Page 35 of Bad Boy
“Remington, you’re still in high school, and you are still under my care. So yes, you will listen to me.” I bristle at her words, confused as to why she’s suddenly trying to parent me. It’s too little, too late. She can’t start when I’m fucking eighteen.
“Look, Mom. I’m not trying to argue right now. I just woke up, and I already have a headache. I won’t get drunk in front of Gramps anymore. Okay?” I shovel the last bite of biscuits and gravy into my mouth and slip off the barstool.
“What time is it?” I ask, and there's a brief pause before I burst out laughing as I glance around at the half-dozen clocks in the kitchen alone. My favorite is the classic black cat, with its swiveling eyes and swinging tail.
Always the smartass.
“For real, though, I need to go get Lincoln. He hates being late. Oh, and he’s coming over after school to study, by the way.”
“Lincoln is a wonderful boy. I’m glad you two are friends. He’ll be able to help you catch up in no time,” Richard says, placing another pancake on his plate, adding strawberries and whipped cream instead of syrup. Just like Mom and me.
I set my plate in the overflowing sink and turn around, leaning against the counter. I cross my arms, testing the integrity of this fancy-ass school button-up, and face both my mother and grandfather.
“He’s a great advisor. We’ve been teaching each other things. Experimenting,” I say with a big grin. Mom looks a little suspicious, narrowing her eyes at me. She knows I like boys, and she also knows when I’m up to no good.
“Science stuff. Lots of science stuff. Like the field trip you signed for, Ma. I’m going with Linc,” I add, hoping to cool the fire I may have just started.
“This is the neighbor boy who crashed his scooter?” Mom asks. She was home when the tow truck dropped Linc’s moped off, and I wheeled it into the garage. I just haven’t had a chance to mention it to Richard yet.
“Moped,” I correct automatically. “And it just tipped over and got a little scratched, is all.” I’m no snitch. If he doesn’t want people to know, he doesn’t want people to know.
“Oh, that’s terrible, but I’m glad it was nothing worse,” Richard says. “I can have Clifford fix the exterior up in no time.”
Speak of the devil.
Lurch slowly walks into the kitchen, like a seven-foot-tall mummy, eyeing the mess of pots, pans, and dishes that Gramps made while cooking this delicious meal. His lips purse and I don’t like it.
“Did you set my alarm?” I narrow my eyes at him, but his dark stare doesn't waver.
He’s dead inside. I’m convinced.
I heard him whispering to Richard earlier, so I know he speaks. He just doesn’t lower himself to speak tome.
“I did, young sir. You would be late for your studies otherwise.” The most posh-sounding British accent flows freely from his lips, and I’m completely taken aback. From all the grunts he’s been giving me, I was not expectingthat.
I school my features and don’t let my surprise show. He needs to know I have boundaries, and he needs to learn them quickly.
“Well, don’t. For future reference. I don’t care if I’m blackout drunk and sleeping it off on the bathroom floor in a pool of vomit. Don’t come into my room when I’m sleeping or ever again—”
“Remington!” Mom cuts me off, even though I know she doesn’t want this fucker snooping through her shit, either. “That’s enough.”
I give Lurch another glare and mouth the word “boundaries” before pushing off the counter and storming from the room. I grab my backpack and blazer and head for the garage, contemplating which car to test drive today.
* * *
Five minutes later, I’m coasting down the rural mountain road that I now live off. I won’t lie; it’s scenic-as-fuck. Maybe because this is all still new to me, but it’s almost distracting. Not to mention I’m on my way to pick up the boy that’s been on my mind since the moment I met him.
I glance at the clock on the dash, excited that I’m right on time and that my hangover is finally starting to fade. One more day of school, and I’ll get Linc all to myself for the entire weekend. In a mountain cabin. My dick plumps up just thinking about it and all the fucking possibilities it comes with.
I pull into the roundabout and put the cherry red Jeep in park. It’s definitely a contender, but my eye hasn’t strayed too far from the neon green Camaro. Tapping the horn twice quickly, I wait for my carpool buddy to come out.
Three days of picking him up, and it still hasn’t gotten old.
The giant oak door swings inward, and Lincoln steps out into the morning sunlight. His auburn hair shines, revealing lighter shades woven into the perfectly-styled tresses. His eyes are so startling that I can notice the color difference from here. His green eye practically glows right along with his hair, and his dark eye holds so much depth. I’ll never get tired of staring into them. I continue my perusal, appreciating his lean swimmer’s build, knowing exactly what’s underneath, and wanting more. He’s slim, and his smaller muscles are so toned. It’s sexy as hell.
I roll down the passenger window and lean forward, tipping my aviators to look over them. “Morning, Lincoln. Looking good as usual.”
“Good mornin’,” he replies, opening the door and climbing in. “And thanks, you look nice, too.” He glances at me and smiles warmly, cheeks slightly pink.
