The Sweet Series Box Set: Books 1-4

by Bailey Ardisone

  But now that I was there, standing in front of him, my mind went blank. I wanted to tell him to get out of my seat, but just looking at him was making me nervous.

  “It’s you again. Hello,” he said in a velvety English accent.

  I could feel my mouth gaping open like a fish, but no words came out. Pull it together would you?!

  “H-h-hi. Hello,” I spat out, but barely. “You’re in my seat.”

  “Oh, am I? I’m sorry,” he said with a grin.

  “Yes, so, could you maybe move?” I didn’t know why I was being so rude; I was just frustrated that I couldn’t figure out this strange mystery that all of a sudden plagued my life.

  “But I like this desk. I can see why you chose it. You get to sit back here and observe the whole room, taking in everything that is discussed 'bout literature and it’s right by the windows. Please, can I stay?” he said to me while batting his eyelashes. “With a cherry on top?” Each word was perfectly clipped. Why were accents so darn sexy?

  His entire presence and foreign charm completely caught me off guard. I easily conceded to him. “Okay,” was all I could say. I slowly walked to the last empty desk in the room and just as slowly sat down. I was being completely ridiculous, I knew that. But why did he—

  Hold on—why was he staring at me? Why was I looking at him?! I quickly looked to the front of the room, my cheeks burning.

  What in the world was he doing here? My sculpture—could he have fixed it? Would he have?! I had to resist the urge to glance at him again. I couldn’t picture him fixing it for me…Why would he do that? I unconsciously looked at him—crap! What was wrong with me? Keep your eyes straight in front of you, Nari! You could do this! Ignore the stupid guy!

  But in that short—torturously way too short—second that I got to look at him, something odd stuck out in my mind. He was effortlessly balancing a Sharpie on the tip of his left index finger, looking very bored. Too bored. Hmph.

  I refused to succumb to the charms of a man just because they spoke in an alluring accent and looked completely devilish. And hot. That would be the last time I ever let myself fall prey to his cunning tricks.

  ….I hoped.

  As the novelty of surprise wore off, and the longer I sat listening to Mr. James go on and on about whatever, I couldn’t shake this eerie feeling that started creeping up my spine. For whatever reason, the new guy was beginning to freak me out. I had a strange alarming sensation in my gut, as if telling me he was dangerous. But all of it was nothing compared to what I felt out in the hallway after class ended.

  I slowly stood up to gather my things, hoping that everyone, and I mean everyone, would leave so I could get to my next class without speaking to anyone. Or at least one particular person.

  But as soon as I walked out the door he was there next to me, making me almost jump to the roof like a cat with my hair standing on end. He looked amused and wore a very adorable smirk. He backed me up against the lockers, pinning me with only his aqua eyes, and as he leaned down, both hands in his pockets, I stood there trapped by my own wonder at what was about to happen. But all he did was lean into the left side of my hair and take a long inhale of breath through his nose, like he was smelling me.

  “Mmmm,” was all he moaned before he gracefully skipped backward like a mountain lion and walked away, leaving me completely and utterly freaked. What the heck was that? That had to be the creepiest thing I had ever experienced.

  And hottest.

  But I refused to acknowledge that part.

  I began to dread going to any more classes, afraid he would be there. It all came to nothing though, because it turned out that I didn’t end up seeing him again the entire rest of the day. Thank the lord! Something was finally going my way.

  The next day, I was too scared to walk into Literature. I stood there at the door, hand over my heart, trying to calm down my nerves. I didn’t know what it was, but something about that guy had me frightened. I asked Zaylie and Desmond about him, but none of them saw him. Zaylie didn’t even remember seeing him in class yesterday. That right there had me reeling, expecting to see him anywhere I turned and being the only one who did. If I was starting to see ghosts, someone please just kill me now.

  I took a deep breath and stepped into the classroom. I was overcome by a feeling of relief and giddiness upon discovering that my favorite seat was empty and he was nowhere to be seen. I practically ran to it and sat down. I turned to Zaylie to say hi.

