Trouble: A BWWM Bad-Boy Billionaire Romance

by Zaftig, Alyse

  Trouble

  Alyse Zaftig

  Zaftig Publishing

  Contents

  Newsletter

  1. Suitcase

  2. Driving

  3. Spain

  4. Senior Year

  5. Pool

  6. Freshman

  7. Party Foul

  8. Hell

  9. Morning After

  10. Sex Shop

  11. Date Night

  12. Exploration

  13. Mr. Right Now

  14. Restaurant

  15. Coffee

  16. Prep

  17. Museum

  18. Thumping

  19. Pine Cone

  20. Pants

  21. Ready

  22. Fifth Date

  23. New Day

  24. Going Steady

  25. Thanksgiving Dinner

  26. Bandages

  27. Parental Approval

  28. Missing Her

  29. Get a Room

  30. Together

  31. Graduation Dinner

  32. Proposal

  From the Author

  Copyright

  Newsletter

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  1

  Suitcase

  Laila

  I closed my suitcase. "I think that's all of it."

  Nora was sitting on my bed with her arms wrapped around her knees. "I can't believe you're going. You are going to be my date to prom, right?"

  I winked. "I'm sure some hunk will take you off the market by then. You won't want to pretend that I'm your lesbian girlfriend."

  She laughed. "Everyone knows that we're best friends. Honestly, Laila, couldn't you stay a little longer?"

  "No," I said. "It's time for me to start my life. I'm just getting a jump start on it, that's all."

  "Maybe you'll meet some hot college guy," Nora said. "Maybe you can find some for both of us."

  "Not likely," I laughed. "I barely notice boys, unlike you."

  "True. You endure it whenever I think about guys. You know," she said, leaning in as if we were conspirators, "Trouble is going to college with you."

  I let out a soft sigh. "We've talked about this before. I'm going to stay away from him, before he steals and hides my cell phone again.” And again.

  Nora got off of my bed and looked out my window. "I'm telling you, girl, that boy and your brother are so hot."

  "Ew." I scrunched my face up like a gargoyle's. "That's gross."

  "Come on. You know your brother is hot."

  "Um, if you knew what he looked like as a kid, you would not think that, ever. And it's hard to have a crush on someone who wore a head brace to bed every night, besides the fact that we have the same dad. So, no, my brother is not attractive to me."

  "What about Trouble?" Nora asked me, a mischievous glint in her eye. "He's not blood-related to you."

  I shrugged. "Trouble and my brother are more alike than I am to my own brother. I mean, they look more similar."

  I looked in the mirror. "My hair is dark, and it's only straight because I get Brazilian blowouts. Chris and Trouble have lighter hair, lighter eyes, and lighter skin. Honestly, if you put the three of us on some reality show or something, people would think that Trouble and Chris were related, not Chris and I."

  "Ugh," Nora said as she threw herself back onto my bed. "You're no fun."

  I grinned at her. "You and Zoe are going to have a blast during senior year. Everyone is going to act on their old crushes. There's going to be so much drama everywhere. You thrive on that."

  "And you don't, even though you would have been valedictorian or salutatorian at least. Why do I have such a boring friend again?"

  "Because we read the same books, of course." I swatted her arm lightly. "You know how and why we became friends."

  Nora stared at my ceiling. "I'm going to miss you."

  "Girl, it's not like I'm even leaving the city. I'll see you on the weekends or whatever. We both have cars."

  "It's not the same as seeing you every day, though. I mean, who am I going to ask when I can't remember our homework?"

  I smiled. "You know that Cole has always had a thing for you. Heck, you could probably get him to do your homework for you if you wanted. Besides the fact that you'd get expelled for academic misconduct."

  "There's that," she agreed. "And also the fact that Cole is so short and pale. For heaven's sake, we live in Los Angeles. Why isn't he tan like the rest of us?"

  I grimaced. "I don't know. But Cole is smart, and he's a nice guy. You could do worse."

  Nora heaved a huge sigh. "I could do a lot better, too. Cole is like...I don't know...spinach. Like, it's not so bad, and it's good for you, but it's just...not exciting. People like your brother and Trouble are more like Swiss chocolate, you know? Just smooth, delicious, addictive, and bad for you." She flipped over on the bed and switched to cobra pose. "Do you remember Jordana?"

  I rolled my eyes. "Could I forget? Honestly, she was terrifying. When we got home from school, there she was, already in our driveway. While you and Chris were still in the driveway, I literally walked into the kitchen to see if there was a bunny boiling on the stove. That's how crazy she was."

  "She threw herself at Chris literally, telling him that he'd fucked her so well that she couldn't walk. She tried to tell him that she was pregnant."

  "Yeah, less than 24 hours after the only time they'd been together." I snorted. "She was totally crazy."

  "Chris might be irresponsible and wild, but at least he practices safe sex."

  My eyebrows shot towards my hairline. "Excuse me? How do you know that?"

  "I talked to some of his exes. I think there's more than one girl who wanted to get pregnant by him. I mean, you guys are billionaires."

