Page 56 of You're so Bad

In a fit of crazy, driven by my dick, I take her hand in mine and open the door with her, my fingers layered over hers. She gives me a weird look, but we step out together.

I swear under my breath as we enter the kitchen.

So much for nowhere to go.

There’s an empty bowl with a lining of pink cereal milk in the sink, and a note on the table, written on a ripped-out page from the book I was reading. Thanks, Reese.

I can’t believe you convinced her to go into the bathroom with you. Legendary. Be careful, man, she’s stronger than she looks.

Thanks for the cereal. It’s better with milk, but I’m gonna take the box with me.

Fix the back door, man. I don’t want someone else to break into Mrs. Ruiz’s house, and I’ve heard there are bad people hanging around. There’ve been two different robberies in the past two days. (Don’t worry. I had nothing to do with either of them, but word gets around.)

I’ll text if I need to get in, but I’ve been thinking of taking off for a while to lose the heat.

There’s a little doodle at the bottom of Shauna with an oversized knee.

For half a second, I’m amused—he doesn’t want “someone else” to break in, huh?—then I run to the back door and look out, hoping he didn’t get far.

There’s nothing but me and the moon.

It’s those damn shoes. They let me run like the wind too.

I rub the place where Gidget’s inked into my arm, because I have a feeling I fucked this up too. Hopefully it comes off better for the kid.

When I come back inside, Shauna’s holding the note, her bottom lip between her teeth.

“I scared him off, didn’t I?” she asks softly, sounding sad about it.

Maybe. But it’s not her fault; it’s mine.

I knew in my gut that he was jumpy, and I gave him an excuse to run when I left with her instead of sitting down with him.

I text Reese, asking him to come back so we can talk, but I’m not surprised when he doesn’t answer.

“You don’t have to come tomorrow,” Shauna blurts.

“What?”

“To the stupid camping sleepover thing. In fact, this whole—” she waves her hands around, “—thing was a bad idea. I’ll just tell them we decided not to go. Bianca can ask someone she actually likes to be her maid of honor.”

“But then she’ll win,” I say slowly, not liking the idea one bit. “You can’t let her win.”

“It’s not a competition.”

But it is. It obviously is, and if Shauna backs down, Queen Bee will lord it over her every damn time she sees her at a trade show or around town. I can’t let that happen.

That’s not the only reason, though. I don’t want this to be over—and it’s not for the pompoms or even the excuse to own a whole roomful of people at karaoke. I want to spend more time with Shauna.

That’s not surprising. I know what she tastes like, what she feels like when she’s coming. And I’m not going to be satisfied, or anything like it, until I’m buried inside her. But it’s not just that either. I want to get to know her better, to learn more about herfromher, not from Constance being loose of the lips when she’s had too much to drink.

That’s bad news. I can’t get hung up on this woman—even if I’m pretty confident she won’t get hung up on me. So I should tell her she’s right, that we’ll back off and let Champ and Bianca destroy themselves, something that’ll obviously happen whether we have a hand in it or not. But I don’t.

“Itisa competition,” I say instead, taking her hand and squeezing it. Something in her face lifts, like maybe she likes what I said. “And we’re going to crush it.”

Then I let her go, because she’s not mine, and if I’ve learned anything it’s that you shouldn’t take what’s not yours if you don’t know how to keep it.

ChapterSixteen

---