ll never forget: there wasn't anything gentle about it.

  He made me literally bleed but somehow I crave his lips and his touch, however he wants to deliver them.

  What to say about Tuna?

  Of course he's as sexy and gorgeous as his two besties and on the outside, he’s always surrounded by people, always laughing and joking.

  But it's just a front: when no one’s looking at him, I see a deep sadness in his hazel eyes.

  He's obviously showing the outside world what they want to see and what they expect but I wanna know the real him.

  I suspect that it's worth it.

  How will I ever choose one?

  I guess that's a problem for future Ayla.

  Normally, I spend my time on the bus reading a book but today, all I can think about are the three boys that entered my life since I started at BHPA and I almost miss my stop.

  I walk to my locker to get my note taking supplies: all our books are digital except for Ms. Webber’s class.

  I saw some of the kids in my class take their notes on the iPads that the school has issued but I prefer the traditional pad and pen.

  “Can I carry your bag for you?”

  A voice makes me jump out of my skin when I close my locker door.

  “Omg! EM?”

  It's EM.

  “How long have you been standing behind me?”

  He smiles, showing perfect pearly whites and tries to take my notebooks from me.

  “Uhm, it’s just a couple of notebooks, nothing too heavy.”

  He takes my writing material and falls in stride with me and begins chatting about our course load and asks me which extra curricular activity I chose.

  Our course load is so intense that we're allowed only one extra curricular and I tell him that I chose to volunteer at the school library.

  “Really? Not cheerleading?”

  He seems disappointed to hear that and I ask him what made him think that I would want to cheer.

  “I don't know. Since you're dating the whole A-Team... Plus I made the football team too and I’d love to have more chance to hang out. You know, I’m very close with the guys and Alex is letting me pledge the A-Team, so—”

  Is he suggesting that I should date him too?

  I’m not sure and I don't say anything, just in case he isn't trying to flirt with me.

  “I think we should get to know each other better.”

  We’re at our classroom door and I make a non-committal noise, as I approach my desk: I don't miss Jenna's troubled expression at seeing me and EM walk in together .

  I suspect that she still has feelings for EM despite dating Josh and aside from the fact that I barely know EM and that my love life has gone from zero to super complicated in the space of two weeks, I would never pursue someone one of my girlfriends liked.

  So, I decided that I’ll be polite to EM but I won't encourage him and I’ll make sure that Jenna knows where I stand as I don't want to lose my only friends and I certainly don't need more drama.

  8.

  Call Me... Maybe?

  Ayla

  THE A-TEAM DOESN'T do subtle.

  They simply don't: they are used to being talked about and I think that they really like it.

  Lunch becomes quite a stressful affair because the guys make me sit at their table and make a huge show of getting my food for me and they seem to be trying to outdo each other.

  Alex sits on my right and Tuna and Sam rush to take a seat on my left and when Tuna gets there first, Sam sits opposite me, unceremoniously nudging one of his team members out of the way.

  If that wasn't already embarrassing enough, the only girl ever allowed at this table was Michelle when she was officially dating Sam.

  So I know that my presence at this table will set tongues wagging.

  Talking about the devil, Michelle’s sitting at the cheerleaders table and she shoots me poisoned looks.

  Whoever came up with the saying ‘if looks could kill’ must have had Michelle in mind.

  “Is your food ok?”

  Tuna.

  “Let me open your bottle of water for you.”

  Sam.

  “This chocolate pudding is really good, here, have some.”

  And Alex tries to feed me dessert from his own spoon.

  I try to move my head out of his trajectory but then I hear Michelle’s voice, dripping with sarcastic contempt:

  “She's already fat, Alex. She doesn't need no dessert!”

  I see red.

  The way I see it, I have three choices:

  Choice number one: ignore her.

  Choice number two: throw the chocolate pudding at her, hoping to get her smack in the face.

  Choice number three: make her more jealous than she already is.

  And I think that people like Michelle only understand their own kind of games.

