Page 14 of Last Boy

Suddenly, his door flies open, and he stalks toward me. I continue staring at my phone. However, because I have no social media, there isn’t much to look at. So, I check my emails, which are also nonexistent.

“Get the hell in my truck. I’m taking you home,” he growls next to me. With each second I stay seated, he grows more agitated. “I’m not fucking playing. I’m tired. I’m sore. And I want to go home.”

“Poor baby,” I say childishly before I continue to ignore him.

Because honestly, I don’t know who the hell he thinks he is. Showing up here, pretending like he actually cares about any of us. I’m not buying it.

“You’ve got till the count of three to march your bitchy ass across the parking lot and climb into my truck.” His voice is low and annoyed. “Or I’ll throw you over my shoulder and take you there myself.” He pauses. “And judging by how skinny you are these days, that shouldn’t be a problem.”

“I’ll just scream for help.” I shrug. “And then you’ll look like a creep.”

“I’ll just cover your mouth.”

The words come out so gritty. And because I’m clearly deranged, they send a shiver right down my spine…and right between my legs.

Pull it together, girl.

Finally, I shove my phone in my pocket and glance up at him. For once, I really let myself look at him. His hair is a bit longer than I remember him ever having it. He looks like a true puck boy now. He seems to have shot up a foot in height since the day he left me crying on the sidewalk. And he’s doubled in size. And from the way his Wolves shirt hugs his arms and chest…he’s all muscle now.

His eyes…they are the same. But he doesn’t smile. Not one bit. He just glares down at me, waiting for me to oblige him. Apparently, he’s forgotten who I am.

I guess he needs some reminding.

“Why would I get a ride home with you, Walker James?” I shrug, a bored look on my face. “You’re the last person I want to or should be riding with.”

“And you’re the last person I want in my truck. Spreading your lies all over it,” he bites back. “But if you think for one fucking second that I’m leaving you at this bus stop this late at night, you have another thing coming.”

When he leans down, I punch his stomach. “Touch me, and I’ll fucking punch you in the dick next time. Try me,” I hiss.

His hand flies to the spot where I hit him, and he grinds his teeth together. “What the fuck, Poppy?” He’s mad. “Jesus fucking Christ, you’re in-fucking-sane.”

He stands there for a moment, breathing in and out and rubbing the spot where I hit him. But suddenly, when I glance up, his gaze relaxes. And slowly, he leans down, but this time, not so close.

“Let me take you home, Poppy,” he says softly. “I know you hate me. I get it. But I just want to make sure you get home safe.” His head tilts slightly. “Let me do that, please.”

“No,” I say, shaking my head, though I can’t stop my hard exterior from melting the slightest bit. “I don’t want to go anywhere with you.”

“I can’t just leave you here, Pop,” he drawls so smoothly, and my heart races.

It’s like I’m seeing the old Walker. My Walker.

My heart and my head are so confused. I know I should push him backward and not fall for his charm. But, God, he makes it so hard. And when his hand reaches for me and he brushes a strand of loose hair from my cheek, tucking it behind my ear, I’m completely frozen. I should get up and run away. Yet, instead, my breath hitches, and I wait to see what he’ll do next.

He crouches down so that he’s eye level with me, and his gaze flicks to my lips. If he kissed me right now…I’m not sure if I could resist it. I know it wouldn’t be the right thing to do, but I’ve wanted him for so long.

Waited for him for so long.

His head dips closer, and on instinct, my eyes flutter a few times before closing. My heart pumps so hard that I hear it in my ears as I wait for his kiss.

My first kiss ever.

And just when I think he’s going to kiss me, his hands slide to my waist, and he quickly throws me over his shoulder before standing up.

As he walks us toward his truck, it takes me a few seconds to realize what is happening. But when I do…I’m pissed off.

“You…you—” I start to growl through gritted teeth.

“Got you all fucking hot and bothered just so that I could get you in my truck without getting punched in the dick?” I can hear the smirk in his voice. “Yeah, Poppyseed, I sure did.”

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