The Bad Boy's Forever (The Bad Boy's Girl Book 3)

by Blair Holden

  Poison.

  An ice bullet.

  Carbon monoxide poisoning.

  Possible nut allergy? If yes, find pecans.

  “How big are we talking here?”

  “How do you feel about Dr. Phil?”

  “Okay, that’s it!” I march toward an increasingly pale-looking Caldwell and slam my hands on the desk in front of him. “I’ve been in this room for over two hours, listening to you whine about how you’d really like some tea when we have none. I’ve listened to you refer to some very private and sensitive issues in my life as...what did you call them? Indiscretions! And you’ve referred to my boyfriend not once, not twice, but five times as a hoodlum. You’re belittling all of us, and my brother is this close to punching your smug little face in. Now tell me, how do we fix this? How do I not become Bristol Palin?”

  His face pales even more. “Oh for the love of all things holy, are you pregnant?”

  There are three sets of people holding me back before I pounce on him.

  Chapter Six: You Attract More Women Than Victoria’s Secret on Black Friday

  “Your personal glam squad has arrived, now drink this coffee, perk up, and let me get my hands on you.”

  I’m plucked out of bed and made to sit upright. For once I’m glad that Cole left me alone in bed, freezing my butt off, because he needed to go on a run with his dad, much as I’d like for him to be my human body-warmer. I doubt he would appreciate being ambushed in bed by my best friends carrying enough beauty supplies to scare him into considering entering priesthood.

  “I know you can’t see it under my mop of hair, but I’m scowling pretty hard right now.”

  Beth pats my head, and I can hear her and Megan setting up shop around my bedroom. There’s a rustle of clothing as one of them barges into my closet and spends quite some time picking an outfit for an event I have no intention of going to.

  “It’s not going to work,” I say in a singsong voice, gulping down my coffee like an open drain.

  Megan, I presume, plops down on the bed next to me and tips my chin up. I’m forced to move my brand-new bangs out of my eyes and glare at her. “We’re not fans of Caldwell’s methods ourselves...”

  “Understatement of the century!” Beth yells from somewhere down the rabbit hole that is my walk-in wardrobe.

  “...But this is a good idea. If people see you and your family in a normal setting, acting like the normal, well-adjusted people that you are, they’re less likely to care about all the rubbish that’s been published.”

  “I went to the supermarket yesterday to buy KitKats in bulk, and the cashier asked me if my psychiatrist prescribed it because she truly believed that chocolate was an antidepressant.”

  “Oh.”

  “So thanks but no thanks, I’m done with this town and their opinion. My dad thinks it’s a good idea to just throw us out there and host this huge party, so let him. I’m not attending it, in fact I have plans. The tattoo guy said he could fit me in between six and eight p.m. today.”

  Beth storms out of my wardrobe, a black dress draped over her arm, her expression thunderous.

  “Uh-oh,” Megan whispers to the side of me but makes no move to stop our best friend from giving me a good old verbal smackdown.

  “You’re being a baby, a big, thumb-sucking, nasty-diaper-pooping baby about all of this, and if I have to listen to one more thing about how you’re too delicate to put on your big girl panties and deal with this nonsense, then we’re going to have a huge problem.”

  I shoot up, no doubt looking badass and whatnot in my Christmas onesie featuring Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer with a pop-up nose that squeaks when pressed.

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about! You can’t even begin to imagine what it feels like when everyone’s starting at you, talking behind your back and judging you based on things they don’t know shit about.”

  She scowls. “Oh, that’s rich. I don’t know? Is that what you really think? That I cruised through my life here? That people didn’t comment on my tattoos, my hair, my piercings? Oh, and my mom, they had a lot of fun speculating on what she’d been up to when she left town? But the best part was my dad, because according to the people here, my mother slept with most of Hollywood, and everyone from good old George Clooney to Robert Downey, Jr. could be my father. Not that I wasn’t flattered, but it’s not the best subject for small talk, is it?”

