Bailey And The Bad Boy

by R. Linda

  “You can’t say that to me and just walk off.” His voice was deep and husky again. I nodded my head so he knew I understood what he was saying. He took a step back, and I had to wrap my arms around his neck so I didn’t fall backwards. Suddenly I felt the soft cushions from the small sofa in the corner of the kitchen at my back with Ryder hovering above me waiting for my reaction.

  I didn’t even know how I felt about it. I couldn’t think when he was that close to me. He clouded my judgement. My brain stopped working, and he just seemed to take over my senses completely. When he was around, he was all I felt and saw. His touch had a power over me that I would never understand. He made me feel calm when I was scared or nervous. He made me feel safe and wanted. He made me want. Want him. And I didn’t know what to do about that. I shouldn’t want him. It was all pretend. But there was this pull towards him that I couldn’t explain. I’d never felt it before. Certainly not with Chace.

  Ah hell, you only live once. I reached up and dragged my nails through his hair, pulling the elastic out and letting the curls fall around his face. Tugging on his hair, I pulled his face down to mine again, but this time I did what I’d wanted to do for weeks. I gently bit his bottom lip into my mouth, letting my teeth graze and tug at it slightly, making Ryder moan.

  He lowered his weight onto me and kissed me in a way that had me gasping for breath as I continued running my fingers through his hair, pulling gently on the ends. My legs were wrapped around his hips, pushing him down to me further. One of his hands supported his weight above me while the other slid under my shirt, tickling along my hips and up to my ribs before brushing along the bottom of my bra.

  He’d never ventured under my clothes before, and I didn’t mind in the slightest. In fact, I was quite ready to sit up and strip the damn shirt off if he didn’t do it himself soon enough. That was just the effect he had on me. More and more.

  Before his hand could creep any higher, I heard it. The sound of the bell above the front door. Crap! I had completely forgotten where we were. Ryder reluctantly pulled away, both of us breathing heavily as I heard Mr. Romanov call out.

  “This is not over,” Ryder growled, sitting up and pulling me with him. I quickly climbed off the couch, straightened my hair and shirt, and was just putting the kettle on to make a cup of tea when Mr. Romanov walked in. I was sure I looked all flustered and bothered, but Mr. Romanov didn’t seem to notice.

  “Bailey, my dear. Here you are.” Mr. Romanov greeted me when he walked in. “Hello, son,” he said, turning towards Ryder.

  “Afternoon, Mr. R,” Ryder replied. I turned to find him looking as relaxed as possible, lying back on the sofa. I shook my head because I was barely in control of my breathing, but Ryder looked unfazed that we were almost caught doing whatever it was we were doing. What was that anyway? Why wasn’t he as affected by the moment at me?

  “Would you like a cup of tea?” I offered Mr. Romanov, trying to clear my thoughts. “We were just having a break. It’s been a slow day.”

  “That would be lovely.” He smiled at me and sat down at the small round table. I placed some biscuits on the table for everyone to share and set about making the tea.

  “This is delicious tea, Bailey. From your mother?” Mr. Romanov smiled as he took a sip.

  “Yes, one of her creations.”

  “Creations?” Ryder sat up and picked up his teacup.

  “She likes to make things.” I cringed at the thought of how long it took her to get something right. She was quite creative and imaginative, but she sometimes lacked the skills required to make a working windmill. Yep, she tried that once. “Anything really, including her own tea. And clothes. And jewellery. And furniture. And, well, she will try everything at least once.”

  “Wow, that’s impressive.” Ryder looked surprised.

  “It’s—” I was cut off by the sound of the bell over the front door and stood up from my seat. “Break’s over.”

  I walked out into the shop and immediately wished that Mr. Romanov had gone out instead. Standing there in the middle of the store was Christina. I didn’t say anything to her. I had nothing to say. I just crossed my arms over my chest and waited.

  “I know what you’re doing.” She sneered, taking a step toward me. I lifted my eyebrow and waited for her to continue. She knew nothing.

  “You are only with Ryder to make Chace jealous. And it won’t work, you know. It’s really kind of pathetic. Chace doesn’t want you. He loves me. So back off or…” She was trying to sound threatening. I couldn’t help but laugh. She was trying to scare me because she was insecure about Chace.

