Page 8 of Suck This

CHAPTER 3

Is ‘fuck you’ something you’re allowed to say to your boss? Because I might chance it later.

-Acadia’s secret thoughts

ACADIA

My heart was still pounding two days later as I made my way down the steps of my apartment complex.

Keisha, who wasn’t attending the ceremony for the ribbon cutting with me, walked at my side, her cell phone in her hand.

“You know he’s going to be there, right?” Keisha asked as she looked at me sideways.

“Who?” I feigned ignorance, my thoughts automatically going to the one ‘him’ that had been on my mind for days.

“Buford.”

I snorted. “Bradford.” I laughed. “And he’s always there. He’s a freakin’ lawyer, for Christ’s sake.”

“Well, I can tell you now that you and him in the same room isn’t a good idea,” she murmured, most likely more to herself than to me.

See, Bradford and I had history.

The type of history where we would break up, get back together, break up, and get back together.

This time, however, I was determined to stay ‘broken up.’

He, on the other hand, thought we would continue on the same as we always did.

Little did he know, however, that my mind wasn’t even on him anymore. It was on a sexy vampire that had haunted my dreams for the past two nights.

“Well, I can tell you now that I haven’t thought about him since two nights ago,” I informed her haughtily. “In fact, I would say that this is the best night’s sleep I’ve had in well over a year.”

“Because you can’t stop thinking of tall, dark, and dead?”

I slapped her arm.

“I don’t think they’re considered ‘dead’ really,” I murmured.

She tossed me a ‘you’re nuts’ look and stopped once she reached the door that would lead outside.

“You need anything else before I go?”

I pursed my lips.

“That stun gun you keep in your car wouldn’t be a bad thing…”

She slapped me on my arm this time.

“I lost the charger for it. I need a new one,” she said by way of denial. “Unless you have some magic charger on your person somewhere.”

I pushed the bar on the door and walked through it, not bothering to hold it for my laughing-at-her-own-stupid-joke best friend.

With one final finger wave, I got into my car and started her up.

I drove a 1967 Pontiac GTO, and it was definitely in need of some tender love and care.

However, I didn’t have the time, nor the desire, to fix the bad boy up.

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