Page 61 of Bullied By The Bad Boy

“Tessa, loosen up. Great job, Ben. Keep going.”

Yeah, keep going, Benny. Touch me again.

My eyes zero in on his sexy mouth that stops moving. Why aren’t they moving? I love watching his lips. He takes another step, so our bodies are almost touching, and my teeth dig into my lips.

“Not the poor lips again,” he whispers. I chuckle.Okay, I shouldn’t laugh. I hate the guy. But his strong arm slides around my waist as the scene requires, and he tugs me forward. “Relax, Miss.” I want to, but he’s touching me. His hand is on my lower back, and he’s not looking back at me with disgust. I can kiss him if I try. Nudging me with his hip, Ben says, “Your turn. Juliet, your lines.”

“Ah, yes.” I jump into action. My voice quivers, but he flashes me an encouraging smile, and my nerves dissolve. I look into his eyes. “Don’t waste your love on someone who doesn’t value it.”

Ben’s blue eyes narrow to slits, and the rest of the words die in my throat. He releases me without notice. I stumble back and instantly miss the warmth of his body. My lines feel like a warning, but it’s the truth. Olivia isn’t a good girlfriend. He’s not exactly a good person, but he deserves better than her.

“Ben…” I whisper. His eyes lower to mine, and his thumb reaches up to caress my cheek. We are both out of character, but Ms. Jota doesn’t call us out for it. “She’s not good for you, Benny.”

“And you are?”

Thirty-Six

BEN

I touched her again,and I kind of liked it, which in itself is a problem. She’s trying to create a rift between Olivia and me.

My eyes close. My heart does a funny thing as the memory from our last rehearsal plays through my mind in slow motion. A smile pulls at the corner of my lips, but it’s gone the instant she talks about Olivia that way. Olivia is not bad. She only needs more patience. Besides, she contrived with Asher to surprise me with a birthday cake. You can’t beat that. I open my eyes and glare at the letter beads scattered on the coffee table. There are five letters arranged to form one word.

MOWER.

I made her cry that day. I don’t know why it still bothers me. She spoke to me during rehearsals, didn’t she? She must have forgiven me, or she wouldn’t have tried to ‘save’ me from Olivia. I had been avoiding her. I didn’t know what to do when she said no. Asher still thinks we are best buddies. I push one of the letter beads we got from the craft store through the black thread, then another until I’m done. The stairs creak as Asher pads downstairs. I throw a book over the mess on the table.

“Benny? Is that you?” he calls out in his sleepy state. Walking to the living room, he plops down on the floor and rests his head on my shoulder. On instinct, my arm loops around his waist. “I can’t sleep, Benny. You were not in bed. Why? What are you doing? Isn’t it too early to be up?”

“It is, Champ.” Asher raises his head, and our identical eyes meet. “I was trying to study.”

He picks up the unfinished bracelet under my textbook and reads the word. “M. O. W. E. R. Mo-wer. What’s this?”

“An apology,” I reply.

“Another one? For who?” I shrug. Instead of getting mad, he grabs the thick thread. “I want an apology too.”

Laughter catches in my throat. I ruffle his hair. “Alright.” On my feet, I pull him up and throw him over my shoulder. “Now, let’s get you to bed. You need to be in fine shape for the game.”

“Is she coming?” he asks.

“Tessa?” I whisper. A pang of guilt and hurt goes straight through my chest. I don’t even like her, yet I’m hung up on how I treated her in class. I stop at the foot of the stairs to put him down. He weighs so much now. Asher tugs on the hem of my top. “Yeah, Tessa. She’s kind of…sick.”

“Too sick to come?” I don’t know how to turn him down. My shoulder jerks a little in a semi-shrug. “Did you tell her she could come late? She doesn’t have to be there for the whole game.”

Without an answer for him, the place falls quiet. No is no, like she yelled. Hands interlocked, we jog upstairs. Asher heads straight for the bed, and I pull the comforter over him. I make a beeline for the door, but his hand wraps around my wrist. I smile at our connected hands. “Benny?”

“Yes, Champ?”

“She really can’t come to watch my game?” My heart clenches. I fake a smile. “Okay.”

“Did you tell Mom?” I say to fill the silence.

He shakes his head, and I sweep the hair off his forehead. “No, you would have been mad.” A sad, painful sound spills from my lips. “Do you think Tessa is mad at me? The cake was nice.”

“It was,” I reply. We never talked about the details of the cake. Asher was more interested in eating the half I brought home. The phone on the bedside drawer beeps. I peek at the screen. 4:15 am. It’s a text from Olivia. She has been bugging me to leave drama club. I only joined to annoy Tessa, but I love the experience now. “You told Olivia you wanted to make me a cake?”

“Yes. Tessa is a good baker.”

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