Bad Boy Next Door: A Small Town College Bad Boy Romance

by Hunter Rose

  36

  Talon

  I take longer than I really need to get the pizza. I need the time away from Wren, even though all I want is to be there with her. There’s just no way I can keep looking into her eyes while she’s talking about throwing away her life just because it’s expected of her. She won’t listen to me. She never has. And I need time away to stop myself from saying or doing something that might hurt her.

  When I get back to her, I sit the box in between us, and we eat pizza straight from it. We talk about nothing, laughing our way through stories that hinge on keeping us away from talking about Isaiah or anything beyond today. It was already the middle of the evening when she got back to her dorm, and when we finish the pizza and are most of the way through our second movie, the door suddenly swings open. Christina tumbles inside, clinging to the doorknob, so she rides it across the floor as it opens. Nearly falling, she laughs and tries to get to her feet. The narrow strap that ties her high heels around her ankle does absolutely no good at stabilizing the ridiculous shoes, and they slide around, refusing to provide any stability for her to stand on. A guy steps up behind her and reaches down to take her by the waist and pull her up.

  Wren starts to climb off the bed to go help her, but Christina waves her off.

  “I’m fine,” she says. “Doing just fine.”

  “Are you sure?” Wren asks. “Seems like you’re having a little bit of trouble in the walking area.”

  “Just celebrating the semester starting again,” Christina says.

  “Looks like you might have done a little too much celebrating,” I point out.

  “Not too much. Just enough.”

  She swirls around. I’m momentarily afraid she’s going to crash down to the floor, but she catches herself with her arms around the guy’s neck. I don’t recognize him, but the kiss she plants on his lips tells me her short-lived fling with Damien is gone from her mind. At least for now. He wraps his arms around her waist, and they start a strange scuttling type walk toward Christina’s bed. They manage to get there in one piece and stoop down on to it. Christina looks over the TV.

  “Movie night! What are you watching?”

  She doesn’t actually seem too interested in the answer. By the time Wren starts to tell her, she’s already crawling back up into the guy’s lap.

  “So, Christina, are you going to introduce us to your friend?” I ask.

  She pulls back from the kiss and searches the guy’s face. The answer I hear doesn’t give me the most confidence in their deep connection. She seems to be not only trying to remember what the man’s name is, but also how she managed to get back into the room with him.

  “Um… “

  “Steven,” the guy says. “Good to meet you.”

  He extends his hand toward me to shake, but he’s still holding Christina around her waist with one arm. This results in her leaning all the way back and nearly toppling off the edge of the bed as he reaches toward me. I grasp his hand and shake it.

  “Talon. And this is Wren.”

  She gives a single wave from beside me.

  “I’ve heard about you,” Steven says. “You’re the one with the crazy sister who tried to get married skydiving.”

  Wren curls her lips in and shakes her head. “Nope. I’m an only child.”

  Christina is kissing her way along his neck like she might at any second, unhinge her jaw and swallow him whole. He barely seems to notice. I don’t know what that says about either one of them.

  “Oh,” Steven says. “I could have sworn that was you.”

  “Still an only child.”

  “So, how did you and Christina meet? You been seeing each other for a while?”

  He grins and shakes his head. “We met at the laundromat. It was busy, and she moved her delicates out of the washer but had to wait for the dryer. I put my jeans in right after. When mine were done washing, I pulled them out and found some of her lacy panties clinging to my jeans. As you can imagine, that got us talking,” Steven says.

  “I mean, clearly. I can’t imagine not having a conversation after that,” I say.

  Wren muffles a laugh behind her hand.

  “The dryers were still being used up by other people, so we just went ahead and tossed everything in together. Then we just kept hanging out,” Steven continues.

  “When was this?” Wren asks.

  “Around eight,” he nods.

  “Tonight?” she asks incredulously.

  “Yep.” He points to the TV. “Your movie’s over. Up for another one?”

  Comparing all available options, she’s in the one that’s best for the situation. I could say no, and he could leave, but there is a strong possibility Christina would go stumbling after him. That doesn’t seem like the best decision right now. She’s not functioning well and shouldn’t be out wandering on her own. Or with other people for that matter. Then there’s the option of putting on another movie and just waiting to see what happens.

  “You don’t have to stay,” Wren tells me. “I can keep an eye on her.”

  “Absolutely not,” I say. “I’m not leaving you here with her and some guy neither of us know.”

  “You know he’s sitting right there. He can hear you,” she says.

  “You seriously think he’s going to remember any of this tomorrow?”

  “Probably not,” Steven says.

  I point at him and nod. “There you go. Now, what movie do you want to see next?”

  At the halfway point through the next movie, Christina topples off Steven and falls into a deep, snore-studded sleep. I’m expecting him to take that as his cue to leave. Instead, he just looks at her for a few seconds, pulls the blanket up over her, and goes back to watching the movie. Turns out for as questionable as his dating methods are, his memory for musical lyrics is iron-clad. I sit on the bed, caught between watching a movie Wren told me I just had to see and have yet to figure out why, and listening to the drunk dude swaying and singing in the dark beside a passed-out girl he just met.

