No Good: A Standalone Enemies to Lovers Romance

by Stevie J. Cole

  “You aren’t supposed to steal any car…”

  Her fingers played over the back of my neck. “It’s kinda hot though, seeing you get all dirty doing guy shit.”

  It took over an hour to get the damn thing running, but once we did, that engine purred like an angry jungle cat.

  Drew attempted to pull weeds from the seat before she sat down. “This is far less exciting than I thought it would be.”

  “You want exciting, baby girl?” I revved the engine before fishtailing out of the overgrown lot. The car swerved across the gravel road, catching air when it hit an embankment. “Better?”

  “Oh, yeah.”

  She reached for my belt, then pulled me out, and my foot pressed harder over the accelerator.

  Her warm lips wrapped around my dick, and I had to fight to not close my eyes.

  “Shit, baby girl.” I reached around her to shift the gear, swerving around Wolf’s pickup and bypassing him.

  I dropped the gear down a notch, and waved, pointing at Drew’s bobbing head before I sped off.

  Something about the speed of the car, the headlights cutting across the dark road, the adrenaline spinning through me at the possibility of getting caught in a stolen car--it did it for me.

  It wasn’t two miles down the road, I had my hand gripping the back of Drew’s head, the other arm stiff against the wheel and my legs stretched out, the speedometer at one-thirty, and the fucking fire of the best orgasm of my life tearing through me at warp speed.

  Drew pushed up, wiping the corners of her mouth on a smile before she fell back into her seat. “Next time, I’ll let you fuck me on the hood…”

  That’s when I knew I was in love. God, I was screwed.

  47

  Drew

  We sat at the rickety kitchen table, eating the hamburger steak and macaroni I’d helped Carol prepare.

  Arlo bounced up and down, humming to himself while Grandpa messed with his dentures.

  Despite knowing this was temporary, I couldn’t remember having ever been as happy as I had these last few weeks. Even though I was living in a small house, in the worst part of Dayton, and my father hated me. Because I no longer ate Push-Pops for dinner on my own. Carol treated me the way I wished my mom would, asking me how I was, making sure I ate. Little things like that.

  I had a taste of the things money could never possibly buy.

  “So, you’re graduating tomorrow. That’s exciting,” Carol said as Bellamy took a seat next to me. My stomach knotted.

  “What’s graduating?” Arlo said, spearing a piece of macaroni.

  “It’s when you finish school,” I said, forcing a smile.

  “And then what?”

  I didn’t want to think about the “then what” because, in my case, it meant I had to move a thousand miles away. And that was the last thing I wanted to do.

  “Then you either get a job, or go to college.” I forced another smile, then took a sip of water while he nodded.

  Carol cleared her throat. “Speaking of college. Where is Cornell, Drew?”

  Grandpa reached across the table to grab a roll. “That’s up there in New York, ain’t it?”

  “Yeah.”

  Carol’s gaze shifted from me to Bellamy, then back. “Oh, that’s nice. New York.”

  That same sense of loss settled into my chest every time I thought about going.

  It was stupid. I was always going to Cornell, since I had turned ten years’ old, it had been my dream--my planned escape.

  Dayton was meant to be temporary.

  Bellamy should have been temporary.

  But in the little time I’d had with him, I’d felt more complete than I had in my entire life. And suddenly, New York felt like the ends of the earth, and I didn’t want to escape anymore.

  Carol helped herself to more macaroni. “Bellamy applied for scholarships at Alabama State, and the university down in Birmingham.”

  “Mom…”

  “What? You’re in the honor’s society at school. You have a good shot at it, honey.” She beamed, and I shouldn’t have envied the pride she had in him.

  I looked at him. “You’re in the honor’s society?” I tried not to sound too shocked, but seriously?

  He angrily shoveled a piece of meat into his mouth, glaring at me as he chewed. “Don’t be a dick, Drew.”

  “Bellamy!”

  Carol gasped, Grandpa snickered, and Arlo started chanting dick over and over, while I laughed.

