Page 21 of Loved By The Bad Boy

“Hit him,” I say so calmly. He stops. “No, go on. Hit him, and I swear to God I’ll crack your skull open.”

That puts an end to the fight. Ben scurries off Calum but stares down at him for so long that I expect him to kick Calum in the ribs. I jump between them before that happens, or a new fight breaks out. Calum’s face is a bit bloody. A gash across his cheek leaks blood to his jaw and shirt.

“Are you okay?” I ask.

“He punches really hard,” Calum whispers.

I laugh and help him sit up. “Yeah, he used to fight.”

Sam finally decides to act. He hoists his friend up, keeping most of Calum’s weight on him. I follow them as they exit the basement. We are out the door when I ask, “Calum, are you okay?”

Blood soaks his eyebrows. The white shirt he’s wearing has red stains all over it. Did Ben hit him with anything other than his fist? The fight might be over, but it wasn’t because of my threat.

“Yeah. It looks worse than it actually is,” Calum answers.

We ascend a staircase, but Sam stops me from going any further. They are a stair above me, so I have to crane my neck to glare at him. This wouldn’t have happened if he had stopped the fight from the start. If anyone should be kicked out of this place, it’s him. I don’t care if it’s his house.

“Go check on your lapdog,” Sam says. Oh, he can talk now? This moron. “I’ve got this.”

“You have the IQ of an unripe pineapple,” I spit out.

“What? Pineapples don’t—”

Sam is still talking when I walk away. Calum will be fine. Getting to the basement, I turn on the lights Sam switched off earlier. Mira looks calm, but Imani stands guard at her side. Perched on a stool, shoulders slumped, and hands fisted on his knees, Ben looks so sad. His words about being so alone in a crowd reverberate in my head, and I take tentative steps toward him.

His head raises when I stop in front of him. “I thought you left with him,” he says.

“Do you want me to leave?”

“Gracie,” he whispers.

Ben reaches for my hand, and I hide both behind my back. It’s not just about him choosing Olivia over me. In a moment of hurt, he equated me to the one person he loathed most in the world.

“Don’t. My name is Tessa,” I answer. “Call me Tessa.”

“But you are my Gracie. My babe. Can we talk?”

I shake my head. “I don’t want to talk to you.”

A bruised brow jerks up. Annoyance flashes across his face, and I automatically step back.

“If you don’t want to talk to me, why are you here?” he grits. “What do you want?”

Tears well up in my eyes. I gulp. What do I want? I want to help. Someone nudges me. Imani. She smiles and drops the first aid kit at my feet. I blink, and the tears finally fall to my cheeks.

“Babe,” Ben croaks out.

I’m not his babe. I pick out the necessary items in the kit, a shaky smile on my lips as I raise the cotton ball to his cheek. “We’ll just get this cleaned up, and I’ll be out of the way. That’s all.”

Ben straightens up. His voice is ice cold when he answers, “Okay.”

Ten

On Monday,Mira and Imani are in a mood. I don’t ask questions. Their relationship status is still vague, which could be the reason they are pissed at each other. But when Ben joins us for lunch, deliberately sliding his tray close to mine because Calum isn’t here yet, he ignores the tension.

The group chat hasn’t been as lively since Friday night. Imani forced both of them to apologize to Mira. Her girlfriend can’t stand the sight of blood. According to Imani, I need to get both boys in the room and talk to them if I want an apology. Who needs an apology if that’s the criteria for one? Besides, Calum apologized too many times to count, and Ben doesn’t owe me anything.

It’s still shocking. I spent most of Saturday and Sunday wondering when I moved from the quiet girl no one wanted to be friends with to the girl two of the hottest boys I know would fight for.

---