  Finally, Steven tucks himself down into the bed beside Christina and buries his head under the pillow to go to sleep.

  “They’re asleep. You can go now,” Wren says.

  “Did you not hear me when I said absolutely not?” I say. “Asleep or not, that guy is still here, and I’m not trusting him. Either you come back to my apartment with me, or I’m staying here with you,” I tell her.

  “I can’t leave Christina here alone,” she says. “That seems like a terrible idea.”

  “Yes, it does. So, me staying here with you it is. Now, are you ready to go to sleep, or do you want to just make this a movie all-nighter?”

  She sighs heavily as she looks toward the bed full of drunkenness, and then back to the TV.

  “Well, there is a sequel,” she says.

  “Of course there is. Why wouldn’t there be?”

  “You’re doing it again.”

  I smile and pick up the remote.

  37

  Wren

  I tried to stay awake throughout the night. I didn’t want to fall asleep and leave Christina vulnerable. At least, that’s what I told myself. That was definitely a part of it. I’ve seen her meander her way back to the dorm after having a few too many drinks, but she’s never dragged a barely known guy with her before. She’s also never been unable to walk on her own power. Though there is more to me trying to keep my eyes open than that. If I’m being really honest, I need to stay awake, so I don’t lie down next to Talon to sleep.

  It doesn’t work. I struggle my way through the next movie, but by the time we are only a few scenes into his choice for the next in our marathon, I’m struggling to keep my eyes open. Then my head bounces up, and I realize I fell asleep sitting up. I eventually have to give myself up to sleep and lie down. Talon is close behind me in the tiny dorm bed. I can feel his heat and the strength of his presence. I try not to touch him. If I stay on my side and don’t shift around, we can sleep in our own space and not real
ly be near each other. Except for the less than three inches of mattress that part us.

  Unfortunately, my sleeping brain seems to have different ideas. When I open my eyes, I’m facing the other direction, curled up with my head rested on Talon’s shoulder and his hand on my hip. Before I have a chance to react, I hear Christina groan across the room. I’m immediately worried about her, concerned I fell asleep and left her at the mercy of some guy who might not be as nice as he seemed right off the bat. I’m ready to jump in to defend her, but when I sit up, I see her leaning on one elbow, her hair tangled and matted in all directions, and a confused look on her face.

  She looks down at Steven beside her, and her eyes widen. They snap over to me, and I wave silently. Eyes still bugging out of her face, she points down at the sleeping man currently clenching her legs with his.

  “Who is this?” she mouths.

  “Steven,” I whisper.

  She looks down at him again and then back up at me.

  “Who’s Steven?”

  I shrug. “You’re the one who brought him home.”

  “I did?”

  “Apparently, you two met at the laundromat yesterday before you went out celebrating the new semester starting,” I tell her, recounting the stories they told us about yesterday evening. “At least, that’s how we pieced it together.”

  “We?” She left a little to glance behind me. “Is that Talon?”

  I nod. “He refused to leave last night because he wasn’t going to leave me alone with some guy I didn’t know, and I wasn’t going to leave you alone with some guy that neither of us know.”

  She gets a softer look on her face. “Awwww, that’s sweet. Wait. Did you say I met him at the laundromat yesterday?”

  “According to him, you were in there washing your delicates, and some of them ended up clinging to his jeans after he washed his clothes in the same machine you were using. I’m not going to make any personal commentary on his use of the word delicates, but that’s what he says happened,” I tell her.

  ”The laundromat?” she asks again. I can’t help but notice the astounded note in her voice.

  “The two of you put your laundry into the same dryer together and then spent the rest of the evening together. I guess that means your delicates really aren’t that delicate?”

  “I have no idea because I didn’t go to the laundromat yesterday,” she says. “Why would I? I just got back from being at home for three weeks. Why would I need to go do laundry?”

  “I hadn’t even thought of that. You said you went out last night to celebrate. Where did you go?”

  “There was a house party. I texted you about it. It started pretty early, and then I hit a couple of after-hours clubs. I think.”

  “Well, at some point in there, you also decided to do some laundry because there’s your laundry partner right beside you.”

  “But where’s the laundry?” she asks. “Everything I brought back to campus with me is still in my suitcase sitting right there in the closet.”

  “Then why would you go to a laundromat?” I ask.

  “I think the more important question is, whose underwear was I washing?”

  I’m still laughing when someone knocks on the door. Her bewildered look and the way she continues to stare down at Steven, attempting to stitch together the apparently ragged pieces of yesterday evening distracts me enough to not even glance through the peephole before pulling the door open. The laughter dies in my throat when I turn to the hall and see Isaiah standing there.

  “Why didn’t you answer your phone?” he asks. “I called you three times last night.”

  “You did?” I ask, trying to position myself in between him and the rest of the room.

  It’s all but useless. Isaiah is more than six inches taller than me and can just peer right over my head if he wants to see something.

  “Yes. You left one of your bags in the car, and I wanted to meet up for dinner to give it to you. It rang, but you never answered. I called and texted you a few times this morning, too.”

  “Um. Christina came back not feeling great, and we were hanging out watching movies. I turned the ringer off and just didn’t think about it. I’m sorry. Why don’t you give me a few minutes to get dressed and we can go grab some breakfast?”

