Bad For You: An Enemies to Lovers Romance

by Taylor Holloway

  Bad for You

  Taylor Holloway

  Copyright © 2019 by Taylor Holloway

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  About This Book

  Prologue

  Prologue

  1. Aimee

  2. Brandon

  3. Aimee

  4. Brandon

  5. Brandon

  6. Aimee

  7. Aimee

  8. Aimee

  9. Brandon

  10. Aimee

  11. Brandon

  12. Brandon

  13. Aimee

  14. Brandon

  15. Brandon

  16. Aimee

  17. Brandon

  18. Aimee

  19. Aimee

  20. Brandon

  21. Aimee

  22. Aimee

  23. Brandon

  24. Aimee

  25. Aimee

  26. Brandon

  27. Aimee

  28. Brandon

  29. Aimee

  30. Aimee

  31. Brandon

  32. Aimee

  33. Brandon

  34. Aimee

  35. Brandon

  36. Aimee

  37. Brandon

  38. Aimee

  39. Brandon

  40. Brandon

  41. Aimee

  42. Brandon

  43. Brandon

  44. Brandon

  45. Aimee

  46. Brandon

  47. Brandon

  48. Aimee

  49. Brandon

  50. Aimee

  51. Brandon

  52. Aimee

  53. Brandon

  54. Aimee

  55. Brandon

  56. Aimee

  57. Brandon

  58. Aimee

  59. Brandon

  60. Brandon

  61. Aimee

  62. Brandon

  63. Aimee

  Epilogue

  Epilogue

  Admit You Want Me

  Also by Taylor Holloway

  The boy next door.

  Star of my teenage fantasies.

  My tormentor.

  After serving as an army doctor in some of the most dangerous places on Earth, Brandon has finally come home. And he’s brought his cocky, alpha attitude and rugged good looks with him. To my hospital. He’s still a loose cannon and I’m right in his sights.

  But instead of begging for him to stop, this good girl is having to stop herself from begging for more.

  I thought I put my obsession with this moody bad boy to bed.

  It now appears that's right where he wants me.

  I’ve always made good choices.

  But this time I’m worried I’ll pick the one that's bad for me, even if Brandon feels oh so right.

  ‘Bad for You’ is a sweet and sexy romance featuring a bully turned military hero and a smarty-pants girl next door on a twisted road to happily ever after. It stands alone with no cheating, cliffhangers, or nonsense.

  Prologue

  Aimee

  By the time I saw Brandon coming, it was too late to run away. Two of the lumbering mouth-breathers he called friends were with him. All I could do was hope they’d ignore me today, but I was never that lucky.

  “Hey Brandon, I think I just found your prom date,” Hunter joked, sweeping into the living room where I was studying. He plopped down next to me on the couch and nearly sent me flying. “You’d definitely get the pity vote for Prom King if you brought the ugliest girl in school. You’d win in a landslide.”

  Jaime guffawed and Brandon rolled his eyes dismissively.

  Brandon didn’t even look at me when he replied. “Yeah, no thanks.” He motioned toward the palatial kitchen, which was nothing like the modest kitchenette in the garage apartment my mom and I shared next door. “Come on, man,” he argued, “I’m starving. That extra mile we had to run because your lazy ass made us late to practice made me freakin’ hungry.”

  Hunter ignored him, inching closer to me to invade my privacy and stare into my face with an intensity that made me feel deeply uncomfortable—though, not as uncomfortable as the smell that was wafting off him from football practice. He smelled like a gym sock that fell into a vat of Axe body spray and then smoked a cigarette. I really despised Hunter, especially today. I’d had a particularly lonely, crappy day and all I wanted was to study in peace.

  “What do you say, Aimee,” Hunter asked, taking a big sip of the Slurpee I’d bought on my walk home from school. “Do you want to go to the prom with Brandon? It’ll be just like Cinderella.”

  Hunter let out a cackling, mean-spirited bark of laughter when I didn’t reply. I grabbed my gigantic sugary drink back from his nasty hands. I wouldn’t be going to prom. I couldn’t afford a dress and I didn’t have a date. Also, and most importantly, I was only thirteen. Being a thirteen-year-old sophomore in high school was horrible. I was miles behind everyone else physically and emotionally, even though I was ahead of them academically. No one wanted to come anywhere near me, unless they were teasing me.

  I could feel myself blushing as I stared down at my trigonometry homework. I wished I could set it aflame with my brain and use it as a distraction to run away. I searched my data banks for some snappy comeback, but there was nothing. I was smart, but it wasn’t any help in this situation. Smarts were useless against bullies. I could solve trigonometry problems all day, but I had no solution to this daily torture.

  “I don’t think your chubby little stepsister likes me much,” Hunter said to Brandon.

  I winced. I wasn’t Brandon’s stepsister, but I was chubby. I just wished I didn’t have to be reminded of it day after day. I guess I shouldn’t have bought the Slurpee. There were probably a billion calories in it. At this rate, I’d always be fat.

