The Bad Boy’s Heart

by Holden, Blair

I reach for the wig, the iconic redheaded waves that were part of the fantasies of many, many guys and still are. When I secure it over my head, it doesn’t look like a cheap knockoff, and maybe that because I did spend a good fortune on this whole look. The hair looks real, waves tumbling down one side, obscuring part of my face while the rest forms a thick sheath down my back. It’s a deep, rich red that complements my skin tone and my red lips.

  Oh-kay, this is working.

  The last thing I go for are the purple, elbow-length gloves, and as I slide them on, I do feel sexy, like Cami said.

  Sexy and ready to keep the vultures away from my man. If it takes channeling Jessica Rabbit to get them to back off, then bring it.

  ***

  I open the door to see Cole’s back and catch sight of a black jacket. I still don’t know who he’s going as, he’s been getting ready in their spare bathroom and being stubborn and mysterious.

  But he hears the click of my heels and turns.

  And that look on his face?

  Yup, definitely worth it.

  “Holy Shit,” he swears under his breath as his eyes look hungrily over me, and I find myself doing the same to him.

  James Dean.

  He’s going as James Dean.

  My bad boy is going as the ultimate one, and I’ve just died and gone to heaven. I watch him hurriedly cross the room and get closer to me. He’s put product in his hair in an attempt to get it to behave and pushed it up, wearing a black leather jacket, white T-shirt, and dark washed jeans—he looks like a dream.

  Well, he always does, but whoa, when Cole Stone makes an effort to look good?

  Lord have mercy.

  But right now, he’s devouring me with his eyes; his hands are skating over my arms, my sides, my face. It’s like he doesn’t know where to touch me first. I notice his eyes zooming in on the expanse of the exposed skin of my leg, and his jaw begins to tick, his eyes dark.

  “Fuck, you look…”

  “Surprised?”

  It seems like it takes him some effort to take his eyes off my leg and to my face, but when he does, I notice those piercing blue orbs are smoldering.

  God, he’s so hot.

  “Let’s just say you’ll be lucky if you’re able to walk tomorrow, Tessie.”

  Oh My.

  He grabs my hand and begins to pull me toward the door. “The sooner we get to this thing, the sooner we get back. Now come on.”

  I scramble and grab my clutch and phone, a coat to throw over the dress, and Cole’s keys, because he sure as hell isn’t going to remember to take them. The man’s on a mission, and I am so looking forward to how well he manages to accomplish it.

  Chapter Seventeen: I’d Be the Guy from Twilight, but the Store Ran out of Body Glitter

  I swat Cole’s hands off of me for the fifteenth time in five minutes. It’s not the easiest task because he’s so determined, but I’ve been getting way too many longing stares projected in our direction for me to be comfortable with it.

  An exhibitionist I am certainly not. Just the thought of some girl looking at us, imagining herself in my place and picturing my boyfriend naked, makes my skin crawl, so I try my best not to give them visual representations to shape their fantasies after.

  But the stubborn hunk of a man attached to my side isn’t making it easy for me; his hands keep wandering, his lips often finding their way to mine and his arms wrapped around me. It’s also convenient because he glares at anyone within a five-foot radius, so that we’re left relatively alone. That doesn’t, however, mean that I don’t feel the laser-beam-like wistfulness of all the women and some of the men here burning into the side of my head.

  “You put that dress on knowing what it would entail, Tessie; don’t play with me.”

  Good point.

  I’d known dressing up as the fantasy of most prepubescent boys, aka Jessica Rabbit, would get me in a bit of trouble with Cole. I’m testing him, and I did it on purpose, so if it means dealing with his grabby hands, then so be it.

  It’s not like it’s much of a sacrifice, right?

  The sorority house is decked out to the extremes for Halloween, and, in typical college party fashion, it’s not really about who dressed up the scariest. It’s just a bunch of stressed students blowing off some steam before going back to the books. Drinks are flowing freely, the music is loud and buzzing, everyone’s dancing, and the ones who aren’t are catching up with their significant or not-so-significant others.