  “I’m happy with Ryder.” I stepped toward her and smiled when she faltered. “I don’t want Chace, and I am not trying to make him jealous. If he’s having second thoughts about dumping me for you, then that’s something you have to work out. Not my problem. Like I told him the other night, go screw yourself, Christina, or him. Whatever. I don’t care.” I turned and walked back out into the kitchen, leaving her standing there in shock.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chace’s party was fast approaching, and the closer it got, the more nervous I became. I shouldn’t have been going. He hated me. Hated. And the feeling was mutual. But both Indie and Ryder were convinced I needed to be there. Closure or something. I was pretty sure I got that closure the night he texted me and told me that I was the worst girlfriend ever. But at the same time, I understood Ryder’s point of view, too. Imagine the look on Chace’s face when I showed up to his party with Ryder and didn’t even give him a second—or first—glance. Yeah, that would be sweet. And besides, I had to be there for the moment Indie finally got to meet Jayden.

  She had been bugging Ryder every day now for almost a whole week about his soccer teammate. She wanted to know all there was to know about him, and she was driving poor Ryder absolutely crazy. I couldn’t help but laugh. Her questions reminded me so much of Ryder’s stupid twenty-questions back in the bookstore over the summer holidays. I was pretty sure Ryder was about ready to explode if Indie asked him one more time what Jayden’s favourite colour was.

  “How the hell should I know?” was all he replied before pressing a swift kiss to the corner of my mouth and taking off to Friday night’s soccer practice.

  Indie insisted we go shopping for clothes to wear to Chace’s party the following week, “before all the skanks get the good stuff,” as she so eloquently put it. I didn’t feel like shopping. I hated shopping, and it wasn’t the way I wanted to spend my eighteenth birthday. But I didn’t tell Indie that, because then she’d know it was my birthday. I’d never been one to make big deals out of birthdays and didn’t want to start now, so I kept my mouth shut.

  “You want to show him what he’s missing, don’t you?” she asked when she pulled into the parking lot.

  “No, not really. I don’t care what he thinks. I’m with Ryder,” I told her. And it was true. I didn’t care what Chace thought anymore. Ever since I came to the realisation I was over him, I’d been watching him and Christina and wondering what I ever saw in him as a boyfriend or her as a friend.

  Christina wasn’t a nice person. She was self-centred and conceited and thought everyone owed her something. She was a bitch and treated people like crap. And Chace, well, as Ryder once put it, he was a douche. I must have been blind or stupid when I fell for him. Honestly, he and Christina were perfect for each other. They were conniving, backstabbing, and threatening toward anyone who stood in their way. Christina was the best, though. I’d copped quite a few threats from her since that run-in at the bookstore. Apparently, she was still hung up on the fact that Chace got mad at me for being with Ryder at the drive-in and acting like a hussy. A hussy? Me? I wasn’t the one who stole my best friend’s boyfriend. I wasn’t the one who was caught in the janitor’s closet with my boyfriend’s hand up my skirt—Ryder may have tipped off the headmaster about that—but, you know, I was a hussy according to Christina that day she backed me into a locker and threatened to end me i
n a typical mean girl cliché “I made you. I can end you” kind of way. I told her I’d learned from the best before shoving her out my way and going to kiss Ryder.

  Kissing Ryder always brightened my day.

  “Okay, fine. But I want to look hot when you introduce me to Jayden.” Indie laughed, linking her arm through mine and leading me towards the shops. She had been talking about meeting Jayden non-stop all freaking week, and I swore if I never heard his name again…I was almost tempted to drag her to watch Ryder play soccer on Wednesday night so that she could see Jayden. I almost missed her pining after Lincoln. Almost.

  After four hours of walking into store after store and indulging in some pampering, we finally headed to the food court to get some dinner. Our arms were laden with shopping bags containing our newly purchased outfits. Our hair was freshly coloured, our nails manicured and out toes painted. We were ready to party.

  While we were sitting there eating our burgers and fries, my phone buzzed with a text from Ryder.

  Ryder: I’m bored. Entertain me ;)

  Entertain him? What does he expect me to do?

