The Bad Boy's Girl (The Bad Boy's Girl Series Book 1)

by Blair Holden

  I don’t know if he wants to kill me with his words alone but if that isn’t his intent then he’s doing a pretty good job of it otherwise. The words we and time sound sweeter than any of the lyrics of the love songs I’ve listened to my entire life. He’s not even being poetic, he’s just being . . . Cole. The impact of the words weighs down on me, as I try to comprehend what this means for us. I don’t get to say much before his phone rings. I shift from his lap and return to my seat, immediately missing his warmth. The relief on his face is more than evident so I realize it must be something to do with Nana Stone. The ringtone he’s set for her is a Beatles’ song I remember hearing a lot when she babysat me.

  “Nana, I told you to wait for me,” he groans, clutching the phone to his ear with one shoulder and starting his car with his free hand.

  I try to make sense of the conversation but when he casually drops in words like breaking and entering, theft, and car chase, my head starts to spin. What is the woman not capable of doing?

  “Wait, what? What did you say you were doing?”

  He falls back into his seat, hitting his head against it several times. I watch all this with an emotion I can only describe as concern coupled with amusement. If someone could make Cole prematurely gray, it would his grandmother.

  “Don’t strip on top of the pool table, Nana,” he says patiently, like talking to a toddler. “What? You can’t expect me to just leave you? I’m coming to get you right now, tell me where you are.”

  I can hear her arguing and then the sound of her infectious laughter. Cole grinds his teeth, obviously feeling annoyed and irritated. It seems like Nana Stone is going to get her way since he mutters several “okays” before hanging up.

  I quirk an eyebrow, following the strangest one-sided conversation I’ve ever heard. “I suppose that could’ve gone better.”

  “She’s staying at some bar with a friend I never knew existed!”

  I open my mouth to say something but he continues to ramble. “I can’t believe she’s doing this. We had a plan, I had a plan for her and now she’s going to start flashing drunken idiots. It’ll be all over YouTube tomorrow. Great, my grandmother, mayor of Cougar Town.”

  He’s out of breath by the time he stops the rant and I have never found him more adorable than this. I know, it’s slightly sadistic of me to enjoy his misery but I cannot help it. Cool, reserved, in-control Cole Stone can lose it too and this trait makes him all the more appealing.

  “Cole, calm down. I’m sure she knows what she’s doing. The woman is more than capable of taking care of herself.”

  “But . . .”

  “But, nothing. I heard her saying that you can pick her up first thing in the morning and bring her back to the retirement home. Give her one day and then tomorrow you can tie her to the bed if you want.”

  I am not someone who possesses or might even remotely want to possess leadership qualities. I’m more than happy to take a backseat; you can superglue me to said seat and I will not complain. I think that’s why we’re both surprised by my authoritative tone. He blinks at me, once, twice and I feel my cheeks beginning to heat up.

  Then when a full-fledged grin makes an appearance, I know I’m doomed.

  “You’re sexy when you get bossy.” He winks and blood boils beneath my cheeks. Yes, he’s made such remarks before but after the developments this morning, his words take a whole new meaning and I’m sweating buckets. He’s flirting with me, right? What do I do? Think, think, think about all the times you’ve watched The Hills! What is it that Megan’s always saying? WWLCD? What the heck would Lauren Conrad do?

  “Shut up.”

  No, LC would definitely not do that.

  I’m thankful that he doesn’t try to further my embarrassment. For some preposterous reason, he’s interested in me, lack of social skills and all. I like that, I really like that because I can’t change who I am—not for the lack of trying, obviously.

  “So what now?” I ask looking at our surroundings. We’ve driven all the way here for no use. But it seems like such a waste to let go of all the beauty. It would be out of place to suggest that we stay here, especially when the person we’d come to visit was more or less honky-tonking God knows where.

  Cole studies my face for a while. It’s like he’s questioning himself but then seconds later a half-smile lights up his face and it seems like he’s reached a decision. He drives us to a nearby restaurant that is right in front of the beach I’d ogled.

  Is this a date? I start hyperventilating at the idea. A date with Cole. An opportunity where I could totally and utterly embarrass myself. I need time to adjust to how things have changed between us. I need to commit Cosmopolitan to memory, darn it.

  “Calm down, we’re just eating. I wouldn’t let our first date be this . . . unplanned,” he decides after pausing, wrinkling his nose. I sink down into my seat as we park. There he is again, giving me heart attacks with simple words.