  “I didn’t ask to be in it,” he grumbled. “They just do that shit.”

  “It’s not a bad thing,” I said, thinking I just didn’t expect it from the local drug dealer.

  He cocked a brow on a smirk. “Exactly…so keep that shit to yourself.”

  “He’d be the first in our family to go to college. I don’t know why he’s so grumpy about it.”

  “He’s grumpy about it ‘cause you’re making a fuss, Carol.” Grandpa shook his head, then guzzled his Budweiser. “Men don’t like no fuss over them.”

  Grandpa had decided to move in ever since Bellamy’s dad showed up. I could tell Bellamy felt better having him here, and it took some of the stress off his shoulders.

  I glanced at Arlo and found him staring at me, not eating.

  “You okay, Peehead?”

  His eyes watered and his bottom lip poked out. “Are you moving, Miss Drew?”

  I faltered, unsure what to say. I did not want to make him cry. My life was becoming increasingly conflicted. And shouldn’t I be used to that by now?

  “Yeah, but I’ll come back and see you.”

  I didn’t look at Bellamy. Of course he knew I was going to Cornell, but we hadn’t discussed anything really. And while I’d moved in here on a whim, I never could have predicted just how much my little safe house would feel like home.

  Arlo’s frown deepened before he pushed back from the table, then took off down the hall.

  The door to his room slammed closed, and Carol sighed. Bellamy stared down at his plate, obviously avoiding looking in my direction before he started to push back.

  “I’ll go,” I said, rising to my feet and following after the little boy who had already had such a turbulent life. I knocked on his door, and when I got no answer, I pushed inside.

  He was face down on his SpongeBob bed sheets, the unicorn I’d won him on the floor.

  I took a seat on the edge of the bed and rubbed his back, heartbroken at his quiet sobs.

  “Arlo, I promise I’ll come back and see you.”

  At this point, I’d come and see the kid, even if Bellamy and I didn’t work out.

  “Every week?” His little voice nearly killed me.

  “How about every month,” I said. “But, I’ll bring you presents.”

  He flipped over to glare at me. “No.” Then went right back to his pillow.

  “And we can hang out on the holidays. Every summer and Christmas and Easter.”

  “Still not good enough!”

  “We can Facetime every day.”

  He sniffled, still refusing to turn over. “Why don’t you love him no more?”

  Words got stuck around a lump in my throat. Arlo thought I loved Bellamy--and didn’t kids usually see everything adults refused to see? Shit. Was I in love with him?

  It was something I wouldn’t easily admit to myself because then it would mean I needed Bellamy. And I didn’t want to need anyone.

  What if I did love him? The boy had never said much more than he liked me, and wanted to screw my brains out. But the way that he made me feel… That made me believe he loved me, even when I didn’t want to. Because love was uncomfortable. It made people vulnerable. And it had the power to destroy everything.

  “No, that’s not it,” I said. How did I explain this to a kid where he’d understand? “That school is just far away, so I can’t live here.”

  “So, go to Bellamy’s college. So you don’t have to leave us.”

  And that thought had plagued me for the last
couple of weeks as I’d filled out back up “what if” applications. I told myself it was in case Cornell got wind of my discipline record from Dayton. They’d accepted me before I even got kicked out of Black Mountain, and I guessed my dad paid them to honor that offer after expulsion. Of course, that wasn’t actually the reason I filled out that application to Alabama State, but changing my chosen college for a guy I’d been dating for a couple of months... It was naive. It was absolutely insane.

  “We’ll see,” I said.

  That made him sit up. He wiped at his nose with his sleeve. “Promise?”

  Damn, the kid was killing me. “I promise I’ll think about it,” I said, then I kissed his forehead.

  Arlo threw his arms around my neck and told me he loved me.

  That was the first time I’d heard those words from another person and felt like they meant it--

  And that was soul-destroying.

  Later that night, I laid in Bellamy’s bed, staring at the ceiling. My chest was still raw with emotions.