  “Boy am I glad to be able to sit next to you again.” I was practically ecstatic and had no intention of hiding it.

  “Oh, me too. It’s so weird that I don’t remember who was sitting here yesterday. I know there was a person, but I guess my mind took absolutely no notice of him. Either way, I’m glad you’re here now.” She beamed at me.

  “Let’s just hope it stays this way. If whoever he is goes to this school now and is in our class, I’m afraid we’ll be seeing a lot more of him. And if he tries to take this seat, I am ready to fight him to the death! Or, at least, until one of us gives in,” I finished with a brave smile.

  I wasn’t exactly sure if that was true or not. I didn’t want to be intimidated by him and especially didn’t want to be afraid of him. I was hoping that yesterday was a fluke and I’d quickly learn that there was nothing to be afraid of. He was just a boy. A very hot, 100% gorgeous boy mind you, with kinky tendencies and complete lack of acceptable social behavior. But that was beside the point.

  “Wanna hang out this weekend?” I asked Zaylie, desperately trying to change the subject.

  “Yes! I have been dying to show you this new series I’ve read. Well, it’s not ‘new,’ it’s a couple years old, but it’s new to me. You’ll totally love it! I think it might be my all-time favorite so far!”

  “Really? That sounds great! So you think it will be okay if I came over to your house?” I sure hoped it was okay, because there was no way I’d bring her to my place. I didn’t want to emotionally scar the poor girl after just becoming friends with her.

  “Of course! I’m positive my parents will be cool with it. I can text you later so you know for sure though. I can even pick you up.” She grinned, making me grin back.

  “Awesome,” I practically squealed just as the bell rang and Mr. James closed the door to get class started.

  A week came and went and not once did I see…whatever his name was. Every day I walked into Literature I expected him to be at my desk, ready to argue or beg and plead if I had to, over my seat. My fear of him was slowly, very slowly, dissipating, but it was for some reason being replaced by disappointment with each passing day I didn’t encounter him. Which was actually more terrifying for me. I couldn’t understand my fascination with this mysterious boy, and it really started to irritate me.

  How could I uphold the promise I made to myself when I was six if all I could think about was this dumb guy that looked to be the very definition of danger?

  Thankfully, Zaylie and I took a much needed girl's day over the last weekend, and that actually kept my mind off things. I spent the day at her house and experienced what it was like for the first time to have a friend that was a girl. We talked for hours and hours about so many different books. She showed me all of her favorites and gave perfect descriptions that would make any person want to read them all.

  Then we had dinner with her parents and Desmond, which was very rare for me to actually sit down to a nice dinner. I’ve only had dinner with Rydan’s family a few times, which was nice but didn’t happen often. Zaylie and Desmond’s parents were hilarious, making me realize full well where Desmond gets his goofy sense of humor, and the homemade food was a luxury for me.

  Later, Zaylie taught me how to braid my hair and color my nails. She also showed me the best tips for putting on makeup, which was something I desperately needed since I had no clue. I didn’t even own makeup, since I didn’t exactly have the money to spend on stuff like that, not including the fact I had no mother to teach me how to use it.
Zaylie let me pick out a few items that I could keep for myself, and I promised her I would use them.

  By the end of the day, I felt completely done-up and pretty. I of course made sure to take as many pictures as I could with my new little camera. It made me think of Rydan and how thankful I was, since I wouldn’t have been able to capture those moments if it wasn’t for him.

  I decided then that I was going to somehow give him a gift in return. Something I could create myself. Painting was my specialty - it was what I was always drawn to do - so I was leaning more toward that. I just didn’t know what the painting should be yet.

  Desmond walked in one time, wondering what all the laughing and giggling was about. Once he saw the hairbrushes, twenty different bottles of nail color sprawled across the bed, and piles of makeup, he quickly did a complete 180 and went back the other way. It only caused more laughing from us girls.

  The best part was, not once did I think of the dark, handsome, kinda scary stranger. For just that one day, I no longer felt seventeen. Instead, it was like we were thirteen again and just experiencing what it was like to be a teenager. It was one of the best days I ever had.