  Me: Don’t you have friends you can hang out with? I’m having dinner with Indie.

  Ryder: Ditch her.

  Me: I can’t do that.

  Ryder: I’m your boyfriend. You can ditch her for me.

  Me: You’re my friend. You’re my fake boyfriend in public. I can’t ditch her.

  Ryder: Please.

  Me: No

  Ryder: Please.

  Me: No

  “You texting Ryder?” Indie questioned, startling me. Why did he want to see me so badly?

  “Ah yeah, how did you know?” I could have been texting anyone. Okay, maybe not anyone since Indie was my only friend, but it could have been my mother. Wow! That was pathetic.

  “That funny look you get on your face whenever you speak about him, talk to him, see him, or even just think about him.” I had no idea what she was talking about. What funny look? She was crazy.

  “I do not get a stupid look.”

  “Oh, you do. Trust me. You’ve got it bad.” Got it bad? No, I couldn’t have it bad. It was fake. She must have just been seeing what she wanted to see.

  “No, I don’t. This is all so new still. I’m still getting over Chace and—”

  “Oh, bulldust. It’s been what? Almost three months since you broke up?”

  Had it been that long? I did a quick calculation in my head and realised it had. Ryder and I had officially been fake dating for just over a month. Yikes!

  “You don’t care what Chace thinks. You said so yourself. Besides, you never once looked at Chace the whole time you were together the way you look at Ryder now.” I rolled my eyes at her. I didn’t look at Ryder like anything.

  “And do tell, Indiana. How do I look at Ryder?” This should be good.

  “Like you want to eat him.” She winked and burst out laughing at the look on my face before continuing. “And it’s been what? A month officially? Longer if you count the time you spent hanging out beforehand. Don’t tell me you don’t get a funny look or that you don’t have it bad, because you do. It’s so obvious to everyone. Not just me.” She shoved a ketchup-covered fry in her mouth and grinned at me.

  “Obvious?” I was unsure how anything could be obvious when nothing was going on.

  “Yeah, obvious to everyone but you, clearly.” She reached over a grabbed my hand when I gave her a confused look. “Okay, look, it’s clear to everyone how much you and Ryder like each other. The way you look at each other and behave around each other, it’s like there’s this huge-ass magnet that draws you to each other no matter where you are or what you are doing. It’s intense to watch. You and Ryder, it’s real. Maybe you guys just haven’t figured it out yet. Forget Chace. Forget Christina. How does Ryder make you feel?”

  I had no idea how to answer that. She said it was real, and we hadn’t figured it out yet. Was she right? Did that mean she believed Ryder liked me? No, of course not. He wasn’t interested. It was his idea to do this. He wanted payback more than I did. I was just in a vulnerable enough place to agree to it at the time. I thought about how I felt around Ryder. I felt like me. I felt comfortable. Like I could finally fit it somewhere and the awkwardness of the past two years was gone.

  “Well?” She raised her eyebrow at me expectantly.

  “He makes me feel real. Like I’m not pretending to be something or someone I’m not.” I had to stifle a laugh when I said that because that was exactly what I was doing—pretending to be his girlfriend. “I’m at ease when I’m around him. Comfortable. When we’re together, we can talk for hours. Or we can sit in silence and it’s not awkward. Nothing feels forced. I have a confidence I’ve never had before because of him. I don’t care what people think of me, and I don’t care about Chace or Christina anymore. I’ve moved on and become a happier, more content person because of him. He makes me smile. He makes me laugh. He makes my stomach flutter like I’ve never felt before.” I paused to look at Indie. She had this big grin on her face.

  “And?” she asked.

  “He makes me happy,” I admitted, nodding. Ryder made me happy. I would have been a complete mess if it weren’t for him. Indie sat back and squealed in delight, clapping her hands together like a child.

  “You looooooooove him.”

  Loved him? No, absolutely not. I was attracted to him, yeah. Who wouldn’t find him hot as hell? That thick curly hair that looked good tied up, those gorgeous green eyes, the cute dimples when he smiled and the deep husky voice that had the ability to make girls swoon, me included.