  "My dad is a billionaire," I corrected. "Nobody else in the family is. Well, I guess maybe Mom."

  "You are so down to earth," Nora said. "Seriously, I can barely tell that your parents are billionaires from the way you act."

  "We weren't billionaires when I was younger. My dad was only a multimillionaire."

  Nora chuckled. "Oh my gosh, same difference."

  "It matters," I argued. "Daddy had more time for us then. But he's always tried to make time in his schedule to be with his family."

  "Yeah. I think it's cool that he and your mom are helping you move in. Most multimillionaires, let alone billionaires, would be hiring a moving service."

  "I don't have that much to bring, honestly. They have dorm furniture. It's mostly my clothes and my books."

  "Your books deserve a mover by themselves." She waved a hand at my empty bookshelves. "You don't have walls. You just have bookshelves."

  "Yeah," I said defensively. "And what's wrong with that?"

  "Nothing," Nora said. "But you have to admit that your books have to weigh a ton."

  "We weighed them," I said, blushing a little. "It's a little less than a ton."

  Nora shook her head. "Promise me that in college you'll loosen up a little. You won't have friends like me who can be bad influences on you, making you get out of your comfort zone."

  "I'll try to be a little bit bad," I promised. We walked downstairs. My suitcase made clunking noises as I pulled it down the stairs. "Have fun with Zoe, ok?"

  "I will. Bye, Mr. and Mrs. King." My parents waved at her. Nora flounc
ed out the door, off to cater to her busy social schedule.

  "You ready, sweetie?" My mom came to take my suitcase.

  "All set." I brushed invisible dirt off of my jeans. "I'm ready."

  2

  Driving

  Laila

  "You don't have to do this, you know, Laila. You can stay in high school for another year."

  "Daddy," I said, hugging him. "You know that I don't need to be in high school anymore. I'm 18, after all."

  He let out a long sigh. "I guess so. You'll always be my little one, though, right?"

  "Of course, Daddy," I said, smiling up at him.

  "Baby," my mom said. "You know that you can just come home whenever you want to, right? Just show up for dinner."

  "Mom, I am definitely showing up for dinner, but probably on the weekend. I'm probably going to be busy with school and stuff."

  "The stuff is what I'm worried about, sugar. Be careful out there, okay?"

  "Mom! I am literally going to still be in LA. Chill. It will be fine."

  We walked out onto the driveway. I put my suitcase in the back of my little blue Corolla. My parents didn't believe in ostentatious displays of wealth. They worried a lot more about reliability and safety when it came to their youngest child's car. I remembered the weeks that it took Dad to research the right car for me.

  I pulled out of our long driveway, and my parents followed me as I drove towards USC and my new life.

  I put on I Heart Radio, but I wasn't listening to the music. Even if I downplayed it for my best friend and parents, it was like I was going to a whole new world. I was leaving behind everyone I knew.

  Well, except for one person: Trouble. He was the only person from my high school who was going to USC. A handful of other people had been accepted, but only Trouble and my family could afford the monstrous cost of attendance.

  Because I was in the Resident Honors Program, my tuition was knocked down a lot. Still, it was a lot of money. Not a lot to someone like my dad, but a lot to someone like me, who didn't have billions of dollars in net worth. My parents were very generous, taking care of everything while I was at school. Most of the kids who went my prep school had parents who could afford the exorbitant expense of college, but some of the scholarship kids were taking out loans and getting financial aid. Even with USC's financial aid packages, they could not afford to go there. It was just too expensive.

  So Trouble and I were the only ones there. Everyone at school thought he was such a jock, and they had been absolutely shocked when he got into USC, which was highly selective. He downplayed it because he was such a clown and a player, but Trouble was actually really smart. His dead mom was a lawyer, and his dad was an awesome businessman. Trouble wasn't stupid. He didn't take himself too seriously, but his grades were really the only thing that his dad got involved in. Trouble had woken up to see a printout of the grade book from his classes with all of the assignments or tests where he didn't get 100% highlighted in yellow right there on his nightstand. His dad barely spent time with Trouble, but he somehow had the time to check his grades, even when he was on a business trip in Singapore. Trouble had very discreetly gotten excellent grades in high school, like me. He was in AP classes, but everyone assumed that he was just there because of Chris. The two of them were extremely disruptive in any classroom. I had taken AP Bio with them, and they joked around with beakers. After they had been forced to wash all of the glassware after some horseplay that left too much stuff broken, they'd calmed down.

  It was hard on me to have a class with them. I saw them all the time at home, since Trouble basically lived at our house. He had his own room and everything. He and Chris lived and breathed swim team. They left for 5 AM practice together, ate breakfast together, and carbed up at dinner together. They brought the prettiest, most popular girls back to our house to 'swim'. Their girlfriends came and went in a revolving door, but no girl could deny them. As the swim team co-captains, they were irresistible, and they knew it. They were like two peas in a pod.

  I didn't know if USC would be like AP Bio, or if Trouble would be a different person away from my older brother.

