Page 48 of Broken By the Bad Boy

The hallway is quiet, and I almost reconsider my plan. I stop in front of Ben’s class. He is at the back, drumming the tip of his pencil over his note with a scowl. He looks bored out of his mind.

After a note of motivation to myself, I push the door open. For the second time today, all heads turn in my direction, and I almost misstep. I focus on the lady in front of the class. I can’t recall her name, but she taught me last year. She stops writing to appraise me, and my knees weaken.

Ben’s teacher crosses her arms on her chest. From my peripheral view, I see him do the same. He frowns, picks up his phone, and mine vibrates seconds later. I try not to look at him. Because if I do, I’ll ruin the plan.

She clears her throat. I wipe my sweaty palms on my hips. “How can I help you?”

“Benjamin Carter.” She quirks a brow, and my mind blanks. I didn’t think this through. Her brow lowers, but her frown remains. I need to say something. “The principal asked me to call him.”

I feel Ben’s piercing gaze, and my body lights up in response. My phone vibrates again, and I jump a little. A few students return to copying notes, and some continue to watch our silent exchange.

“Principal?” she says with a frown, like she doesn’t believe me. I don’t believe me either. For someone in the drama club, I am a terrible liar. With a crooked finger, she motions for Ben to stand. I gulp. “You can go.”

Ben slips his notes into his backpack. I back away as he barrels towards me with a knowing smirk. My eyes widen in warning. He recovers fast and stops a foot from me. I hide a smile at his forced aloofness while his teacher’s gaze darts between both of us. We offer her a fake smile and turn to the door.

No sooner are we out the door when he grabs my wrist. He pins me to the wall, and my breath ceases.

“You were lying,” he says.

I ignore the sparks traveling up my arm and shake my head. Ben creates some distance between us, and air rushes into my lungs. My smile grows bigger as we walk further away from his class.

“No, I wasn’t. The principal wants to see you.”

“Liar,” he replies.

Ben laughs and tightens his hold on my wrist. I tuck a piece of hair behind my ear, steal a glance at him, and he snorts. My cheeks go warm. He laughs harder, and I punch his arm. We stop at the corner before the stairs leading to the principal’s office, and he places both hands on his waist.

“Where are we going?” he asks.

“Have you cooled off?” Ben’s laugh is loud and pleasant, and the sound warms my insides. I respond with a bigger grin. “Not funny,” I say, but there’s a smile in my voice. He straightens up, humming a tone under his breath. “I don’t like it when you’re mad at me. I couldn’t concentrate.”

His breath fans my face, and his lips brush mine. “I’ve cooled off.” He places a hand on the spot beside my head and licks a path up to my ear. My head falls back, and a moan lodges in my throat. I place a hand on his chest. “I couldn’t concentrate either. Don’t hurt my feelings again.”

“I won’t. I promise,” I tell Ben, brows knit together in determination. “Sorry, Benny.”

Linking our fingers, he tugs me in another direction. It’s my turn to ask, “Where are we going?”

The answer presents itself. Bouncing on my toes, I frown at the door leading to the parking lot. This can’t be good. Ben tries the knob, and the door opens. He takes his first step out. I stay put.

He throws a glance over his shoulder when he notices. “Gracie…” he calls in a patronizing tone.

“Where are we going?” I cough to clear the nerves, and his shoulders rotate in a half-shrug. Our last impromptu visit was to his old house. I loved the experience, but hey! We can’t go breaking into people’s houses during the day without being caught. “I want to know where we are going.”

Ben stands on the last stair, making me tower over him. I take a tentative step forward and stop on the stair above his. My hand settles on his shoulder. “Nowhere, really. Just want to get out of here.”

A moment of quiet passes between us. Did he have another episode? We are yet to talk about those. If he has his way, we will never. His gaze doesn’t falter. This is Benny. And I trust Benny.

“Okay,” I whisper.

Damning the consequences, I push my feet forward. The cool air hits my face, and I shiver. Ben shrugs out of his jacket to help me into it. My protest dies down on my lips when he pecks me. At this rate, I will own a closet full of his clothes. He kisses me again, too comfortable in his sweatshirt.

“You forgot to take this,” he says. His hands disappear into his back pocket. I frown. I’m already depriving him of his only source of warmth. What else could I have missed? He slips a note into my open palm, and I duck my head as shyness consumes me. I didn’t bring him a puzzle today. In my haste to leave home, I forgot about our morning ritual. “Babe, you good? You look red.”

“Fuck off.” Ben grins. “Thank you, Benny. You will get yours tomorrow. Promise.”

I pat my pocket for my key, my search comes up positive, and we head to my car.

Warning bells trip off in my head once we are in the backseat. I sit between his legs, back flush against his chest, with his arms around my waist. Warmth spreads through me. I can’t believe I’m missing a class for this. I twist my neck to get a better view of him, and he grins down at me.

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