Page 31 of Bad Boys Don’t Date Clumsy Girls

Chapter Twelve

“You don’t have to wait with me.” I shift from foot to foot, wishing Dylan would start up his motorcycle and drive away already. “I’m perfectly capable of standing and not hurting myself.”

With a wounded expression, he replies, “That’s not the safety I’m worried about. This isn’t exactly the best neighborhood.”

“Well, it’s my neighborhood. I think it’s just fine.”

Dylan closes his eyes for a moment or two longer than a standard blink. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to insult your neighborhood.”

“Seriously, if I were going home, I’d be walking. I’m probably safer standing in front of the shelter than I would be walking.” I make a shooing motion. “Go!”

Dylan rocks his motorcycle until it’s up on its kickstand and makes himself comfortable by leaning against the backrest.

“That’s convenient.” I point to the bar he leans against.

“The sissy bar? It’s convenient for my passengers too. Sure you don’t want a ride?”

I grimace. “No way. And is it really called a sissy bar?”

Dylan nods.

“And you teased me for using the word potty?”

Dylan smirks, and this nod seems to say, “Point to Ava.”

Things had been pretty awkward between us since the water fight, so I’m surprised he’s so insistent about staying. Imagining Bek and Sam’s reaction when they get here, I groan. “Can you please leave?”

“You are literally begging.” He frowns. “Is it that difficult for you to be around me?”

I squint at him, again wondering if he’s setting me up for some joke I can’t see coming. “No, my friends will tease me if they find us together.”

Dylan’s brows arch and suddenly he looks pleased, which can’t be good. “Will they? And why is that?”

“Because they are my friends and friends tease each other.” I know I suck at lying, but maybe Dylan hasn’t figured that out yet.

He purses his lips—distracting—and stands up, straddling his bike. “Fair enough. Are you sure you’re safe?”

“Yes.” Is he really going to leave?

He rocks his bike forward until it falls off the kickstand and thumbs the ignition. The bike purrs to life. “See you tomorrow.”

Mouth agape, I watch as Dylan drives out of the parking lot and down the street. Did he just do me a favor? On purpose? What was that all about?

The crunch of tires announces Sam’s car before the blaring music does. I look up the street one last time, but Dylan has disappeared. I tug the back passenger door open and climb inside. “Hey girls.”

Bek turns around and smiles as Sam pulls out of the parking lot. Bek says something, but I can’t hear over the radio and Sam singing at the top of her voice. I know there is nothing to do but wait for the song to be over. Bek and I join in on the chorus. I grin happily as I stare out the window and sing along.

When the music ends, Sam lowers the volume. “Hey Ava!”

“Are you in love again?”

“You know it!” Sam exclaims. “Barista Boy is sooooooo sweet.”

I glance at Bek, expecting her to mention how sweet Dylan is, but instead, I see her confused look. “What’s wrong, Bek?”

“I thought you went out with Josh last night, Sam?”

Sam lets her head fall back against the headrest and growls. “Josh is Barista Boy, Bek!”

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