Page 2 of Broken By the Bad Boy

My arms tighten around my torso, and my chin juts out in defiance. Ben sighs. He’s still seated on the edge of the desk, observing me. He can’t continue calling me babe when he hates labels. “I don’t want to understand. I want to be your girlfriend.”

There, I said it.My desires win over Olivia’s words. “Fine.” He smiles. “Take it. Take the label.”

His smile worsens the sick feeling of shame taking over my body. I scoff. “Really? Is this a joke to you? Am I a joke to you? Do you even care about me? Oh, wait. You don’t. You just wanted a fight partner. You can’t ask me out on a date, but you’re so quick to invite me to train with you.”

My fingers stab his hard chest, and my eyes burn in anger. He’s such a… he’s unbelievable.

Ben stands, but I don’t recoil at his intimidating height. “Gracie.”

“From the very first day, it was about the fight. You don’t care. Last week, we were supposed to rehearse for the play, but we didn’t get one minute to do that because all you wanted to do was train for the All-Rounders. Every time we meet, all you want to talk about is the bloody fight.”

Ben takes another step forward. The back of my legs hit the chair, but I don’t back down. I stare into those angry eyes, my chest rising and falling as I try to catch my breath. He is not allowed to be upset when he’s at fault. My mouth parts to continue my tirade. “Gracie, no. Please stop it.”

I don’t want to hear my name from him. Why does he have to whisper my name like that? Must every word coming from him sound so knee-jerking? I force myself to remember Olivia’s words, and it does the trick. I return to reality and finish my statement. “You don’t care about me, Ben. You know I like you, and you keep using my emotions against me. It’s unfair. It’s wicked. It’s evil.”

“Gracie,” Ben snaps, his tone icy. “Stop talking!”

The space between us is gone. We stand a hair’s breadth away from each other, and Ben’s brows draw so tight they almost form a unibrow. He glares at me. I’m not sure what I want to say or do anymore. I poke his chest. He is evil. He knows what he does to me, yet he hates labels.

“Or what?” I whisper.

“Or I’ll kiss you,” he whispers in return.

My lips part in response, but Ben doesn’t kiss me like I half-hoped he would. Without warning, he sweeps me off my feet and plonks down into the chair. I hide my face in his chest, and his jaw rests on my head. His heart thumps against my palm as I trace the sweat drying on his tank top.

“It’s unfair,” I say after seconds of staring at his chest. He needs to want me like I want him.

“I’m broke.” I look up, but his eyes are elsewhere. My fingers idle away on his jaw until his gaze lowers. “That’s why I haven’t asked you on a date yet, Gracie. I know you want it. I want it too.”

I want us to spend quality time together, but his finances never crossed my mind.

Broadway Heights is a private school with no uniforms but relaxed dress codes, so I assumed everyone there has rich parents or sponsors who splurge them with pocket money and random presents like mine do. But I will pay for our date or split the bills if it makes him feel better.

“I was going to win tomorrow’s match, so I could take you somewhere nice. It’s why I have been training so hard to win.” Ben plants a kiss on my forehead, and my senses take flight. I pucker my lips for another kiss. He laughs but indulges me, and I deepen the kiss before he pulls away. “I thought you enjoyed spending time with me in the gym or the house. Fighting is one more thing we have in common, babe. You are as passionate about it as I am. I really want to win, Gracie.”

With Ben’s explanation now out in the open, I feel like the asshole. I sit up, and he steadies me with an arm around my waist. “You should have said that earlier instead of making me yell at you.”

“I would have if you had given me a chance to talk. Hell hath no fury like you, Gracie.”

I chuckle. “I also want you to win, Benny. I want us to win. You didn’t ask me on a date because you are broke?” He nods. I’m such an idiot. “Olivia. She said so many things, and I believed her. It was easy to believe her because you didn’t want labels. I have never been in a relationship.”

“Me too,” he says.

Our foreheads touch and nerves invade my body. Ben acknowledged us. Wait, I need to be sure.

“Does that mean I’m your girlfriend?”

“Do you want to be my girlfriend?” I nod. Gone is the shy Tessa. I want Benjamin Carter, and I am not ashamed to let him know. “Then you are my girlfriend, Gracie, and I am your boyfriend.”

“My boyfriend?” I murmur as if testing the words.

“Yeah. Since we already acted like couples, I didn’t think there was a need to put a name on it. I hate labels, but you own this one. I like you, Gracie.” Patting my pocket for my phone, I open the recording app. I push the phone closer to his lips, and he grabs my wrist. “What are you doing?”

“Taking evidence. Say it. Say it into the recorder. Tell them I’m your girlfriend.”

A dent wedges between Ben’s brows, but he collects my phone and says, “Gracie is my babe, my Juliet, and my girlfriend. I like her very much and think she has super cool powers.” My grin is instant. Perfect boyfriend. He leans in, and his lips brush mine in an almost kiss. “That enough?”

More than enough. My finger shoots up. “Not yet. Hold on.”

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