No Good: A Standalone Enemies to Lovers Romance

by Stevie J. Cole

  41

  Drew

  One day.

  That was all it had taken for my Dad to yank me out of Dayton and place me in the school I now wanted no part of.

  I stared across the breakfast bar at my dad, the hatred inside me bubbling like lava. He looked so damn smug that I was sitting here, in the navy blazer and skirt that made up Barrington’s uniform.

  It was like he thought going to Barrington was going to fix me, cleanse me of my taint. I could see it all over his face--He thought order had been restored. But it would never be restored because I didn’t fit into his uptight box, and I never would. No matter how many stuffy uniforms he forced me into. All I could think about was the fact that graduation would be in a few weeks, then it was summer, and I could...What, leave? Go to France? That was what I’d usually do. My mother was better than my father, but it was another shiny bubble of expectation. And the little pinch in my chest reminded me that I’d be half a world away from the only person who offered me a glimmer of happiness.

  He slid car keys across the marble counter, a Porsche emblem on the fob. “You may have your car back.”

  That car? He was giving me that car. Like I needed to draw extra attention to myself. The Dayton trash in a baby pink Porsche…

  It seemed misery was my fate whether I liked it or not.

  When I pulled up to Barrington and parked between the Mercedes and BMWs, my stomach knotted.

  Bellamy had made no secret about us, making out with me in the halls of Dayton. Rumors traveled like wildfire through small towns, and I had no doubt people in this school would see me as trash, no matter how much money I was from.

  I was braced, ready for a barrage of shit. But no one gave me a second glance. No one spoke to me, at all. Not even Olivia when she passed me in the hall.

  It was like I didn’t exist. I’d almost forgotten that this was how the rich kids got their retribution, by ostracizing. Marking someone as a leper.

  And after going to a school full of car bombs and razor blades, being ignored was nothing short of a welcomed peace.

  This would be easy. Keep my head down, get my exams done, and then, in a month, I would be free of this bullshit and my dad’s control.

  The dismissal bell rang, and I gathered my books, sprinting through the crowded halls to the exit, then hurrying across the parking lot to my car.

  My dad’s rules were crystal clear. School and home. Bellamy’s house was twenty minutes away, but I had to risk it because, for all he knew, I’d just ghosted him.

  I sped through Barrington until pristine verges dotted with colorful flower beds turned to overgrown, hard shoulders.

  I wound through the rat’s nest of Dayton until I pulled up outside the single-story house with Bellamy’s dented car parked outside. My chest went tight as I made my way to the front porch, then knocked and waited.

  Bellamy opened the door. He was like night to Barrington’s bright, sunny day in his tight, black shirt and grease-stained jeans. And I was all about the darkness.

  His gaze swept over the Barrington uniform, and he promptly adjusted his dick. “Barrington, huh?”

  “It sucks.” It had only been two days since I’d seen him, but it felt so much longer.

  The second his arms came around me, it felt like all my problems disappeared.

  “My dad took my phone. I wasn’t ignoring you.”

  “I know.”

  I pulled back, but he didn’t release me. “You know?” Realization washed over me. “Did he message you?”

  “Right after I texted you about how good you taste.”

  Oh, my god. Groaning, I buried my face in his chest, absolutely mortified on every level.

  “I wonder if he watched that video I sent you…”

  An almost pleased laugh bubble from his throat. The thought of my dad, sitting at his desk, reading our dirty exchanges, watching the video of Bellamy masturbating...everything inside of me felt weak and disgusted. I wanted to throw up.

  Bellamy leaned against the wooden doorframe, tracing a finger beneath the waistband of my tartan skirt. “Wanna go make a video?”

  “I can’t stay.” I wanted to. God, I wanted to.

  On a huff, he half-rolled his eyes and pushed back from the entrance. “Give me a second.”

  He disappeared down the hall, and I stood on his small porch, listening to the noise of cars backfiring and dogs barking.

