“Well, go and serve it somewhere else.”
“Barlow?” he asked, looking at me.
I blinked and looked between them in panic. “What?”
“Shall I, as Hadley suggests, go and serve it somewhere else?”
I looked between them again, hoping I wouldn’t actually have to be involved.
Hadley always did this; she was rude and scathing to him, yet professed an ingrained desire to get in his pants. How she was going to achieve that when she just acted like a dick, I don’t know. Maybe that’s why I was sweet, innocent Piper Barlow and she was…well, the Hadley Reynolds; there was obviously some (read, many) nuance to flirting and dating that I was missing.
“I…don’t mind. You do whatever you want, Lombardi.” I turned to Hadley. “I need to get to the bus before it leaves or I have the pleasure of a half hour wait. I’ll see you tonight.”
She hugged me quickly. “If he offers to drive, say yes!” she whispered in my ear.
When I pulled away from her, I frowned. “Sure.”
She grinned and I shook my head as I wandered off.
“Oi, Barlow! Wait up!” Roman called.
“Because she wants the likes of you chasing her!” Hadley called.
“Everyone wants the likes of me chasing them, Miss Reynolds,” he called back, his tone dripping innuendo I could almost feel landing on my skin.
I jumped onto the bus and found a seat I hoped would keep Roman away from me. But, no dice. He sat in front of me, tucking his skateboard behind his head and leaning against the window.
I surreptitiously looked at him, but he noticed and his eyebrow rose slightly in humoured question. I rolled my eyes and slid down into my seat.
“I assume Hadley’s looking for a ride tonight?”
Not the kind you’re offering. “I’m driving.”
He leant over the back of his seat toward me. “Are you now?”
“Yes.”
“And, do you plan on driving all holidays? Or, just tonight? Perhaps hoping some nice boy will offer tonight and you’ll be set up for the next two weeks?”
I looked up at him through my eyelashes. “Everyone else lives on the other side of town. I’m quite capable of driving.”
“I don’t live on the other side of town. Anymore.”
“I’m sure you’ll have your own schedule to stick to. And, I wouldn’t dream of getting in your way.”
“My way?”
I looked up at him again, finding those dark eyes watching me carefully between strands of equally dark hair. I had the sudden urge to get off the bus and run away; away from the way he seemed to see right through me. I hated running, but I’d do almost anything to get rid of my fidgetiness. I looked down again and made do with rearranging in my seat.
Everyone knew Roman Lombardi hooked up with at least one girl at every party or he left to go find one. I was not getting myself into the situation where I was going to need to rely on him for a ride; no doubt I’d want to leave way too early and he’d be off using my ride as a motel room. Not that I could say any of that that out loud.
“I’ll be fine. Thanks.”
“Ah, you have someone else in mind.”
I looked up sharply.
“Carter will be devastated,” he sighed, his eyes shining with humour even as the rest of his face was hard.
I rolled my eyes again and sat back in my seat. I wasn’t planning on going to any of the other parties anyway. Make one appearance and I was sure I could get away with skiving on the rest if I felt like it.
“I’m driving myself.”
“Tonight, yes.”
Ugh, why was he such a douche?
“Then you’ll meet a lovely fella who’ll offer to drive you to the rest and Carter will be all but forgotten. See, you take me up on my offer and you’re just preserving yourself for Carter. You could say I’m doing him a favour.”
“I could say a lot of things,” I muttered.
He scoffed. “Yeah, but you won’t. Because you’re darling little Piper Barlow, never with a bad word to say to anyone.”
I glared at him and found his eyes shining brighter and a hint of a smile at his lips.
Problem was, he wasn’t entirely wrong.
As in, he was completely right.
I shook my head, pulled on my headphones and did my best to ignore him for the rest of the trip.
Chapter Four
What is it about Bad Boys?
The music thumped and the bonfire soared into the starlit sky over the field. I watched my breath puff out of my mouth as I snuggled into my jacket further and nibbled on the edge of my cup.
I’d spaced out a little as Hadley was raving about Roman again and I was swaying to the beat of the slightly techno mix I didn’t know the name of in the hopes of warming up a little. The first real Winter Holidays party tended to be colder than you expected; every year without fail, we never learnt.
Hadley whacked me and I looked up. “What?” I asked.
“Don’t you think?”
I sighed. “Don’t I think what, Hads?”
“That he’s as smooth as they come.”
I glared at her over the rim of my cup. “No.”
“Oh, come on!” she whined. “This afternoon? You weren’t the least bit tempted?”
“No.” Because I hadn’t been.
“What planet do you come from?” Hadley asked me as though she were disgusted or about to dissect me.
“The one where I don’t want to be strung along and treated like God knows how many girls before me. The one where I don’t find it attractive for a guy to be sporting bruises or– Case in point…”
I pointed over at Roman where he’d just pushed a guy and they were getting in each other’s faces. I expected a fight, but Rio pulled Roman off the other guy who deflated a little as he watched how eager Roman was to keep at it. Rumour suggested only an idiot got into a fight with Roman Lombardi because he was the one who emerged victorious every time. Every. Time.