  Sean’s ex was exactly like that and I regret not standing up to her, so I decide, no more.

  I smile at Alex and I scoot closer.

  “I don't want a spoonful of dessert. I want a mouthful of it, from you...”

  I take the teaspoon from his hand and smear some chocolate on his lips.

  I then lick his lips like Sam did with me last night with the powdered sugar.

  I don't know what the hell has happened to me since I walked into BHPA.

  This isn't normal behaviour for me, far from it.

  But she posted a video of me kissing Sam. I’m sure it was her.

  I probably shouldn't provoke her but something tells me that the only language Michelle understands is her own.

  She wants Alex and Sam and she's mad that she can't have them, so I rub it right in her face.

  But of course I hadn't thought about how Alex needs very little encouragement to behave inappropriately and as soon as my lips touch his, he tries to deepen the kiss and when I hear the first few whistles and laughs, I instinctively pull away from him and stand up.

  Michelle has obviously not had enough because she says, loudly enough that the whole cafeteria can hear her:

  “Slut! Do you feel powerful right now? Don't be mistaken, the moment all three of those assholes have banged you, they’ll toss you aside like the insignificant piece of white trash you are. And if I know them well enough, they'll get what they want fast, like they always do...”

  And her words hit very close to home: the reputation the A-Team has is that of fast hook ups, no string attached kind of guys.

  Even Sam apparently has had quite a few flings between breaking up with Michelle at the beginning of August and the beginning of school.

  I’m too stunned to say anything but EM surprisingly comes to my defence:

  “Michelle, this is enough. Ayla wasn't even speaking to you, so drop it.”

  Everybody is looking at us and the pressure becomes too much.

  My fight or flight instinct veers dangerously towards flight and I push Alex’s chest away from me and walk away.

  The whole scene has taken seconds and I run faster than the laughs and the snide comments of my peers.

  We have PE after lunch, so I run towards the girls locker room where Alex catches up with me, enters the room that is empty because lunch isn't over yet and slams the door shut, locking it.

  He's on me in seconds: I’m backed against a wall and Alex is grow
ling in my face, his lips a breath away from mine.

  “What did I tell you on Friday night? Remind me...”

  “Alex, I didn’t mean to reject you, I—”

  “What did I tell you, Ayla?”

  His fingers close around my wrists so tightly that I have to force myself not to cry out.

  “Not to reject you. You told me not to reject you again.”

  “Then why did you do it?”

  He’s so close to me that I can't think.

  His spicy, woodsy scent is all I can smell and his breath is fanning my lips.

  I can feel his body heat and the combination between his nearness and the force he's applying to my wrists makes me wanna cry out but at the same time has my body in complete turmoil.

  I feel blood rush to my neck and face, my nipples harden in my bra and liquid heat collects between my thighs.

  “I... I wasn't rejecting you. I wanted to piss Michelle off.”

  Alex pushes himself fully against me.

  His body is all hard planes and valleys: I’ve never seen him shirtless but I can only imagine how perfect he must look.

  “Next time, let me take care of Michelle but don't ever run out on me again.”

  His grip on my wrists is so tight that a single tear escapes my eye and rolls down my cheek.

  He must realise how hard he's squeezing because he lets go of my wrists but doesn't move away.

  “I don't know what it is with you, Ayla. You drive me crazy. Crazy with want, insane because you're all I can think about. If you reject me, I can't take it ... I can't...”

  Insane?

  He's right on that: I feel the same way.

  I admire him, I want him and I despise him all rolled into a hot, infuriating package.

  I know I shouldn't let him kiss me after the way he just held my wrists: I don't like this wild streak he’s got, it scares me.

  But at same time, I know rejection, because I’ve felt it too and I don't want to hurt him.

  So I move my lips and touch them to his and that's all it takes.

  He parts my lips with his tongue and all I can think about is how good his mouth tastes and feels against mine.

  Our first kiss was bruising and painful, this one’s fast paced and hungry.

 

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