  The floor inside creaked as he rounded the couch, then stepped back through the open door. He handed me an outdated phone along with a charger. “I sent Nora over with it, but he wouldn’t let her see you.”

  “The fact that Nora agreed to help you…” That just proved I was at crisis point. And the fact my dad had turned her away was ridiculous. I swear the man wanted me to be every bit as bitter and lonely as him.

  “You just gotta make sure to forward any texts to me,” he said.

  I lifted a brow. “Is this a drug dealer phone, Bellamy?”

  “It’s a business phone, baby girl.” He swept a piece of hair behind my shoulder. “Your dad should like that.”

  Laughing, I grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him closer. “I’m sure he will.”

  When I pressed my lips to his it was like pure electricity, adrenaline crawling through my veins in a slow burn. Bellamy’s fingers dug into my hips like he would hold me hostage if he could.

  At this point, I wanted to let him. He was my escape from my shitty reality.

  “How often can you sneak over here?” he asked, his lips still touching mine as a warm breeze circled around us.

  “Maybe a couple of times, but he’s not stupid. He’s very vigilant in my imprisonment.”

  Bellamy’s jaw set at that. “You do realize you’re eighteen…”

  “And completely reliant on him. My phone? He pays for it, so he can take it. My car? He pays all the running costs. I live in his house. Even if I got a job, he’d take the money off me because I ‘owe him’ for my Black Mountain tuition. And my only other option? My mother who lives in France. He has me by the balls.”

  And I hated it, hated that this privileged lifestyle had equated to a golden cage. I couldn’t even date who I wanted.

  On a heavy breath, he swept a hand through my hair, studying me. “I’ll text you later.”

  “I give it a week, and he’ll go on some business trip.”

  He kissed me hard, like he was trying to imprint himself on me. I didn’t know when I’d see him again, and that had a little knife digging in my chest. Bellamy made me feel alive, and staying away from him would make my bleak life a whole lot darker.

  42

  Bellamy

  The concept of not pulling your weight was foreign in Dayton.

  Growing up, we had little choice not to pitch in by either working or stealing. So the fact that Drew, at the age of eighteen, had nothing that was really hers, blew my fucking mind.

  I bought my clothes. I paid for my car. My gas. My phone. And I paid my fair share of bills…

  I laid in bed, more aware now than ever of just how different life for all those Barrington pricks was. They were handed everything, and it seemed that was lorded over their heads, used to control and manipulate. Setting them up to be the manipulative little shits they’d undoubtedly turn into, because they had been raised to believe that money was power over everyone around you.

  It had been a week since she’d shown up at my house, and thoughts of her occupied most of my waking hours.

  Me: Is he ever going to leave?

  Two days ago, her dad was supposed to leave for business. And hadn’t. I didn’t realize how much I needed her until she was gone.

  Work Phone: He needs to. I can’t take much more

  I missed her, but I couldn’t tell her that, so instead, I went with:

  Me: My balls are about to rupture

  Work Phone: You know your right hand didn’t fall off, right?

  Me: No shit. It’s the only reason I’m not dead yet

/>   Work Phone: Do you think of me?

  Of course I do. Who else would I think of? I was hard up for the girl. She had to know that.

  Me: I go to the picture on your InstaPic page of you on some yacht in a barely-there bikini, and blow my load to that.

  Me: Since you never returned my favor and sent me dirty pictures

  Me: Selfish-ass

  Work Phone: Well, I’d send you something to get through this difficult time, but your ‘business’ phone doesn’t have a camera…

  Work Phone: You could always sneak through my bedroom window and take one yourself

  Like hell I’d waste time taking a picture. I’d be buried balls deep inside of here within two minutes flat.

  Me: I’d take more than a picture…

  Work Phone: I know you would

  Fifteen minutes later, I parked at the country club and cut across the golf course that backed up to Drew’s street. Then I climbed the wrought iron fence surrounding her back yard.