  I’m instantly drowning in guilt and feeling ridiculous about my tantrum over the last couple of days, ever since Dad’s press secretary called the emergency meeting and had us preparing to do some damage control, but all I’ve managed to do is sit home and sulk since I’m too straight-laced to ever do something drastic, even in times of great emotional upheaval.

  There is no tattoo appointment, obviously.

  “I’m sorry,” I tell her, feeling my cheeks heat up in obvious embarrassment. “I know I’ve been acting childish, but honestly, I thought I’d left all this behind when I went to college, but the things I did as a sixteen-year-old idiot keep following me around. I’m so sick of it.”

  She wraps me in a hug. “You know what my motto is, Tess, when life becomes difficult, you become a stubborn bitch. Don’t let anyone make you feel like anything you don’t want to feel like. You hear me?”

  “I’d put that in my essay but removing the profanity won’t nearly have the same effect.” Megan chuckles and we’re back to normal. I let them doll me up for the Christmas party we’re hosting this evening at town hall and keep my fingers crossed that the night goes on without incident.

  ***

  To provide some brief context about why I’d attempted to light fire to photo albums of Fatty Tessie’s past and had displayed rather disturbing behavior since Caldwell’s visit is because of the very reasons I’d discussed with my friends. Ever since the article on my family went to print, I’ve felt like the walls around me have started closing in. Things were bad enough with how I’d been hounded by the press for Cole’s sake, but now, to be in my safe place, my home, and have that sense of security snatched from me, is a bit too much, and it pushed me to the edge.

  I’m acting this way because I’m so sick of being me at this point. But once the melodrama has subsided and I really take into account Beth’s two cents, I realize that she’s right. No one can make me feel bad about myself unless I want to feel that way, and she’s the best example out there for what it’s like to continue being who you are when everyone judges you for exactly that reason.

  Squaring my shoulders, I grab a champagne flute from one of the waiters circulating around the large ballroom and look for familiar faces, well, mostly one person’s face. Cole should’ve been here an hour ago, and even though we agreed that it wasn’t necessary for him to escort me this evening, I’d definitely appreciate it if he offered some moral support.

  Because even as I sip my drink, I attract the kind of attention that’d even fool me into thinking that I needed an AA sponsor.

  “Hi,” someone says to my right, interrupting my glaring at the front door as if it’s keeping my boyfriend out.

  I turn my head to said voice and am pleasantly surprised to see a familiar face from high school. There aren’t a lot of people I’d remember fondly when it comes to that part of my life, but he’d been one of the good ones.

  “Mike? Hey!” I move in for a quick hug, relieved to at least know one person here who doesn’t question my mental stability. Even though it’s a Christmas party hosted by the mayor, my friends and their families have prior commitments. Well, Megan and Alex do; I’ve texted my brother several times to ask where he and Beth are. The Stones should have arrived as well, and it’s really starting to make me feel anxious.

  Mike dated Lauren in high school, the cheerleader who’d been somewhat nice toward me even after I’d been relegated to the bleachers by Nicole. We’d lost touch since graduation, but I remembered her and Mike heading off to college together just like Cole and I did.

  “Wow, it�
�s great to see you. I haven’t really been able to catch up with anyone from our class for the last couple of months.”

  I crane my neck and look around him to the increasing number of people joining us. “Can I be honest? I’m kinda happy to not have to see a lot of them here,” I shrug my shoulder, “But it’s really good to see you here. Did your parents force you?”

  He smirks at me. “Basically. But you guys know how to throw a decent Christmas party; I might even go near the fruitcake.”

  He reminds me a lot of Bentley in the sense that he oozes an awkward sort of charm and makes you feel at ease with him. Of course he’s built like a linebacker and probably plays college ball like Cole, but I’m not at all intimidated by him.

  “Oh, the horror! Not the fruitcake, don’t ever go near the fruitcake. You don’t know what the O’Connell family secret recipe might be.”