  “Sorry,” I mutter feeling embarrassed.

  We make our way into a pleasant diner. It’s more or less like Rusty’s except cleaner. There aren’t a lot of people around since it’s the middle of the day but a steady service continues from behind the counter. We take our seats at a private booth, my stomach somersaulting throughout the process. For something that isn’t a date, this seems extremely date-like.

  I look out the window, which gives a clear view of the ocean. Attempting to calm myself down by watching the waves, I don’t realize it when Cole’s fingers come to rest on top of mine on the table. I jump in surprise but his hand is firm. My breathing and heartbeat both become erratic as I take in the expression on his face.

  “You don’t mind, do you?” He seems nervous. I remember him acting like this when he gave me the dress. It looks like the two people who can bring out this side of him are his grandmother and me. I don’t like it when he thinks twice about what he does or says around me. It’s sweet, God it’s sweet, but it’s also not him.

  “I-I . . . don’t like it when you have to ask.”

  He seems surprised by my answer and if you concentrate enough, also a bit flustered. My face reddens immediately following my boldness but oh well, I’m on a roll so might as well continue.

  “You shouldn’t change, not for me.”

  “So if I do this,” he quickly leans forward and kisses me on the cheek, making my eyes bulge out of their sockets and causing fireworks to erupt inside of me, “without asking, you won’t mind?” He gives me a cheeky grin and I all but disintegrate. My hand touches the spot on my cheek where his lips were mere seconds ago and all I can think about is how I want more of it. I stutter some incoherent response and he just laughs. Douchebag.

  An elderly waitress comes to take our order before I get to answer him. I order a chicken salad and Cole gets his usual cheeseburger. He goes ahead and orders a strawberry milkshake for me even though I just ask for water. Secretly, I’m jumping for joy since I really do love a strawberry milkshake.

  We eat in silence but I’m distracted by how Cole’s constantly rubbing circles over the back of my hand. I catch him looking at me once or twice when I am stuffing my face with lettuce, appealing I know. That’s how the lunch goes—filled with sneaking glances and coy smiles. It is different but in the best kind of way.

  ***

  Now we’re at the beach and Cole’s gone to bring some blankets from the trunk of his car. The sun’s hanging low in the sky, letting me know that it’s time to check in with my people. I take out my phone and send quick texts to Travis and the girls letting them know that my body isn’t six feet under.

  “How long before you have to get home?” Cole asks, spreading the blankets on the sand. Thank God there are two of them, while I’m all for cuddling, the idea of being so near Cole has me ready for another coronary.

  “My curfew’s at ten but I should go back earlier. Mom and Dad aren’t home but Travis might ask questions.”

  He nods, as if understanding why my brother might be an i
ssue. I really need to know what it is that’s going on between these two. For now, however, I concentrate on his sitting form and how he pats the space next to him, motioning for me to sit down. I sit, leaving plenty of space between us. Drawing my knees up to my chest, I hug them so that my hands are kept busy. If I were to let them free, they’d most probably end up in Cole’s hair. I’ve resisted the urge to run my fingers through the thick silky mess for so long but now that we are on the verge of becoming something more, the limitations and boundaries I set are starting to become hazy.

  “Sorry about making you come all the way here. If I’d known that she’d be pulling a stunt like this . . .” He shakes his head but I know now that he’s starting to see how hilarious the entire situation is.

  “That’s okay. I’m used to dealing with crazy Stone family members. It’s my specialty now.” I grin, lightly bumping my shoulder with his. Turns out I’ll take any excuse necessary to touch this boy, wonderful.

  “That reminds me, I’m sorry Tessie,” he says a little gruffly, his voice thick.

  I think about what he could possibly be apologizing for. Hard as I try, I don’t really come up with something that could make him look so forlorn. He’s been so perfect, caring and attentive to me, so I couldn’t really fault anything.

  “What for?”

  “Everything. Take this as a combined apology for fourteen years of making your life miserable.”

  I’m absolutely stunned and taken aback. He’s bringing our past up now? After ignoring it altogether for so long, he’s chosen one of the most perfect days of my life to remind me of how things were between us. All of a sudden, my walls go up. I try to convince myself that he means no harm but as a slideshow of our time through the years plays in my head I have so many reasons to run away screaming. Breathe, Tessa, he’s not that guy anymore and you haven’t had to go to the emergency room in a while, which is always a good sign.

  “I was a stupid kid,” he continues, ignoring the panic attack I’m currently having. “You were the prettiest girl I’d ever seen and I got your attention the only way I knew.”

