Page 7 of Bad Boy
“No?”
He just shakes his head swiftly. “Are you?”
“I used to be,” I reply automatically. “I deleted it when—” I cut myself off before I reveal too much. Lincoln doesn’t look like the type of guy to get into any trouble, and I don’t want to deter this friendship before it even has a chance to begin.
I’ve known I was bi for a few years now, but I’ve never been with a guy or even crushed on one. Girls have always been more. . .availableto me, but I’m much pickier when it comes to the male species. But now. . . This boy. . . this boy has me all twisted up inside, and I’m ready to fucking unravel for him.
“I just deleted it when we moved away,” I go with instead of spilling one of my worst secrets on day one.
“You didn’t want to keep in touch with anyone?” he questions. When I don’t answer right away, he immediately backpedals and apologizes. Twice. “Sorry. You don’t have to answer. That was rude and nosy. I apologize.”
“Linc. Chill, dude. It’s fine.” This kid is way too fucking uptight. It makes me want to rumple his hair, take him out drinking, maybe even to a fight—if they exist here. He needs to let loose and live a little. Trade the sweater and loafers for a leather jacket and some ass-kicking boots. I’ll even settle for a denim jacket.
“The answer is no; I didn’t want to keep in touch. I left a pretty shitty neighborhood, and the point of leaving was to get away from a bad place full of bad people and never look back.”
I’m vague enough that he doesn’t get any details of my past, but also clear enough to understand that I’m cool with what he asked, and I really am looking for a new friend. It’s just a bonus that he’s fucking hot as hell, and I’m pretty sure at least bi judging by how many times he’s already blushed. God, Ireallyfucking hope he is.
“Oh, okay. I can understand that. Well, we could at least trade phone numbers then since neither of us is on Insta, right?”
Ho-ly shit.Did shy boy just ask me for my phone number?
“I-if you want,” he adds when I don’t answer right away.
“Hell yeah, dude.” I slip my phone out of my back pocket and add a contact called “Preppy,” then hand it over for him to type his number in.
“Seriously?” he mumbles.
“Yeah, Linc. We’ve already been over this. You’re preppy, and I dig it, okay?”
“Okay,” he agrees, ducking his head and blushing while he types in his digits. He hands it back, and I send him a quick text so he has mine. And then I just stare at him while I wait for his response. It’s gonna be good.
His phone chimes, and he checks it. His mismatched eyes quickly flick up to mine, back down to his screen, and then up again. He holds his phone out, showing me what I already know is there because I just texted it to him.
“This is you?” he asks with pink cheeks and red ears. It’s really fucking adorable. There are so many other ways I could make him blush, and I suddenly want to experience those things with him. But for now, I nod my head slowly and bite my lip, eyes darting to the two purple eggplants I sent as a friendly hello.
He chuckles softly, not even acknowledging what I’m insinuating. . . not even in the slightest. “Well, scoot on over, and I’ll see if I can get you into my classes.”
“Yeah?” I ask, a little surprised. I guess it wasn’t too hard to win him over when we just sort ofclicked, even if we are polar opposites. And now I can’t stop the giant grin from spreading across my face as I slide over in the desk chair, half my ass hanging off the seat. There’s only one chair in here; the other seating is an ugly, upholstered armchair and a well-worn couch.
“Yeah. I mean, why not? We’re friends now, right?” he asks skeptically, almost like he thinks this could all be a cruel joke. And it makes me wonder what’s happened to him.
“Definitely,” I agree. He slips into the vacant half of the chair, pressing our sides together and brushing his soft hand against mine as he takes control of the computer mouse.
I could tell he has a sensual touch from his earlier handshake. It’s part of the reason why I couldn’t let go. His feather-soft caress felt too good against callused hands that have seen way too many fights.
He’s too good for me, of that I’m certain. It doesn’t take a genius to figure it out. Regardless, I’m still going for him, even if I have to be hisfriendfirst.
Lincoln gazes intently at the computer screen while I shamelessly stare at his profile, practically an inch away from his handsome face. From this close, I map every little freckle dotting his sharp cheekbones and the bridge of his nose. His thin, wire-framed glasses are oversized and way more trendy than I could ever manage, but Linc pulls it off effortlessly. I don’t think he even tries to be fashionable. He must be going for classy comfort with a dash of my-parents-made-me-wear-this.
“Um, could you not do that? I’m tryin’ to concentrate on your—” He turns his head to finish the sentence, and his words die in his throat when he realizes my face is an inch away from his, our lips hovering a breath apart. I can smell mint toothpaste on his breath, and I’m fucking dying for a taste. I’ve never kissed a boy before, but the thought gets me so excited, so fuckinghorny.
His eyes zero in on my mouth, and I purposefully lick my lips, teasing him.
“Do what?” I whisper, my words ghosting over his lips, caressing them,provokingthem.
An intense chemistry crackles in the air between us. Sizzling attraction mixed with a healthy dose of intrigue. And I’m pretty sure it’s mutual.
He whips his head forward fast, breaking the potent spell we were under. “Stare at me. I’m tryin’ to arrange your class schedule. I need to concentrate.” He pushes the bottom of his glasses up and clicks around on the computer, but I don’t take my eyes off him. Even though he asked me to.