  I have my hand on his chest, trying to convince him it’s an affectionate touch when it’s really an attempt to shove him back into the hallway. My head’s spinning and my throat feels tight and painful.

  “Is something wrong?” he asks. The tension from his face falls slightly, and he reaches for my other hand. “I know you’re upset about what happened over Christmas. But don’t worry. You don’t need to be embarrassed.”

  “Isaiah, I…” I start, but his eyes move from their connection with mine to above my head, stuck across the room in the direction of my bed.

  Mine close and squeeze shut before I turn to look. Talon is propped up on one elbow, still tucked beneath the covers, looking at us.

  “Good morning, Isaiah,” he says.

  Isaiah drops my hand, and I turn back him. He looks like someone just punched him in the face. He stumbles back a step.

  “Isaiah, it’s not what you think,” I say. I’ve always made fun of movies and TV shows when they say something like that, but this time it’s actually true.

  “How could you?” he asks. “Him again? How long has this been going on?”

  “Nothing is going on,” I tell him. “He came over last night, and we had some pizza, but Christina-”

  ”Don’t bring her into this,” Isaiah interrupts. “She doesn’t have anything to do with you and this guy.”

  “Actually, it is my fault,” Christina offers from across the room. “I came home drunk; I did something really stupid. They were trying to protect me. That’s all.”

  “The mess between these two has been going on for a lot longer than last night,” Isaiah tells her.

  I swallow hard. Christina knows exactly how long it’s been going on. She saw the video.

  “She’s telling the truth,” Talon says. “Nothing happened…last night.”

  There was a slight hesitation in the sentence, just too much of a pause before ‘last night’. It added significance to the sentence that shouldn’t be there, but that I know Talon intends. The smirk on his face confirms it.

  “Isaiah, we need to talk about this,” I say.

  “Do we?” he asks. “Is this why you ran away from me when I tried to propose?”

  “He proposed?” Christina asks in shock.

  I shake my head. “No.”

  “I couldn’t. I tried to, but she got so worked up, she wouldn’t even listen to me. I thought it might just be nerves and excitement, but now I know what’s actually going on. This guy has gotten to you again, and you can’t think straight. When are you going to stop letting him control you?”

  That pushes me right over the edge. I’m trying. Really, I am. But I’m tired of the pain in my throat and crushing feeling in my chest whenever I think of Isaiah or Talon. I thought I just needed more time to think, and I’d eventually come to terms with how fast my life is moving. I’d realize this is what I’ve been waiting for and what I want. But I don’t need more time.

  “When am I going to stop letting him control me? Are you seriously kidding me right now?” I explode.

  “I think I’m going to go take a shower,” Christina says, starting to climb over Steven.

  “No,” I say. “You sit. I need people to hear this and remind me when I start second-guessing myself. Isaiah, no one in my life has ever controlled me like you do. And I let you. I let myself get completely wrapped up in you, our relationship, and what I thought it meant for our future. Why wouldn’t I? You should be the perfect guy for me. I should feel honored you love me and want to be with me, and that you want to start our life together so soon. But the thing is, I don’t think you actually want that. I think you’re just as afraid as me, and you don’t know what you want in your future, so you�
�re clinging to the idea of me. Because it’s easy. Because it’s something comfortable and familiar. Since we were thirteen you’ve looked ahead and seen us shaping our lives together. College, marriage, law school, a house in the neighborhood back home, and children. You’ll be a lawyer, and I’ll be… what? What will I be, Isaiah?”

  “A wife and mother,” he offers. “Isn’t that what you’ve always wanted?”

  “That’s the thing; I don’t even know. I think so. I think that’s what I want, but I’ve been told it’s what I want for so long I can’t even tell anymore. But, Isaiah, this isn’t about you trying to control my life by shuffling me off to Boston. It’s not even about Talon. It’s about the way we feel when we’re together. Can you honestly look at me and say you can’t imagine your life without me? That you are so consumed by your love for me, it seems impossible to even spend one minute without each other?”

  He draws in a breath but doesn’t answer.

  “I think that’s enough of an answer,” Talon says.

  I whip around to face him and shove a finger in his direction. “You don’t talk.” I turn back to Isaiah. “We’ve been good together, Isaiah. But I can’t keep living my life the way other people tell me to. And I can’t start to plan a future with someone who doesn’t trust me and is so willing to think terrible things about me even when I tell him it’s not true. I don’t have it in me anymore to convince myself we’re right for each other, or that the feelings I have aren’t there.”

  His shoulders square and pull back as he glares down at me.

  “So, that’s it? You’re throwing away the last six years, and everything we have planned because of some fleeting crush? I made sacrifices for you, Wren. I was going to go to Harvard. But I stayed here with you so we could be together. And now you’re choosing him over me?” he asks.

  “No, Isaiah. I’m choosing me.”

  “I’ll leave your bag at the desk.”

  He whirls around and stomps down the hallway. My body sags, and I feel like something just got ripped out of me, but at the same time, there’s relief. I turn around and see Talon smiling at me. I shake my head.