“Sorry, Hads. But, that just seems like too much trouble to me. And, I mean… Don’t you want more from a guy than a nice face and maybe a decent hook up? I bet there is nothing going on in his head.”
“He’s like every bad boy out of every book or movie you’ve ever watched,” she said earnestly. “Who cares what’s going on in his head!”
“You need to stop reading those books and watching those movies, babes. I’ve told you before. It’s unhealthy.”
“You’re the one who got me caught up on Patrick Thingy and Chase…what’s his name?”
“Verona and Hammond,” I replied without thinking because I’d seen 10 Things I Hate About You and Drive Me Crazy probably twenty too many times and still couldn’t get enough of them.
Mum and I had watched all those 80s and 90s Rom-Coms as I grew up and I’d never stopped loving them. I’d even looked for ones Mum might have missed and given Hadley and Celeste a heavy appreciation for most of them – or, at least the hot guys in them. And the older I got, the more I loved John Cusack in particular. His characters were sweet and adorable and just the perfect romance hero.
“Why do you remember these things?” Hadley asked me.
I threw her as cocky a grin as I ever got. “Because I’m loyal to the men I love.”
She shook her head at me before looking back to Roman. “Well, I’m quite loyal to getting in those perfectly-fitting jeans,” she said as she titled her head to supposedly get a better view of his arse.
And yes, it was not lost on me that he was still objectively attractive in jeans that tucked into black boots and a dark jacket that might have even been leather. Sometimes he did the canvas shoes, jeans and either t-shirt over long-sleeved top or t-shirt under the open button-up shirt combination. Sometimes he did the sneakers, chinos and baggy jumper combination. And sometimes, like just then, he looked like he’d walked out of one of Hadley’s dirty romance books and was abo
ut to whisk you away on his motorcycle.
My not unflattering assessment of him only annoyed me further.
“Well if you stopped being such a dick to him, maybe he’d let you in those…jeans.”
“What is up with you? Even this weird – is it even passive-aggressive? – display is rather aggressive for you.”
I shook my shoulders and glared at Roman’s back. “Nothing.”
“Piper,” she said in her ‘I brook no argument’ tone.
I huffed. “He’s just so…infuriating!”
Hadley snorted. “That is the least flattering thing I’ve ever heard you say about anything.”
I threw her a look. “He’s just…”
“Gorgeous, mysterious, dark, brooding, fulfils your wildest fantasies?”
“I was going to say a vain, cocky, womanising arsehole. But, sure.”
Except for those times when he seemed to try – and succeeded, let’s be honest – to make me laugh. Except for those times he looked at me like he was capable of sincerity. Except for those times when I wasn’t entirely sure if he was seriously interested or just looking to play me like every other girl. He’d become a walking contradiction all because he’d moved into the house next door and it annoyed the hell out of me.
I wriggled again, feeling that antsy, itchy feeling creeping along my skin.
“Three weeks of him following you home like a lost puppy and you’re already sick of him?” she laughed.
“He doesn’t follow me home like a lost puppy.”
“I’d let him follow me home like a lost puppy.”
“Well, why don’t you go and tell him that? I’m sure his motorised motel room is stocked and ready for you.”
“His what? You know what, I don’t want to know,” she giggled. “I get he’s not your type, babes. But that arse, though?”
“What’s so appealing about the bad boy?”
“Need I remind you how much you gushed about Patrick Thingy?”
“Verona,” I muttered as Roman’s eyes caught mine and I clenched my teeth around my cup. “And, fine. But, bad boys in real life? Hads, it’s clichéd and I’ll bet it’s not as fun as we’re made to believe.”
“Well, the girl with a John Cusack would say that.”
“I don’t actually have a John Cusack, Hads…”
“Yeah no, but you do. Because Mason’s perfect for you. He’s kind, he’s sweet, he’ll go at your pace. A proper gentleman.” She nodded curtly as though pleased with herself and I told myself Roman and I weren’t staring each other down.
“A proper gentleman who might ask me out before I die of old age,” I grumbled.
“Babes, you’ll be safe with him,” she said like a mum who knows best.
I knew she didn’t mean to be patronising. Years of knowing her told me she didn’t mean to be patronising. But, that spineless part of me that Roman seemed so fond of poking wanted to ask why I needed to be safe with anyone. I mean, safe sounded good. But not the way Hadley said it, like I was incapable of keeping myself safe. I didn’t need to be babied. I knew it was done out of love, but really!
I huffed and stretched my neck as Roman finally looked away from me to look at Rio.
“Rio’s cute in his own way…” Hadley mused.
“Oh, yeah. He’s got that Loki thing going for him,” Celeste giggled as she bumped into us.
“And what sort of time do you call this?” Hadley mock-chastised.
Celeste giggled some more. “Marty and I…” she petered off and Hadley cheered. “And, he was very eager.”
“Was he now?” Hadley asked, waiting for more information.”
“Marty’s got a serious case of roving hands,” Celeste said with a wink.
“Is it just me, or does it feel like guys are less obsessed with getting hand jobs or blow jobs than we’ve been led to believe?” Hadley asked.
“What do you mean?” Celeste snorted.