  Zaylie and her mom both insisted her and I had a slumber party, so I ended up spending the night—another first for me—and woke up feeling completely refreshed and new. It was like I could finally understand what it felt like to wake up without a grouchy old man yelling at me all the time. I didn’t have to worry if he was about to storm in and scream at me for doing something wrong or to hurry up and clean up a mess he just made or finish the laundry.

  It was an amazing feeling, and I wished I never had to go back.

  But alas, when I did go back home later that night, I spent the evening catching up on as much reading as I could. Zaylie insisted I borrow several more series that she claimed I just had to give a try and was expecting a full report on what I thought of them after I was finished.

  One thing was for certain.

  I loved my new friends.

  Chapter Eleven

  ~Naminé~

  Prisoner number 5287 was located deep in the dungeon. Down a long corridor, past fifty-two prison cells, all filled with ones considered an enemy of the King. They were all his own people, but he condemned them traitors. Some were actual criminals, given a trial and convicted of their crimes. But there were many who never got a trial, never got a say, not even named on the prisoner logs, and forgotten in the dark abyss of the prison.

  Down the corridor, three flights of stairs, and through a warded iron gate held a small cage like cell that housed the oldest prisoner here. Prisoner number 5287.

  I didn’t know his name.

  I didn’t know his crime.

  But he gave me hope.

  Chapter Twelve

  ~Nari~

  I really began to wonder how that boy could attend school for just one day and seemingly not ever come back. Did he get confused and was just in the wrong class that day? Or was he really skipping over a week's worth of school? It only made him more mysterious, and of course that bothered me. Not once had I seen him since he stole my seat, and so I no longer expected to see him when I walked in. Today was no different, completely forgetting about him by the time class ended, and I made my way to Algebra.

  Apparently letting my guard down was a big mistake because not expecting him at all had me completely floored when I walked in and there he was in all of his sexy glory.

  You had got to be kidding me. He looked like he just stepped out of a magazine, mysteriously gracing us with his presence. His black hair was tousled, and his angular face never looked more handsome. Not that I’d had the pleasure of seeing it that often to really say…

  The sharp cut of his jaw was peppered with scruff from not shaving, and the way he looked up at me from under his eyelashes gave me heart palpitations. Again, he wore dark pants and a dark grey fitted long-sleeved shirt pushed up to his elbows, similar to the first time I saw him. Realizing I was gawking at him, he smirked at me then. I consciously forced my mouth closed after feeling it was hanging open.

  As I made my way to an open desk, I started to feel afraid again. He seemed dangerous. I looked over at him, deciding to face my fears, and sure enough he was already looking at me. I forced a smile, refusing to let him know he frightened me. Wasn’t that always how it went? If you showed fear, it only made the shark or lion more interested in you, making them attack.

  I chuckled to myself, feeling silly for comparing a person to ferocious animals. He wasn’t going to attack me.

  …was he?

  I didn’t even notice that class had started when Mr. Dale suddenly called me. “Ms. Woodlinn!” he practically yelled. He must've been calling my name several times.

  I jerked my head up. “Uh, yes?” I replied sheepishly.

  “Were you not listening? Pay attention, Nari. This is important. What is the answer to the equation on the board?”

  “Umm…” Oh great. Everyone was staring at me. I had no idea what the answer was.

  Let’s see

  5a-3(3a+1)-8a=45

  What the?? It all looked like gibberish to me! “Umm…” was all I could keep saying as I tried to think. I didn’t want to look stupid; I had to get this right!

  “Negative four,” a smooth, clipped accent that was going to end up haunting me in my dreams called out.

  I whipped my head around to stare at Mr. Smartypants, and apparently everyone else was just as surprised as I was by him. He sat there, completely calm and unbothered by the full attention. Actually…he almost looked bored again.

