Page 58 of Bullied By The Bad Boy

The lecture starts. Mr. Sam introduces a new topic, but I am unable to concentrate. Every nerve in my body screams for me to check the site but the sane part of me squelches that urge. Is he a good kisser? It must feel nice to have full access to those lips. Does he kiss as well as he fights? I breathe slowly. I shouldn’t be thinking about that. He kissed the enemy, and that’s unforgivable.

“A little birdie told me you cried in the hallway,” Ben says when Mr. Sam turns his back to us. “Why?”

“None of your business.” On second thought, I add, “You and your little birdie can go fuck yourself.”

If he cared, he wouldn’t have kissed that bitch. Why is he bothering me? Why is he acting like he gives a shit about me and my feelings? I am not cut out for this attitude switch. He should stick to being an ass; I liked him better that way. Maybe I didn’t, but whatever. He needs to fuck off.

“Help me out here, Miss. I’m trying to be nice.Stop treating me like shit. Remember that line?”

He still won’t call me by my name. “Just leave me alone.”

“Your call.”

But he tears a sheet out of his notepad, scribbles something on it, then passes it to me.

Don’t cry again. Asher won’t like it.

There is a sad face emoticon at the end of the paper. I stare at it, then back at Ben, who hasn’t looked away from the board. What is this? He writes me a note, and he can’t look at me? It’s not Asher I have a crush on, for God’s sake! I rip the note into shreds and scatter it all over his desk.

There, that will do it. None of us speak to each other for the rest of the class, and I take solace in the fact Abigail is also ignoring Ben. Stupid of her to think she stood a chance with anyone Olivia shows interest in. I don’t know what it is about that girl that makes every guy want to please her. She might have a sexy, fuck-worthy body, but her soul is as black as the nail polish she’s sporting. Black must also be Ben’s favorite color since he likes the bitch. Two bitches.

The bell for break rings. I am slow to get my things or even stand. Getting up feels like a chore imposed on me. Quite frankly, I don’t feel up for anything. I don’t want to be here. Not in this class or school that reminds me so much about the kiss. I ignore the wall of handsomeness beside me as I pick up my bag. I hope he loses his match tomorrow. I hope he doesn’t find a partner for the All-Rounder. The winners take home fifty-thousand grand. I might not need money, but that’s a lot. A whole fucking lot, but I haven’t found a partner. For the singles, you get a quarter of the price. They claim the dual fights have more sponsors, but it’s a shitty excuse to get more participants.

“Wait up,” Ben calls out when I’m at the door.

Doesn’t he get it? My brain has a mind of its own because I don’t want to be in the same room with him, but my feet stop. I turn slowly to him as he approaches me with a frown. Even his frown is cute, and I need to get my head out of the gutter. He’s with Olivia. He can never be with me.

I force a scowl to my lips, and Ben raises his hands in surrender. I might have laughed at his poor attempt at a joke, but the red lipstick on the corner of his lips catches my eye. How did he miss that spot? The idiot flashes me a wide grin, and I almost slap him when my heart skips a beat. He needs to stop doing that because it’s affecting my silly brain. I am turning to goo on the inside.

“What’s up?” he murmurs, his grin intact.

“The ceiling,” I reply with a finger jerking upward.

Ben’s blue eyes gleam with unnamed emotions. He chuckles, a sexy sound that melts the anger I’m desperately trying to hang onto. I hate the angel who controls human feelings. They failed me.

“So…” Ben pushes one leg forward, then clears his throat without saying a word. Is the bad boy nervous? Shouldn’t he be rushing out to have lunch with his diva of a girlfriend? “I…Tee.” Oh, no, not again. “I know you fight. I do too.” He drags a hand through his face, pulling his lower lip to reveal his perfect dentition. He should be the face of toothpaste brands. I start shaking my head, and he holds up a finger to shush me. “Don’t bother denying it. You were there that night.”

“What do you want?” I ask.

“To apologize.”

Ben shoves his hands into his pockets and bounces on his toes like he does inside the ring. His eyes hold mine. He is not laughing. This is not a dream. “Apologize?” I ask to be clear, and he nods. Can today get weirder? I asked for an apology last week, and he threw it in my face. “For what?”

Stretching a hand in my direction, he says, “Look, I love my brother.”

I am not sure why he’s telling me that. “Good for you,Benny.”

A deeper sigh escapes Ben, and my belly knots. He stares at his hands and says, “Asher wants to see you again, and no matter what I say to him, he won’t listen. He thinks we are best friends.Haha.”Oh. He’s doing this for his brother. Last week’s chat was a warm-up for this request. But did he have to laugh after that last part? I know we can never be friends, let alone best buddies, but really? Douchebag. “I don’t know what you did to that poor guy, but yeah, will you come?”

His eyes are everywhere but on me. I might have found his nervousness cute, but I am confused. First, he didn’t complete his apology. Second, he believes his kid brother is smitten by me.

“Come? To where?”

“To his games.”

As sweet as his request is, this won’t work. I take a deep breath. “No.”

“No?” Those expressive eyes narrow at me. I shake my head. “You are saying no?”

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