  From there, I could see the silhouette of her dad’s flashy car in the drive. I had no doubt the asshole actually filed for a stay-away order, and I had no doubt he’d call the police if he caught me on his property. So I just couldn’t let him catch me.

  Because this--This was bullshit.

  I dropped to the ground and went straight to the side of the house, grabbed hold of the latticework and scaled it, climbing over the balcony like some asshole out of Shakespeare.

  Jesus, what had my life become?

  Through the French doors that led into her room, I could see Drew sprawled horizontally across her bed. Her head hung off the side and her gaze fixed on the ceiling.

  I tapped on the glass, and she jumped. The moment her gaze swung to the window, she scrambled off the bed and opened the balcony door just enough to squeeze out.

  “Oh my god. I was joking about sneaking in my window!” She whispered. “He’ll get you arrested.”

  Grabbing her face, I slammed my lips to hers. The taste of her bled through my veins, relaxing my coiled muscles like a much-needed hit. When I pulled away, her fingers fisted in my shirt, and I pressed my forehead to hers. “I don’t give a shit what he does.”

  She glanced back into her room, then over the railing. “Come on.” Then she led me through her bedroom, straight into her bathroom where she locked the door and promptly cut on the shower.

  “You’d risk getting arrested for a fuck?”

  Not a fuck, but for her? Yes. “I’m not getting arrested,” I said.

  Steam slowly billowed over the glass shower door as I slipped one strap of her tank top off her shoulder. Followed by the other.

  Then I pressed my lips to her throat.

  “Bellamy…”

  “Drew…” My hands cupped her bare tits as I covered her mouth with mine. “Don’t want to waste water, do you?”

  I shoved her shorts off, then her thong.

  “We cannot fuck with my dad here,” she whispered, not doing a damn thing to resist me.

  My fingers found their way inside her, immediately coaxing a moan.

  It was absolutely messed up that I was doing this to her. In her house. With him downstairs. But screw him for being a dick.

  I pushed my fingers in deeper. Then I stopped. “This sure as fuck feels like we can...”

  “You’re an asshole,” she said, gripping my wrist and forcing my hand to move again.

  “That I am.”

  She yanked at my belt and within seconds, she had me undressed, and I had her naked body pinned against the tile wall of her shower, head tossed back on a moan while I buried myself deep inside her.

  I wanted her more than I’d wanted anything in my life.

  I kissed along the column of her neck, licking at the water cascading down her body, and all I could think about was how I could hold onto this--hold onto her a little bit longer. “Don’t make me go days without this again.” I moved inside her.

  Her breath hitched, thighs clamping around my hips.

  I went at her harder, until her nails embedded in my back, and I had my hand over her mouth to silence her moans.

  She tightened around me, and I dropped my chin to my chest, biting back a groan as I came.

  The idea that neither of us had to go without this cycled through my head. There were only three weeks until graduation. And then what…

  We were on borrowed time, but that’s what I’d been living on for the past few years of my life; stealing cars and dealing drugs to pay bills--there was a definite risk there. And there was a massive risk here. Each day I spent with Drew, each kiss, each fuck, would make losing her harder, but I didn’t care.

  She was a high, a thrill, something I needed even if I knew it would be to my own damn detriment. I was a risk-taker and I was pretty damn sure, Drew Morgan would always be my greatest risk.

  She cut the shower off, then we dried each other off.

  Naked, no makeup, her hair a damp, tangled mess-- God, she was gorgeous. Perfect. Mine.

  Mine for how much longer...

  “How long were you planning to stay after graduation?” I asked, running the towel over her hair to dry it.

  “I don’t know. I usually go stay with my Mom in the summer because I hate my dad. I was thinking I’d stick around this year.”

  “Why?”

  “You know why.”

  Because of me.

  I handed her the towel and she wrapped it around her body. Three weeks until graduation. Then eight weeks until she’d be leaving for college.