  “Thank you, uh...” I quickly turned my attention back to Mr. Dale, waiting to finally hear what this guy’s name was. Surely, the teacher would know. But, Mr. Dale only looked completely confused, like he had never seen this strange boy before in his life. “Wait, who—”

  It sounded like Mr. Dale was going to ask who the boy was, but just then the strangest thing happened. Mr. Dale closed his eyes and lightly shook his head before saying, “Ah, yes, thank you, Mycah.” He had the strangest look in his eyes, like he was dreaming, and when he said the words they came out sounding very distant.

  I looked around the room, wondering if everyone, or at least anyone else saw what I had just seen, but I seemed to be the only one. Of course.

  I sat back in my chair, completely baffled, and a new wave of terror washed over me. Who was this guy?

  In his absence, I had contemplated working up the nerve to ask him about my sculpture when I saw him again. Then after not seeing him for days I started to wonder if I’d ever get the chance…now I wasn't so sure I wanted it anymore.

  So Mycah was his name? It sounded so normal and...nice. I never would've guessed that. He looked more like an Al Capone or Hannibal Lechter or Captain Hook. Okay, maybe he wasn't actually a movie villain, but Mycah just sounded so human. And he definitely felt anything but human to me.

  I glanced his way one more time. He was scribbling on his right arm with that same silver metallic Sharpie I saw him with before. For some reason, I found the notion that he was left-handed hot. Ugh.

  But then that made me notice he didn’t have paper. Or books. He had absolutely nothing with him except that Sharpie.

  Strange.

  When I thought about it, I didn’t remember seeing him with any books that day in my Literature class either. Not that I was able to focus on anything other than my own shock of seeing him in the first place.

  His eyes suddenly shifted to mine, so I instantly averted my gaze back to my own trembling hands that sat in my lap. God, was he nerve-racking.

  Now that it was lunchtime, I desperately searched for Zaylie. I spotted her sitting by herself and rushed over to sit with her. I didn’t even stop to get food first. I lost my appetite somewhere between walking into Algebra and witnessing freaky phenomena.

  “Zales, you are never going to believe what happened this morning,” I could barely get the words out fast enough. I desperately wanted her opinion. Surely, after
I tell her, she’d just explain that I was a crazy person and belonged in the loony bin. I would gladly accept that answer over what I had been contemplating instead.

  “Does it have anything to do with that Mycah bloke?” she asked chewing through food and with eyes wide open.

  “Uh, yes! How did you know?” I asked, my eyes matching the size of hers.

  “Oh, everyone is talking about him. I guess he is just visiting and staying at that O’Malley’s Bed & Breakfast over on Maine Street. All the girls are going on and on about how hot he is, and all the boys are complaining about how annoying he is. The boys are just jealous,” she explained with an eye roll.

  I temporarily got stuck on the information of where he was staying. The O’Malley B&B—that was the one Rydan’s parents owned.

  “Okay, so what happened??” she pressed, growing impatient at my silence.

  “You know how we haven’t seen him in a week and a half and he is supposed to be in our Literature class?” She nodded eagerly, so I continued, “Well, as you know, he wasn’t there again in Literature, but would you believe me if I told you that sure enough, there he was just sitting there in my Algebra class?!”

  “Stone the crows!” she practically shouted in a thicker than usual Australian accent.

  “…Stone the…what now?” I asked, shaking my head in confusion.

  “Oh, sorry.” Her face was completely red. I realized it was another one of their Aussie terms and busted out laughing, she joining me.

  “Okay, go on go on!” she ordered after we both tried to get serious again.

  “Okay, so, I’m sitting there in my own little world, not realizing that Mr. Dale called on me to answer some stupid equation. When I finally take notice, I have no idea what the answer is. It was seriously the longest math equation I had ever seen.” I couldn’t help but be dramatic with my story—Zaylie was completely enthralled. “I just stared at the board, not having any idea how to solve it. But then, out of nowhere, Mycah calls out the answer, and I can tell Mr. Dale has no idea who he is, but then all of a sudden, this weird thing happens with his face and he then magically knows who he is!” I finished by throwing my arms up in the air and letting them fall back down.