  A sliver of light spilled into the room from the hallway when he cracked the door and crept in.

  “He made me read that dumb book about the snoring man ten times before he fell asleep,” he said.

  Even on the nights Carol was home, Arlo insisted Bellamy be the one to read him his bedtime story. He said Bellamy did the best voices.

  “He also said he needs a phone to Facetime you if you move.” He tugged his jeans off before climbing into bed. “He said you told him you might stay…”

  He dragged me onto his bare chest. I rested my palm over his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart. “The kid strong-armed me.” It was half a lie. “I said I’d think about it.”

  We were graduating tomorrow, and as much as I was ready to be done with school and controlling adults, I wasn’t ready to face the fork in the road that had magically appeared in front of me.

  Bellamy exhaled, staring up at the ceiling as he swept his hand through my hair.

  I knew it bothered him, but he would never say anything. That wasn’t how Bellamy worked.

  “You know you’re gonna go, Drew,” he said. “Just rip the Band-Aid off and make it easier on him…”

  “I feel shit for leaving him.” I’d never felt so torn in my life. I didn’t want to leave either of them.

  Bellamy reached over to the nightstand and turned off the light, and we laid there in the darkness. The only noise was his heavy breaths, and the occasional sound of Scooter howling at the cop sirens in the distance.

  I wondered when I left, would I eventually become some long-forgotten girl that he once rescued. Would time and distance make all of this seem like something he could lose?

  “You know...” He exhaled, lifting my body with the hard rise of his chest. “I’m not gonna be okay with you dating other guys up there, right?”

  “What?”

  “Just because you move doesn’t mean I’m done with you, baby girl.”

  My heart skipped. A pressure in my ribs eased as he answered a question I had debated in my head for the last few weeks: Would he want to stay with me?

  “You’d still want to be with me when I’m halfway across the country?”

  “You could be on the other side of the globe and I’d want to kill a motherfucker for thinking he could have you.”

  He was a Neanderthal, but his possessiveness meant everything at that moment.

  “No one else could have me.” I had to say it, had to put it out there. “But it will be shit for you.”

  Seconds passed where the beat of his heart against my palm quickened.

  “It’ll be shit either way,” he said.

  I imagined myself in New York. Him stuck here, or at college nearby. For four years.

  “Eventually you’d move on,” I whispered, and that thought killed me--Him with a faceless girl. Her having Arlo’s love, maybe even Bellamy’s. It made me feel sick.

  “No. Because I fucking....” His hold on me tightened. “I like you, Drew.”

  “I like you too.” That wasn’t even close to it though. Because I loved him, but a guy like Bellamy....he wasn’t the guy who fell in love with a hopeless girl.

  And I was hopelessly in love with him.

  Silence engulfed us once more. Whatever I did, it would be tough, but for the first time in my life, I felt like someone had my back. Bellamy felt like gravity, keeping me in orbit.

  “So, how does it feel to have spent all those years in your stupid-ass prep school just to receive a diploma from one of America’s worst schools?”

  “You know, I don’t appreciate your negativity right now.”

  “Dayton graduate…” He snorted. “Do you even know the Alma Mater?”

  “Definitely not. God, I can just imagine how awful that graduation ceremony is going to be.”

  “Pretty terrible.” He swept a hand over my arm. “Some guy usually sells his moonshine out of the back of his truck, so half the football stadium is shitfaced by the end of it.”

  “Wow.”

  I’d have skipped it if I could. Mainly because I knew no one would be there for me.

  Neither my mom or dad had even called me. I shouldn’t have cared. My dad wasn’t someone whose approval or pride I needed. Stuff like that shouldn’t have to be earned with blood, sweat, and tears.

  My fingers crept over Bellamy’s chest, playing with the small crucifix at his throat.

  “Is your mom going to graduation tomorrow?”

  “Yeah. Why wouldn’t she?”

  “I don’t know. Thought she might have to work.”

  “Nah. She put in to be off three months ago.”