  I didn’t want to consider it before, but it made sense now. I was scared to tell him I was over Chace because I didn’t want to fake break up and lose him from my life. I hated seeing him hurt—even just the thought of him getting hurt gutted me. Our personal contact had increased to the point where we were acting like a couple when no one could even see us. I would play with his hair, hold his hand, and grab his ass. He would keep an arm wrapped around me or trace his fingertips over my hips and stomach. He would press soft kisses to my shoulders, forehead, and the corner of my mouth. Our kisses were getting more frequent and intense, and we tended to get a little bit carried away sometimes. Like a few days ago in the kitchen at the roadhouse when Ryder finally cooked for me. It was easy to lose control around him when he made me feel so good. When he made me need him.

  Holy crap! I liked Ryder. I did. I had feelings for Ryder Jones. Real, crazy feelings that I had never felt before. Was it love? No, I didn’t think so. But it was more than just physical attraction. I needed him in so many ways. What the hell was I supposed to do now?

  “I need him.” I groaned. “It’s not love.” I shook my head slowly and looked at her. She looked like she was about to burst with excitement.

  “Well, what are you doing sitting here with me? Go!” She began waving me away with both hands.

  “What?” I wasn’t leaving her here to see Ryder. No way. What would I say to him? Did I even tell him the truth? No, that would be stupid. He’d just laugh in my face and either fake break up with me or make my life a living hell while we were still pretending to be in a relationship.

  “You’ve just realised how much you like your super-hot boyfriend. You shouldn’t be here with me. You should make him understand how much he wants you too.”

  “You’re crazy. We’re having a girls’ day. I can see Ryder tomorrow. So what are we doing now?”

  “I am making you visit your gorgeous boyfriend.” She smiled and stood up, grabbing all of her bags and mine too.

  “No, honestly. I will hang out with you. Ryder can wait.” I tried to argue with her, but it was useless.

  “Bailey, your phone hasn’t stopped buzzing for the last ten minutes. He wants to see you, so go. Please. I’m all right. I’m kinda tired anyway, so an early night will be good for me.” I agreed reluctantly after I looked at my phone and saw ten new messages from Ryder all saying the same thing.
/>   Ryder: Please.

  He was begging me to visit him, and I had to admit that I wanted to see him too, but I was nervous about it.

  I texted Ryder and asked for his address. Even though we’d been hanging out a lot, I’d never been to his house. After I dropped Indie home, I nervously made my way to Ryder’s house. By the time I got there, my heart was pounding out of my chest, and butterflies were erupting in my stomach. My hands shook as I knocked on the door and waited.

  “Hello.” For some reason, I was surprised when a woman answered the door. She had long, wavy, brown hair and bright green eyes like Ryder. Ryder’s mother. I didn’t know why I expected him to be home alone. It just never occurred to me that he wouldn’t be.

  “Ah, hi.” I smiled nervously at her, feeling uncomfortable showing up on a Friday night to see her son, but she didn’t seem to mind. Giving me a warm smile, she pulled the door open wider for me, gesturing for me to enter. Maybe Ryder brought girls home a lot and his mother was used to meeting them. That thought made my stomach churn.

  “You must be Bailey, Ryder’s girlfriend. I’m Joan.” Girlfriend? Huh? Had he told his mother I was his girlfriend, or did she know it’s all fake?

  “Yes, it’s nice to meet you. Sorry for coming by so late.” I apologised even though it was only 9:30 p.m., which wasn’t that late on a Friday.

  “Oh, nonsense. Don’t apologise. I’m just happy to meet you finally. I was beginning to think Ryder had made you up or something.” She laughed, flashing dimples just like Ryder’s.

  “Oh no. I’m real.” I shifted uncomfortably, unsure how to take that comment. Ryder had told her about me. She believed I was his girlfriend. That was weird.

  “Yes, you are. Anyway, Ryder is upstairs. You can go on up. Third door on the left.” She smiled and walked off, leaving me standing there dumbstruck for a moment. I made my way up the stairs, my heart pounding harder with each step I took closer to Ryder’s room. Finally reaching the door, I wondered whether I should knock or just walk in. Knocking was probably better in case he was busy or something. Raising my fist to knock on the door, I hesitated again.