  I remembered the first day that I came back from Spain. It was the first day of my junior year.

  3

  Spain

  Laila

  I spent my summer in Valencia, studying abroad. I suddenly went from flat as a board to a luscious C-cup. I grew 5 inches. Guys got a lot more interested in me over there. When I ran out of cleanser during my first week, I went to a pharmacy to find another cleanser. I found a Garnier 3-in-1 cleanser, exfoliant, and mask that did the trick. It cleared up my persistent acne, the kind that two different dermatologists and years of pills couldn't handle.

  My parents gave me an unlimited credit card for the first time in my life. They said that they trusted me with it. I didn't want to spend too much, so I didn’t use it.

  In July, my mom had called.

  "What on earth are you living on, since you haven't bought a thing?"

  "My room and board are taken care of, Mom. I don't want to take advantage. I mean, a lot of the other kids are taking weekend trips to France and stuff, but I don't want to spend too much money."

  "Honey," my mom said patiently, "we gave you that card to have fun and to take care of yourself. Have fun."

  I'd been toying with an idea for a long time, but that call with my mom was my turning point. I went to a salon after class the next day to get a Brazilian blowout. There were a ton of rules about it, like not getting my hair wet, but it made my hair look great.

  I also started trying out makeup. My mom didn't use any, but she was so beautiful that she didn't need it. I learned over the course of the summer how to apply light, summery makeup, just enough to enhance my features.

  I was so excited to go back to school. My family was happy that my skin had finally cleared up, but at home I kept my hair up in a bun, like always.

  I drove myself to school early, so that I could put on my makeup without detection from my parents. I didn't think that they would mind, but I would rather not take the chance.

  Nora met me, and she helped me check my makeup. She promised that she would tell me if anything went where it wasn't supposed to be.

  I took a deep breath, and I got ready for my first class. I walked out into the hallway to get to my locker. Nora's locker was right next to mine. My textbooks were heavy in my backpack, and I was glad to get rid of them.

  "You look so good," Nora said. "If I weren't your best friend, I'd be jealous. We were so right to buy that raspberry dress for you."

  "I know!" I squealed. "It's so pretty."

  "Your makeup is still on point." She leaned close. "Maybe some of those senior boys will look at you..."

  "Ew, gross," I said. "I'm not wearing makeup because some gross guys want to look at me. I am wearing it because it makes me feel...I don't know...more confident. I feel more grownup wearing makeup."

  I sat in the commons with Nora. Our group sat at the corner table. Zoe and Nora were talking about purses while I meticulously filled out my assignment notebook with the names of my classes for all of the weeks.

  "Hey new girl, what's your name?" one of the senior swim team members said, sitting down at a table full of junior girls staring at him in shock. Brayden Roberts was one of the best-looking guys at the school, but he also had one of the worst reputations. Rumor had it that he could get the bra off of a girl in a half second. He and a bunch of his buddies had had a competition and timed it. He won.

  He was also the one who took Antonia Goodman's virginity over the summer. He made her take the sheets home and wash them when she got blood on them. Even in Spain, I'd heard about it. He was one of the biggest douches at our school.

  "She's not new," Nora cut in. "She's been here forever."

  "I must have been blind not to notice you before now." He smiled. "Can you forgive me?"

  I blinked. "Um, sure, I guess." The first bell rang, telling us that we had 5 minu
tes to get to class.

  "See you later," he told me.

  "Oh my god," Nora said as soon as he was out of earshot. "That was Brayden Roberts."

  "Ew, though, you know?"

  "Yeah, but that's just the beginning! There'll be so many other senior boys."

  4

  Senior Year

  Trouble

  It was the end of the first day of my senior year. Chris and I went to swim practice.

  When we got to the locker room, Brayden Roberts was sketching a woman's body in the air.

  "What, is that your new girlfriend, Roberts?" I taunted. "Can't get any real girls to date your ugly ass?"

  He only smiled at me. "There's a hot chick that I'm calling dibs on. You can have her after I'm done, though, Trouble. She's got curves out to here, and she's so hot. She's a junior, but I don't think I've ever seen her before. About this tall, dark skin, dark eyes."

  "Are you talking about Laila?"

  Chris' voice was dangerous, but Brayden didn't hear it.

  "Your little sister?" Brayden frowned. "Your little sister is short and has acne. I'm sure she's a nice person, but I wouldn't touch her with a ten-foot pole. Maybe twenty. She's a goody two shoes, and I like my women easy, like the new girl."

  Out of nowhere, Chris tackled Brayden to the ground and started punching him in the face.

  Cameron and I pulled Chris off of Brayden.

  "Chill, man," I said. "If you fuck him up too much, he's not going to end up in the next meet. Coach will make you sit it out, too, if he hears about this."

  "Stay away from her," Chris warned.

  “Fuck you,” he said, spitting blood on the ivory tile. “You don’t own me, and you can’t protect her forever. When you’re gone in a year, there’s nothing stopping me. I don’t give a fuck if she’s your sister, man. She’s hot.”