  He laughs and maybe it’s my imagination, but he leans a bit closer. “Maybe I’ll just find out when I have a taste.”

  I laugh; it sounds nervous and a little weirded out. I back off a little. “So...how’s Lauren?” I place my glass on the tray of a server passing by and think mournfully about resisting getting another one.

  He blinks a couple of times before his eyes lose their playfulness and he clenches his jaw. “We’re not together anymore. It’s probably for the best; you know what they say about high school romances.” His voice is bitter; clearly, he isn’t over the breakup.

  “Uh, no, I don’t, actually, but I’m truly sorry to hear that things didn’t work out between the two of you. She was one of the nicer people in this town.”

  He grimaces. “People change. She’s not so nice anymore.” But then he shutters his expression once again and crosses the couple of inches of space between us. “But you, you’ve always been so incredibly sweet, haven’t you?”

  I gape at him.

  Is he hitting on me really? Cole and my relationship is public knowledge, everybody’s all up in our business even if I don’t want them to be, and he has the audacity to basically proposition me to be his one-night stand? That’s the only thing a guy who’s still hung up over his ex is interested in.

  “You...I can’t believe you would...”

  “I’ve been keeping up with Stone’s career; he’s a big thing right now. He’s also publicly announced that he’s single; my sister pointed that out to me today. So I take it you’re no longer together.”

  I’m about to tell him where exactly he can take his intruding question when I’m grabbed by the wrist, spun around, and pulled into a strong, well-built chest. I barely have a minute to take in Cole’s infuriated face when he fuses his lips to mine and gives me a kiss that’s in no way appropriate for public display. But I don’t fight him because he needs to do this, because I want him to kiss me like this instead of treating me like I’m made of glass. His hands span my lower back as I twine my arms around his neck, getting utterly lost in the moment, until we hear several throats clearing. I have some sense of self-preservation as I give Cole a gentle push and rest my head on his chest. He’s breathing hard against my forehead, his arms surrounding me possessively.

  “Does that answer your question?” he growls.

  Okay then, Mr. Caveman. Mike gapes at us before attempting to form coherent speech, failing, and then spinning on his feet and leaving. I laugh into Cole’s chest and punch his shoulder lightly. “You’ve got to stop doing that to people.”

  He’s annoyed, I can see with how worked up his muscles are. “I can’t leave you alone for five minutes before some guy starts pawing at you. Is this how it’s always going to be?”

  “Hold up for a second before you start brooding over there, but isn’t that my problem? That you attract more women than Victoria’s Secret on Black Friday?”

  I can’t even be angry at him right now because he looks good enough to eat in his suit. White shirt with the sleeves pushed back, a black suit jacket sans tie, and black slacks. He’s absolutely dreamy right now, caveman-like but still dreamy.

  He laughs and I can see some of the tension melting away, but his line of vision still follows Mike, and he’s muttering some not-so-nice words under his breath as he glares at his back.

  “So! Care to explain why you’re so late?” I try to ignore the number of people eyeballing me.

  He squares his shoulders and clears his throat. “About that...” He’s looking everywhere but at me and I get suspicious. Nothing good ever comes of him being up to something, especially not right now.

  “Did you know,” I begin, “that at least five people have come up to me and asked me if I could speak in public about my struggle with alcoholism and drug abuse?”

  He shoots a vicious glare at the people around us. “Who the hell dared to do that? I thought I told Steve to make sure no one bothered you.”

  “Who’s Steve?”

  “No one you should worry about. He’s very professional about these things.”

  “Cole,” I step away from him and ask as calmly as I possibly can right now. “Did you hire a hitman?”

  He snorts. “It’s not so easy to find one these days. It’s not like I can just log on to Craigslist and look a hitman up, now can I?”

  “And yet it seems like you’ve tried.”

  “I asked a guy who knew a guy, but it’s a dying business these days.”

  “Cole!”

  “Okay, okay, but first, have I mentioned that you look absolutely beautiful today?”