“Well, you hook up with a guy and his first instinct seems to be to get his hands in your pants, rather than yours in his. Don’t you find that?”
Before they launched into their theories as to why that might be, I knew it was my cue to sidle over to the esky and see if I could find another soft drink.
The girl who’d stumbled on the way to third base had no place in that conversation. She had nothing to offer and really didn’t feel like hanging around as she knew her best friends were either pitying her or sheltering her.
So as they giggled over whatever it was that Celeste had just been getting up to with Marty and why guys seemed less concerned with your hands down their pants, I took a few inconspicuous steps backwards, then spun and headed for the eskies. I avoided the eyes of anyone, hoping they’d think I was on a toilet mission or something and leave me alone.
Next to Hadley and Celeste – hell, even Tucker at a stretch – I could keep the anxiety at bay enough to look normal. But away from them, I really didn’t want to find myself in an unexpected conversation.
Luckily, I didn’t find myself in any unexpected conversations. Unluckily, I did find myself over-hearing some unexpected conversation.
“Yeah, nah. I’ve had Jess,” I heard Roman’s voice and I looked around surreptitiously.
“Any good?” Rio asked.
Roman shrugged. “Depends what you want.”
“Well, what did she offer?”
“Everything. Until I went for it and she freaked out.”
Rio snorted. “Fucking prude.”
Roman shrugged again and his lip twitched like he was not saying something. “Her hand job’s decent.”
“Compared to Britt’s?”
“Fuck, you know Britt’s is the best.”
“Shame she won’t touch you with a fucking pole anymore.”
Roman huffed in what was almost a laugh. “Nah, that’s all good, mate. Plenty of girls willing. I’m not averse to a little bit of teaching if they’re up for it.”
“You willing to risk leading them on?”
“They know what they’re signing up for.”
“Dude, you’re not the one they cry to when you’re done with them.” I couldn’t tell if Rio was annoyed by that or not.
“Aw, you don’t want my sloppy seconds, mate?” Roman asked him almost teasingly.
Rio chuckled. “Mate, they don’t want me after they’ve tasted you. That’s why I have to get to them first.”
Suddenly, Rio looked at me like he knew I’d been eavesdropping and threw me a wink. My cheeks went bright red and I quickly looked in every direction but them in the most obvious way possible. But for some reason, my eyes found their way back to the boys and I saw Roman watching me with that unnecessary interest.
My stomach squirmed in a way I was worried wasn’t entirely unpleasant and I felt myself frown in annoyance.
Roman was not going to get to me. He could make me laugh, he could look at me like…I didn’t even know what that was. But, I wasn’t falling for it. He was a player and, whether he’d decided I was his Everest or not, I was not giving him any reason to think he could conquer me.
Finally remembering why I’d even wandered over to the eskies, I hunted around for another drink. I would have liked a beer, but since I was driving I was going to stick to soft drink. Responsibility and the law aside, I was a lightweight.
“Barlow,” the low voice slid over me unexpectedly and I jumped.
“Lombardi,” I answered sullenly, giving him as good a once over as he was giving me.
I couldn’t remember where the whole calling each other by our last names had come from. But, I couldn’t really remember ever saying anything different to his face. Was that weird?
“You’re lucky Carter’s not here. You’re not inspiring anything in that getup.”
I blinked at him, not quite understanding but getting enough of an idea. I heard a noise and looked over to see stupid Shayla snorting before she walked away.
M
y face flushed some more and I cleared my throat. “We’re not all on a mission to get laid.”
His eyes scanned behind me and the corner of his lips quirked. “Shame that.”
I was getting more confused by the second.
“You look kinda funky, there Barlow.”
“Being insulted tends to do that to a girl.”
All humour left his face as he looked me over. “Looks aren’t all that…inspires…”
I huffed and was annoyed enough with him that I was completely honest. “I’m sure that sentence makes more sense when you know what that means.”
Disgusted with myself that I’d let him get under my skin, I turned away. But, he caught my arm gently.
“Inspired, Barlow. As in inspiring a hard on. You with me?”
I looked at him and I had the annoying feeling his eyes were softening as he looked at me. Actually interested? Playing me?
“I understand you. I’m certainly not with you.”
I watched as the fire highlighted the humour returning to his eyes. “Like I said, looks aren’t all that inspire.”
He searched my face for a second and walked away, leaving me with goose bumps trailing over my skin and my breath a little short. Had he just meant what it sounded like? Surely not. Roman didn’t do… Well, anything that was more than a passing hook up.
To be insinuating I was…inspiring and it wasn’t only my looks? He had to be playing me. There was no other reason. Hadley was right and I was some sort of Everest he’d decided to conquer and he was just smooth enough to know exactly how to get under my skin. That had to be it. But, why the hell was Roman Lombardi trying to play me now?
I’d heard that the more you were around someone the more inclined you were to like them. But, it’s not like we were forced together. The guy could drive to school and we could go back to the same level of interaction we’d had for a decade.
So, maybe he wasn’t playing me? The guy hadn’t been wrong; all evidence indicated there was a line a mile long of girls who were willing to hook up with him. Surely that was all he needed to satisfy whatever reason he did it.
So, what was with that comment?
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