  Cole said hi to the bare minimum of people I knew, and I had to drag him to the girls, Cami’s friends who invited us, since they looked like they were ready to start slobbering once they saw him. Even though they haven’t exactly been the nicest to my new friend, the manners my mother forced into me at a very young age made me subject Cole to the mind-numbing torture of the two girls fawning all over him.

  Now they’ve finally let him go, and we’re getting a feel for the place. Of course, Cole insists on going back to his apartment but hey, as delicious as he looks, I’ve put some serious time and effort into this look, and if he has to put a lid on what he needs, then so be it.

  “I thought you didn’t like parties,” he grumbles beside me; he’s been nursing the same bottle of beer for the past half hour, and it seems like he isn’t in the mood to get more than a little buzzed. I, on the other hand, could use some liquid courage tonight. We’re getting stared at, and we’re definitely getting stared at a lot. But what’s surprising is that I’m not getting vicious glares sent my way, well, not mostly. What’s got Cole in a cranky mood is the fact that it’s the guys who can’t seem to stop looking in our direction.

  It’s flattering, of course, but it’s also making me feel highly uncomfortable, like they’re all picturing me naked, and this dress definitely doesn’t leave much to the imagination. That explained why Cole had been so insistent on dragging me to a corner and covering my body with his, shielding me from those hungry eyes. But then we were back to square one; I was being insecure and scared, and he had to spend his time playing hero, always rescuing me.

  “I don’t like them,” I confirm, “but this is a Halloween party, we’re all in costume. If someone doesn’t like me, then at least I can blame Jessica for it.” I gesture toward my dress and the wig.

  He groans, following the movement of my hands. “Baby, half of the room is salivating looking at you. The only reason someone won’t like you is because you’ve got their boyfriends’ eyes glued to you.”

  “But I only care about one boyfriend’s eyes—mine.” I flash him a grin to put him at ease. He needs to think I’m having fun and that my social anxiety isn’t creeping all up inside me. Because this guy has put himself out there for me enough times, and he deserves to have a girlfriend who isn’t so neurotic.

  “Hey, isn’t that Justin? He’s coming this way; we should say hi.”

  Even though I’d love nothing more than to stay wrapped up in our little bubble all night, it would make this entire exercise pointless. Which is why even though Justin is one of the most sleazy and moronic guys from Cole’s team, I pretend to be as happy to see him as I’d be to see a leprechaun atop a unicorn.

  Suffice it to say, I’m a damn good actress.

  But Cole’s not in the mood to be playful; as the jock approaches us, his body becomes stiffer and he stands half in front of me, his arm going around my back.

  “Nice to see you got away from the ball-and-chain, Stone.”

  Sighing inwardly, I clasp my hand around Cole’s shoulder to spare Justin his life.

  The team would really miss its running back, were he six feet under.

  “Always a pleasure seeing you, Justin,” I interrupt before this guy continues putting his foot in his mouth.

  His eyes widen and he rakes his gaze over me, once again making me feel slimy.

  “Whoa, Tessa, I…I didn’t recognize you there. Jesus, you look…”

  His eyes must remain on my chest a bit too long, so Cole fully stands in front of me an
d slaps Justin’s back, a bit too forcefully, given the wince on the guy’s face.

  “Nice costume, so who are you supposed to be?”

  It looks like he’d been going for the common white guy approach with his pinstriped shirt, a clip-on tie, black slacks, and dress shoes. How on earth this became a Halloween costume, I have no idea.

  “I’m a real estate agent!” He bursts out laughing as if he’s said the funniest thing on the planet. “Made my old man really happy to see me going for the family business. Told me middle-aged divorcees always make for the best…”

  “Okay, then.” Cole slaps his back again, promptly shutting him up before Justin launched into a very vivid description of what he’d like to learn from a single woman in her forties. “Why don’t you get us some drinks and wait by the bar? That girl dressed like Little Red Riding Hood has been eyeing you for some time.”

  Like a dog with a bone, Justin’s eyes zero in on the girl dressed like the fairytale character…only sluttier, because Little Red Riding Hood’s grandma wouldn’t really approve of leather skirts and fishnet tights.