  Rolling my eyes at his childish antics, I say, “Come on, I know you can do better than that.”

  He grins. “You’re right—I absolutely can.” He comes closer than what could be considered publicly appropriate and wraps an arm around my waist. His lips graze my ear and I suck in a breath. “You’re the most gorgeous girl in this room, and it’s taking every ounce of willpower I have to not haul out of here and take you back to my house, where I plan on doing very many things to you.”

  I suck in a breath.

  “Well, then...that was much better.” I stumble around my words and feel a little dazed; it’s ridiculous how he can still manage to do that.

  He smirks. “Oh I could say so much more.”

  “Huh? What?”

  “I thought so.”

  ***

  The party goes as well as it possibly could. Yes, people still looked at me like I was the lost puppy they wanted to take home and fix, but for the most part, I got away unharmed.

  Mostly.

  We’re sitting around a table in the empty hall now, Cole and I sharing a bottle of wine. Even the cleaning crew’s left, but he held me back saying that he has something to tell me, which of course made me panic. Whenever someone says that to me now, it doesn’t turn out to be anything good.

  “I had a meeting with my coach today.”

  Ah football, the other woman in Cole’s life. This does not sound good. “If he told you to get rid of me, I’m going to karate chop him in that beer belly of his so hard, he’ll feel it through his billion layers of fat.”

  He laughs. “Tessie, will you focus? Coach is actually looking out for me, telling me what I need to hear instead of what I want to. I need someone to be on my side.”

  “I’m on your side,” I tell him, feeling a little affronted and a little drunk.

  “I know, and maybe that’s why I wanted to do something that’ll let you know once and for all that we’re in this together.”

  “I don’t doubt you. If I did, I wouldn’t have been able to go through with this fake breakup you tried to stage.”

  “That was a stupid idea.”

  I slap the table in fake enthusiasm. “You don’t say! Oh my gosh, really? A bad idea? Why the ever-loving heck did I never think of it that way?”

  He rolls his eyes, and it might be my imagination, but I think he blushes a little out of embarrassment.

  “Change of plans, we’re going in with a new strategy.”

  “And what would that be?”

  “For starte
rs, Steve’s your new bodyguard; he won’t be around all the time, but your dad and I decided that it was best if someone kept an eye on you.”

  As soon as his words sink in, my first reaction is annoyance, which quickly turns into anger. Gritting my teeth, I turn to him. “No offense, but my dad is far from becoming president, and you’re not Tom Brady yet, so excuse me if I think you’re getting a little ahead of yourselves. A bodyguard? The worst thing he could have to protect me from is an overenthusiastic, pom-pom-waving bimbo, and I’ve dealt with more of them in my life than I have pimples.”

  He exhales, like I’m the one who’s being difficult. “You have to hear me out and promise me that you’ll really think about it before throwing another tantrum.”

  “Continue...”

  “Coach has a magazine shoot for me in the next few weeks. It’s nothing big, but he says that the magazine people were pretty insistent and it’d only help my career out.”

  I presume my face scrunches in confusion. “You’re going to be in tiny underwear and slicked in oil in a female equivalent of Playboy, aren’t you?”

  He bursts out laughing and it breaks up the tension of the moment a little. I can’t help but grin as well, Steve temporarily forgotten, because damn it, I’m really proud of him, and I know he’s making it a smaller deal than it’s supposed to be.

  “That’s amazing, Cole...I just, you’re going to be in a magazine. Add my infamous little center page stint to that and we’re becoming quite the power couple. Crap, I didn’t mean to say that. I’m proud of you, so proud. You’ve worked so hard for everything, and now it’s all finally becoming real.”

  Pulling me out of my seat and settling me across his lap, he kisses the side of my neck, slow, drugging kisses that make me glad that we’re alone. My hands sink into his hair as he continues to kiss my neck.

  “...Something else you should know.”

  “What?” I’m lost; it’s a strange mixture of alcohol and the control he has over me.