  “So why are you going to stay here.” I grabbed my jeans from the floor and pulled them up. “If we can’t even see each other?”

  Inhaling a hard breath, she nodded. “Is this the part where we break up?”

  “No. This is the part where you leave.” I’d spent the last seven days away from her, and I didn’t want to do that again. It was rash--absolutely--but wasn’t that how Drew and I worked? On a series of rash decisions. I started into her room, heading straight for her closet.

  “What?”

  I grabbed one of her suitcases and started filling it with clothes.

  She stepped inside the closet, gripping the towel around her chest. “And go where?”

  “To my house. He doesn’t want you to see me? Fuck him.”

  “Bellamy…” She let out a sigh. “Pretty sure your mom is not going to be okay with that.”

  “What if she was?” I threw a stack of jeans into her suitcase.

  I knew my mom, and she wouldn’t care.

  “If she’s not. I’ll get my own place. I don’t give a shit. You’re not staying in this house like some trapped fucking princess locked in a tower. And if you do, I’m going to jail...”

  “I…” Her eyes closed, and a moment of self-doubt crept in. Maybe she didn’t feel the same way I did.

  “It’s not as simple as that, and you know it,” she said.

  “No, I don’t know it.” I tossed more clothes in. “Because I wouldn’t let someone control me like this.” Another shirt landed in the suitcase.

  “You have your own money, Bellamy. I’m just...some spoiled brat.”

  She wasn’t. She was so much more than that. “Then stop being a spoiled brat, Drew.”

  “How?” She stared at me like I’d lost my mind, her gaze shifting from me to the suitcase I kept filling. “By moving in with you? You have to know how crazy that sounds.”

  “Yeah? And you’re fucking crazy, so…” I zipped the suitcase and glared at her.

  I sounded crazy, and I knew it, but that’s what Drew did to me. Made me fucking lunatic crazy. “And you’ve made me a fucking psycho,” I said.

  A small smile touched her lips. “Believe me when I say, I’d love nothing more than to walk out of here and flip my dad off on the way out the door. But I have nothing to offer you, Bellamy.”

  “Oh, you’ve got plenty to offer me, baby girl…” I stepped toward her, grabbing her waist. “I’d have you at my beck and call.” I smirke
d.

  “You’re a dick.”

  Everything about why I was doing this was selfish. Every damn thing. Because I wanted as much of her as I could have before she left. I wanted every damn second I could steal with her. So I pushed where I knew she’d give.

  “Where’s the rebel at? The girl who had me arrested and let Hendrix set her car on fire just to try and get expelled?” I yanked her close, brushing my lips to hers. “You aren’t a spoiled brat, baby girl, you’re a fucking nightmare. And no one locks the evil queen in the tower…”

  “This is why my dad doesn’t like you. You make me want to do insane things. You make me want to set fire to everything shiny and watch it burn.”

  “Nah. I just give you the match.”

  “You’re absolutely insane...” Her gaze lingered on mine for a moment before she let out a breath. “Fuck it.” She kissed me before resting her forehead against mine. “Move in with my criminal boyfriend? Why not?”

  “That’s the spirit, baby girl.”

  “But we have to plan this out...”

  And the next morning, I sat at the Jet Pep across from the entrance to Barrington Heights, waiting until her dad’s Maserati zoomed past to go to her house and grab her shit.

  43

  Drew

  I pulled away from the bank, cutting through the rush hour traffic in the center of Barrington. Instead of turning towards Barrington prep, I headed into Dayton. To Bellamy.

  This was insanity.

  I’d only known Bellamy for a few weeks, and half of that time, we’d hated each other.

  He’d seen me at my worst, and if anything, my worst was what he liked best. In a world where I’d always been sub-par, he made me feel like something special.

  I wanted whatever this crazy, burning addiction I had for him was. I craved the way he made me feel so alive, like all my imperfections were perfect. I’d jump into the unknown for him, but also for me. Screw the future, and the what-ifs and maybes.