  “She’s not my stepsister,” Brandon reminded his friend grumpily. “She’s just my mom’s assistant’s kid, remember?”

  “Why is she always at your house?”

  “Beats me.” He shrugged. “My dad lets her, I guess.”

  I took a gulp of my drink to disguise my expression. My mom wasn’t his mom’s assistant. She was her constant nurse. Brandon’s mom had lung cancer. The very bad kind. But Brandon’s friends didn’t know that, and I wasn’t going to tell them. I could only imagine that Brandon would hate me even more if I did.

  But why did Brandon and his asshole friends always have to do this in the first place? Was it really that much fun to torment me? It wasn’t my fault I was ugly, pudgy, and too smart for my own good. It wasn’t my fault that my mom worked for his mom, either, or that I had to spend so much time here at Brandon’s house.

  Secretly, I wished I was pretty, tan, rich and popular like the girls Brandon took on dates. Lexi, his current girlfriend, looked like she could hop up onto a runway at fashion week. She drove a brand new, white Mercedes convertible and dressed like she’d never seen a Goodwill. But none of that was in the cards for me. My cards doomed me to be short, pale, frizzy-haired, quiet, fat, poor, and incredibly nerdy. It was my destiny. At least, for now.

  “Just let me study,” I said sullenly when Hunter turned back to me with a glint in his squinty eyes. I shoved my thick, ill-fitting glasses up the bridge of my nose. He laughed again, and when I peeked up at him, he had a knowing look on his face.

  “You like him, don’t you?” he teased. Against my will, my
eyes were drawn over to Brandon. With his strong, chiseled jaw, penetrating dark eyes, straight nose and muscular body, Brandon starred in every one of my teenage daydreams. I looked guiltily back at Hunter.

  “Hardly.” I tried to infuse my words with the same kind of cold dismissiveness that Brandon always used on me, but it was fruitless. Against my better judgement and rational mind, I had a serious soft spot for Brandon. Despite the fact that he endlessly teased and bullied me, and allowed others to do so, my awkward teen heart went crazy for Brandon. He was the smartest, most popular, best-looking guy I’d ever seen. But I was nothing but a nuisance to him.

  “You do,” Hunter insisted. “You’ve got yourself a little crush on Brandon, don’t you?”

  I shook my head and tried to look nonchalant and cool. Brandon didn’t just dislike me; he actively hated me and only me. But even though he was a dick to me, Brandon wasn’t all bad. He volunteered at the animal shelter. Even at thirteen, I had a thing for guys who were kind to puppies.

  “Hunter, if you like her so much, why don’t you take her to the prom yourself?” Jaime asked, elbowing Hunter so he leaned closer to me on his other side to avoid the blow. I bristled at the contact with his body.

  Hunter made a disgusted face that prompted Brandon and Jaime to laugh. The sound of being laughed at was finally, after months, beginning to be more obnoxious than just hurtful. I was sick of being laughed at and derided for just existing.

  “I wouldn’t be caught dead with her,” Hunter replied. “Mopeds are really fun to ride, but nobody wants to be seen in public on one. Fat chicks are the same way.” His voice was snide.

  Brandon rolled his eyes again and headed toward the kitchen, clearly bored with me and this situation.

  “I’m going to get food. Come on,” he told his friends.

  They didn’t follow, choosing to stay and torment me. My heart started to pound.

  I may not be popular and pretty, but I’m no idiot either. And I certainly didn’t want to date one like Hunter. More importantly, I was getting tired of being picked on.

  “I don’t like you assholes either,” I mumbled coldly.

  “What was that?” Jaime asked, raising his eyebrows and stepping closer to me. His shadow was big enough to cloak me in a pool of darkness. I stared up at him insolently, finally fed up enough to retaliate against the both of them.

  “I’d never date any assholes like you two idiots,” I snapped.

  “Did you hear that?” Jaime asked. He looked stunned that I was actually sticking up for myself after meekly absorbing their abuse for the last few months. “She thinks that she’s too good for us.”

  “Is it really that much fun to bully a thirteen-year-old girl? Don’t you have anything better to do?” I asked them, shifting uncomfortably in my seat. “Why don’t you just leave me alone? Or are you too stupid for anything but insulting girls?”

  After drinking seventy-two ounces of Slurpee, I really had to go to the bathroom. I tried to get up, but Hunter grabbed my wrist and kept me on the couch.

  He leered at me and brushed my hair back behind my ear as I recoiled in a sudden burst of fear and loathing. “Aimee, Aimee, Aimee,” he said teasingly, “we know you don’t really want to be alone, do you? You like us. I mean, nobody else pays you any attention but me and Jaime. Brandon certainly doesn’t like you, and you have no friends. Everyone hates you. We’re the best you’ve got.”

  I flinched. “Go away.” My voice sounded incredibly weak in my own ears.