  “Of course,” I whispered, my voice wavering.

  “Screw your dad, Drew,” he said, sweeping a hand over my face, like he knew exactly what I was thinking.

  “Not like I expect anything from him at this point.” It bothered me, of course it did. My dad’s rejection was still a knife in my chest. I couldn’t voice that out loud though. “I’m his greatest disappointment, remember?”

  Bellamy grabbed my face, forcing me to look at him through the dark. “You’re smart and funny, and you stand up for yourself. And if he thinks anything about that’s a disappointment, he can fuck right off.”

  I didn’t know what to say.

  His hands knotted in my hair as he shifted his weight on top of me, peppering kisses down my throat. “You’re the best person I’ve ever known, baby girl. So fuck him.”

  A lump formed in my throat, my heart squeezed. “I don’t deserve you,” I said.

  “You’re right.” He pressed a soft kiss to my mouth. “You deserve better.”

  “I don’t want better.”

  “Good. Now tell me you hate me.”

  I smiled. “I hate you. So much.”

  48

  Bellamy

  The longer I laid there, staring at the ceiling, the angrier I grew. Until the small trickle of fire seeping through my veins turned into a raging inferno. He’d hurt her, and I couldn’t stand it.

  By the time eleven o’clock rolled around, I’d climbed out of bed and thrown on clothes, quietly leaving the house. And now, I was pulling onto the street she used to live on, fuming.

  I wanted to punch him in the face for making her feel like shit.

  The motion detector flashed to life when I parked in the drive behind his stupid Maserati.

  Another light came on when I stepped onto the porch, then banged a fist over the door.

  Footfalls came from inside before Mr. Morgan opened the door, still in a dress shirt and slacks. Clutching a whiskey glass in his hand like a true, arrogant prick. He stared up at me, and the urge to punch him right in the face was almost unbearable.

  “You’ve made it apparent what you think of me,” I said. My jaw ticced. “But I’d like to make it crystal-fucking-clear what I think of you, William. I think you’re pathetic.”

  He bristled, and when he went to close the door, I caught it with my hand, barging my w
ay inside his foyer.

  “I’ll call the cops if you don’t leave.”

  “I don’t give a shit.” My fists clenched at my side. “If that’s what it takes for you to listen to me, call them. You think money and titles and fucking boarding schools are what’s important? Flashy cars and Rolexes.” I flicked the face of his watch, and he stumbled back a step. “When the thing that should have more worth to you than anything is your daughter.”

  His expression fell, going completely blank. “My daughter was just fine until you dragged her down to your level.”

  I moved forward and he moved back. “You think she was just fine when she has a father who didn’t even remember her birthday? All she is a possession to you. Something pretty you can flaunt. Something you could brag about.” I shoved at his chest, and he stumbled against the wall. “Well, fuck you!”

  His mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water before he bolted toward the kitchen.

  But I wasn’t done. “Do you even love her? Because if you do, you sure as hell don’t act like it, and it pisses me the off!”

  When I rounded the doorway, he was behind the kitchen island, his cell phone in one hand and a butcher knife shaking in the other. “Get out of my house!” he managed.

  Drew would never admit it, but she wanted him at her graduation. For whatever reason, and this--This wasn’t the way I got him there. On a deep inhale of breath, I told myself to tone it down a few notches.

  “You don’t want me dating her because you think I’m bad for her, right?” I slowly backed toward the doorway. “I’m not the one breaking her heart. She graduates tomorrow, from the shitass school you forced her into, and right now, she’s in my bed, crying because she thinks you won’t be there.” Unable to tamper my anger, I slammed a palm over the door frame. “And you don’t even deserve her tears, because as far as I’m concerned, you don’t deserve her. That’s coming from someone who does fucking love her.”

  And with that, I stormed out.

  Bright orange from the setting sun blanketed the sky as we sat in the football stadium for graduation. I sat two rows behind Drew, staring out across the field at the parents’ side. Searching for William Morgan.