Page 26 of The Bad Boy Rule

There are worse ways to spend my time than rubbing elbows with rich fucks and more than likely getting a free meal out of it. Hard to come by for a guy like me. Not that she needs to know that.

“Never had a problem convincing anyone I’m an asshole, Golden Girl.”

“That’s not what I mean, and you know it.”

I smirk, lifting a shoulder. “If anything, you should be worried about you. You look like you’ve sucked a fart anytime you’re within three feet of me. Kinda hard to convince people that we’re together when you look like that.”

Her eyes narrow before she rolls them. “Sorry, it’s exhausting being in your presence.”

“Yeah, I hear that a lot. Specifically, after you spend the night bouncing on my co?—”

Abruptly, she reaches out, slapping a hand over my mouth, surprising us both by cutting me off. Her fingers are soft and warm, slightly clammy pressed against my lips.

My lips part, and I nip at her finger, causing her to yelp, cutting her eyes at me.

As quickly as she placed them there, she snatches her hand back toward her, falling to her side like she’s been burned.

“I’ve heard more about your… dick than I have ever cared to learn, so please, can you stop?” Her throat bobs, swallowing hard. When I grin, arching a brow, she just rolls her eyes. A shitty comeback is on the tip of my tongue, but she beats me to it. “As much as I need your crude, broody assholeness in my favor when it comes to them, I also need you to not be over-the-top to the point that my parents think I’m dropping out of college and having a shotgun wedding.”

I shiver at the thought.

Me? Married?

Absolutely the fuck not.

I mean… I’m all for the deflowering part, so I guess I could get on board.

“I can practically read your mind right now. Stop it.”

“You said it, not me,” I grunt. “Get your mind out of the gutter, Golden Girl. Now, what else? I’ve got shit to do.”

“Ah, that’s right, can’t keep your fan club waiting.”

I nod as I pass my stick back and forth between my hands. “Hard work, but someone’s gotta do it. I take my responsibilities very seriously.” My lips curl into a crooked smile, flashing teeth.

I couldn’t bite the smile back if I tried, seeing her cheeks flush a delicious red and her head shake. I love riling her, pissing her off, getting a response out of her. It makes my fucking blood rush. It’s effortless.

Turning, I start skating away, and her voice comes from behind me. “We should probably exchange numbers so I have a way to contact you outside of the rink.”

Slowly, I turn. “Give me yours and I’ll text you later.”

“How are you going to remember it if you don’t have your phone?” she asks warily.

I tap my temple and watch her roll her eyes as she prattles the number off.

I’m sure she probably thinks that I’m nothing but a dumb athlete, but she’d be surprised as fuck to know I have a 3.7 GPA. It’s part of the reason I’m even able to attend Orleans University because I’m on a scholarship. If I weren’t, then hockey wouldn’t be enough.

“See you soon, Golden Girl.”

“Unfortunate for me, Satan.”

After stoppingat Tommy’s once leaving the rink to pick up a part for my bike, I pull into the driveway of my house after dark. I’m exhausted from practice, class, and skating all in one day, but I’ve still got an assload of homework to work on and turn in before midnight.

The lights are on inside, dim and warm, shining through the windows of the old, run-down trailer I’ve grown up in. When I was younger, I was embarrassed to live here. In a metal tin can that probably should’ve been condemned years ago.

It wasn’t always inthisshitty of a condition. It was never a mansion in Beverly Hills, but it at least used to look livable. Lately, it’s looking more and more dilapidated with each passing day. I keep the lawn cut and the trash taken out, but I don’t have the time or resources to keep it up.

It needs a new porch, a new roof, a fresh coat of paint, and a pressure wash. Maybe on my next day off, whenever the hell that will be, I can at least do the pressure wash so it doesn’t look so much like a fucking trap house.

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