  This was worse than our previous encounters. It felt… different. Bad different. Out of nowhere, my blood ran cold and fear overtook anger.

  Brandon was still in the other room. I belatedly became aware that I was boxed in by two guys who were a lot older, taller, and stronger than me. They were both seniors, like Brandon. This house was huge. It’s possible no one would hear me if I yelled for help.

  I should never have bought that Slurpee. I felt like I was about to wet my pants if I didn’t get to a bathroom soon, and being spooked didn’t help that problem.

  “Look, she’s scared,” Jaime said, egging Hunter on. Their eyes shone with excitement, like predators at night. My fear clearly fed their appetite for cruelty.

  “Don’t be afraid of me,” Hunter whispered in my ear, “I’m not going to hurt you. Don’t tell anyone this, but I’ll make an exception for you. I have a soft spot for virgins. I can do you face down; you can pretend I’m Brandon and I won’t have to see your face. It’s a win-win.”

  I squirmed away from him, shocked, horrified, and disgusted. No one had ever said anything so crude to me. I’d only had my period for two years, and only been seriously interested in boys for one. Brandon was the only boy I’d ever fantasied about, and I didn’t know what to do with those feelings at all. He was clearly too old for me and way out of my league. Hunter, on the other hand, disgusted me. I definitely wasn’t ready for what Hunter was suggesting, and never, ever, with him. Frightened tears burned the corners of my eyes.

  “Don’t talk to me like that!” I snapped. “Let me go!”

  Hunter laughed maniacally. “She believed me!” he told Jaime. “She actually thought I’d fuck her! Her. She seriously thought I’d stoop that low.” Then he looked at me. “The last thing I need is to go to jail for chubby jailbait.” I could feel his hot breath on my cheek.

  “Screw you!” I said again, more sharply. I was crying now, and it hurt my pride to know they saw it. I managed to wriggle out awkwardly from under his arm and start toward the back door. “Just leave me alone!”

  Hunter swept his leg out and tripped me effortlessly, sending me sprawling on the ground. I made a frightened little yelp, bruising my knee on the hard, stone floor. Hunter and Jaime laughed like I was the most entertaining thing they’d ever seen.

  “Where are you going, Aimee?” Jaime asked insolently. “We were just kidding.”

  I twisted around from my position on the floor to see both of them approaching me. I had no idea what was happening, but I knew that a line had just been crossed. I was on the ground, hurt, crying, and they were still coming. What were they going to do? Hurt me? Humiliate me? Assault me? My bladder, which had been yelling at me for thirty minutes, gave way in terror and shame. Time seemed to slow to a crawl.

  From the corner of my blurry vision, Brandon came out of nowhere. He shoved Hunter against the wall with his shoulder, punched him in the gut, and then turned to pin him by the neck in a smooth movement. It all happened so fast. Jaime and I could do nothing but stare. In the scuffle, a vase was knocked from a table and shattered on the ground next to me. Little pieces of blue and white porcelain rained down.

  “What the fuck are you doing?” Brandon screamed at Hunter. “She’s just a kid!”

  “We were just messing around,” Hunter rasped. “I wasn’t going to actually do anything.” Brandon’s hands were shaking with anger and his expression was positively furious.

  “She’s a kid,” he repeated. “A little girl.”

  Brandon turned to look at me, now lying balled up on the ground, crying, shaking, surrounded by broken shards of vase, and smelling like pee.

  “What did you do?” Brandon said. He seemed horrified. “What the fuck did you do to her?”

  “She’s fine,” Hunter said, rolling his eyes despite looking like he couldn’t take a second punch. “She tripped is all. I swear I didn’t touch her. We were just kidding…”

  Brandon clearly didn’t buy it. He took a deep breath, but a large thump from upstairs indicated that someone had heard the vase shatter and the yelling. Brandon straightened abruptly and stared at his friends. “You two should go to the party without me. I’ll catch up.”

  “But—” Hunter started.

  “Get out.”

  Something in the murderously low, gravelly tone of his voice convinced them not to argue. Or maybe it was the hard, bleak look in his black eyes. Either way, they exchanged a nervous glance, nodded, and all but ran out the door.

  �
��Are you okay?” Brandon asked me. For the first time, he used a regular tone of voice with me. He sounded so nice. He’d saved me.

  I blinked and then nodded. I was embarrassed, my knee throbbed, and I’d literally wet my pants in fear. But it was worth it to finally be treated like a person by Brandon.

  “Brandon, what the hell is this?” The irate voice was coming from our left.

  Dr. Koels, Brandon’s father, was standing on the stairs.

  Prologue

  Brandon

  My dad bore down on me in a rage, taking in the broken vase, sobbing little girl, and hole in the drywall where I’d slammed Hunter’s head into it. I backed up, suddenly worried that I was about to get smacked myself. My dad had never hit me before in my life, but he looked more hateful than I’d ever seen. Even though I was taller than him by several inches, he was much angrier than me. His face was beet red and a vein protruded from his forehead.