  He chases her down immediately and leaves us in peace. But once at the bar, he keeps shooting Cole smug looks and hollers at him to join him and some other teammates that are there. I know he doesn’t want to, but I push him toward them.

  “Go! I’m not going anywhere.” My hands tug at the lapel of his leather jacket, one that I can’t seem to stop touching. “Bond with the guys; I want to do some people watching. Beth and Megan need evidence that I actually made it this far.”

  He looks uneasy but laughs anyway, kissing me possessively for a while and ignoring the wolf whistles of his teammates. Then he walks away, and I fight the urge to go to my Plan B, as in grab my phone from my clutch and play Candy Crush but look like I’m texting someone really important.

  Predictability, thy name is Tessa.

  “Tessa, is that you?”

  The sound of a friendly, familiar voice makes relief flood through me, so much so that it staggers me, and, as I search for its source, I come across a vampire.

  Literally.

  But it’s Bentley; I can tell from his build and his dark, strikingly black eyes. So even though there’s fake blood smeared across his chin and he’s got fangs and a cape on, I still know the guy. I’ve started working out a lot more regularly and often run into him. It’s strange because even though he’s told me that he trains the evening batch of exercisers, I more often than not run into him in the mornings. But still, despite how embarrassed I’d been to face him after the Cole fiasco, we’ve become good friends, and it feels great to see him here.

  “Hey! I didn’t think you’d be here.”

  He shrugs, and I notice him taking in my appearance but, surprisingly, it doesn’t make me feel dirty, just a little embarrassed.

  “One of my regular clients is in the sorority and she insisted, so here I am.” He does an awkward bow with his cape and I laugh.

  “So, you’re Dracula?”

  “Well, I’d be the guy from Twilight, but the store ran out of body glitter, kinda ruined my whole look.”

  See? This is why it’s so easy to be around this guy, he makes me laugh until my cheeks hurt, and he gets my kind of humor!

  “And wow, you’re like every guy’s childhood fantasy.”

  He blurts this out and then his face colors, still visible under the white paste he’s got on it. Immediately I blush too, because we’re just one big awkward mess.

  “Thanks…I, well, thanks. I didn’t realize guys were that into a cartoon character.”

  “She’s not just a cartoon character!” He seems insulted. “Jessica Rabbit is what every guy shapes his perfect woman after. She’s it, Tessa.”

  “Well, damn, so if I’m not wearing a red wig and tight dress, I’ll never be it for someone?”

  He stutters and I put him out of his misery. “Kidding! I just have a sensitivity to redheads, long story, don’t ask. It took me a while before I could look in the mirror and be okay with this hair, not planning on looking like this for long.”

  He squints in concentration, trying to understand what I’m saying, but comes up short. “Well, uh, I think your hair’s great the way it is. Not Jessica great, but still, uh, it’s shiny.”

  I cough in order to hide a laugh. Shiny? What are we? In second grade?

  But he’s blushing, which is pretty adorable.

  “Now I see why you don’t like coming to team parties. The guys are assholes.” Cole comes back, but his head is turned away from us, which is why when he sees Bentley with me, his face drops. But it doesn’t take him long to get the composure back; keeping a frighteningly blank expression on his face, Cole acknowledges him.

  “Bentley.”

  “Mr. Dean.” He nods.

  What can I say? The guy’s a dork.

  “So,” Cole stuffs his hands in his jeans, “do you mind if I borrow my girlfriend? Thanks for keeping her company.”

  Bentley bows again, the damn cape slapping me in the face. “The pleasure has been all mine.” Before Cole can react, Bentley leans in and kisses my cheek before flapping away.

  Uh-oh.

  Cole glares in the general direction Bentley disappeared. He’s been doing a hell of a lot of glaring tonight; distraction required immediately!

  “What were you saying about the guys? Not all of them are assholes. Parker, Parker’s nice.” I make a feeble attempt to grab his attention by looking toward the spot where Cole’s nicest teammate is flirting quite heavily with Cami. I’ve seen them spend a lot of time together, and although she brushes it off whenever I ask her, they definitely look cozy. She’s dressed up as one would have predicted—a sexy cop, and maybe it’s a complete coincidence that Parker dressed as a burglar, ski mask and everything.

  Hmm, might have to try to make her fess up.

  But currently, I need to keep an eye on my boyfriend who keeps muttering asshole under his breath. His body is locked tight and any of the guys who’d previously been shamelessly staring at me begin to avert their gazes because of protectively Cole hovers over me.

  “Do you want to dance?” My attempt at distraction is not so subtle as I try tugging Cole towards the dance floor. He follows reluctantly and is still busy glaring down any guy who think it’s okay to stare at my boobs for more than two seconds.

  “Hey, stop.” I force him to look at me. “We’re here to have a good time and I’m not okay with you paying more attention to some jerks than you are to me.” He turns toward me and I think it’s working. The longer we’re here, the more the frat boys are veering towards the sexy French maids, the sexy cops and the sexy nurses.

  “Do you have any idea what those guys were saying about you?”

  “Honestly? I don’t care and heck, I know it’s pissing you off but after all the effort I’ve put into this costume it’s nice to know that it’s being appreciated.” I try joking but I don’t think he’s too impressed.

  We’re in the middle of the room and blocking people’s way, so I take Cole’s hand, and he lets me lead him to the dance floor. It’s dark and crowded, the music is loud, and no one’s interested in anything but getting lost in it.

  “Dance with me, okay? We’re here to have fun; relax and dance with me.”

  I can feel him giving in to me, feel his body go lax as he wraps his arms around my waist and hauls me to him. I place mine around his neck and press myself closer. The thin material of my dress and his T-shirt means that little to nothing separates us, and with my heels, my lips are in direct contact with his.

  “Kiss me,” I tell him softly, partly to get him to cool off.

  But it has entirely the opposite effect.

  He kisses me both harshly and softly; he kisses me with possession and love, fiercely and tenderly. He’s making a statement, not just to everyone around us but to me. It’s a dirty, wet kiss, and when we come up for air, there’s just one statement in his eyes, clear for me to see.

  You belong to me.r />
  Because I do, and he does to me.

  The lyrics are crude and blunt, the music rocks, and the beat pulsates around us. I angle my head closer and reach for his lips again, we kiss and we sway. Our hands are eager to touch and discover, and by the time the song ends, my lips feel swollen, dress askew, and I’m completely out of breath.

  The best part?

  Cole hasn’t fared any better.

  We dance to few more songs and then join a group of acquaintances, plus Cami, for a showing of The Rocky Horror Picture Show. I’m having fun, even taking a few pictures to send to my best friends, and I realize that even though I came here for Cole, I’m happy because of me, of what I’ve achieved.

  It’s a great feeling.

  By the time we’re ready to leave, I take a quick trip to the bathroom to freshen up my makeup and make sure my wig’s still secured. Yup, good to go! Because, given how hot and heavy things have gotten, my face is all flushed, my eyes shine so brightly they scare me, and there’s a ridiculously big smile on my face.

  Things are only going to get better…

  With that thought in mind, I leave to look for Cole and there he is, standing with his groupie squad. I’ve stopped paying attention to them, or at least I try not to let it get to me too much. But when they’re all grabby with him, it tends to get on my nerves.

  Right now, he’s keeping them at a respectful distance, and I see how uncomfortable he is, shrugging out of their touches. That snake Allison’s there as well, the one who loves reminding me what a perfect study partner Cole is and how she’s made him promise to study with her for all their common classes.

  I bet she switched her major just to be with him. Went from a theatre major to the engineering one because, I admit, she even makes me doubt my relationship for a millisecond.

  Just a millisecond.

  I watch them from a distance until it becomes painful to see Cole put on the spot like that and move in to save my man.

  “Ready to go home, babe?”

  He looks so happy, I could cry. “Yes, please! I mean, yeah, you’re probably tired, honey.”

  I twine my body all around him like a vine and repel the man-stealing vultures away. “Yeah, let’s call it a night.” I wink at him and he grins mischievously. These ladies are obviously in for a show.