  “By shoving me into a ditch full of mud?” I ask dryly, interrupting his monologue. I’d worn my favorite blue dress that day and my mother had woken me up early so that she could braid my hair with ribbons in it. It was the first day of kindergarten and also the first of many times that Cole would humiliate me.

  I watch his face as he winces and messes up his hair. “Yeah, I could’ve gone about that better. I wanted to be your friend but the other kids, they would’ve . . .”

  “Made fun of you for hanging around a girl?” I remember the unruly kids he used to be friends with in elementary school. They’d been right with him every step of the way but now that I think about it, they themselves never bullied me. I shudder thinking about how much worse those other kids would have been, having seen what they could do in the hallways many times.

  “Actually they would’ve teased you for being friends with the kid whose mom was dead. Later I realized that kindergartners aren’t that cruel. Like I said, I was a stupid kid.”

  My heart aches for him after this revelation. I can picture it so clearly. Cole, the broken little boy filled with insecurities. It takes a second for me to forgive him for everything he’d ever done. Impulsively I wrap my arms around his waist and bury my face in his neck, comforting that little kid.

  “What about when we grew up? Why did you do it then?” I ask softly as I pull away. I couldn’t bear to know that he’d been just like the rest of them, that he let my weight dictate how he saw me. “Was it . . . was it my weight?”

  His eyes are a stormy dark blue when I look at him. His jaw clenches, nostrils flaring—he is angry at me and I can’t think why.

  “Is that what you think of me? I would never . . .” He stops himself before groaning and tugging at his hair. I’m half afraid he’ll pull it all out with the way he’s going at it. He hides his face behind his palms and I hear some distinct curse words.

  “I deserved that. You should think the worst about me so I’m not going to complain.” He twists his body so that he’s facing me, sitting Indian-style. I don’t freak out until he’s cupping my cheek and rubbing his thumb across it.

  “You’ve always been the most stunning girl I’ve ever seen. I don’t care about your weight, Tessie, never have, never will. You could weigh a hundred pounds or three hundred pounds, it doesn’t matter. You’ll always be my shortcake. The girl who’s gorgeous but doesn’t have a clue about it. The girl who’s so forgiving and kind, funny and sarcastic as hell.”

  How exactly do you breathe? I remember reading something about lungs and oxygen but I swear I can’t link either of the two together right now.

  “You’re not afraid to talk back to me, you treat me like the idiot I am and I . . . I was scared. Having those kinds of feelings at eleven wasn’t normal. Before, I wanted to only be your friend but I didn’t know how to do that. When I started feeling more, you only saw Jay. I was jealous as hell so I took it out on you. I’m sorry.”

  Huh, would you look at that. I should remember to give Beth a gift card for her favorite music store or something. She’d figured it all out eons before me.

  “Cole, I-I . . .”

  His thumb brushes my bottom lip and I promise you could’ve heard how loud my heart is beating.

  “Don’t. I don’t expect you to suddenly feel how I do. I’d be crazy to think that after everything I’ve done, you still want something to do with me. I took a shot by coming back, but it’s the best decision I’ve ever made. Give me a second chance, Tessie, and I promise I’ll do it right this time.”

  How do you tell a guy who’s fighting so hard for you that he’s already won your heart? The dreaded four-letter word makes an appearance but I shove it in a corner. Now is not the time, he doesn’t need to find out that I’m a bigger freak than everyone takes me to be. We’re taking it slow so if he wants to win my heart than that he shall do. I really could use the special treatment.

  “Okay,” I whisper, not really knowing what else to say. However, his reaction is like he’s been given the map to the Holy Grail. From looking absolutely crestfallen he goes straight to elated, his eyes sparkling with the sun’s rays, making the impact so much stronger.

  “Did you just say okay? Will you go out with me?”

  “Yes, Cole. Yes, I’ll go out with you.” In all honesty, I want more—I want a lot more.

  Chapter Eighteen: “You’re Not Sexting Stone, Are You?”

  The next morning all I see around me are baby unicorns and fluorescent rainbows. A goofy smile has been plastered to my face since yesterday and all I can concentrate on is reliving the experience. Cole’s coming to pick me up in about two hours and we’re going to go lasso Nana Stone right back to the seniors’ home. We have a plan, one involving tempting her with double chocolate fudge cake if she protests. I’m trying to convince myself that the reason I’m up at seven in the morning during a long weekend is because I really want to see Nana Stone, but seriously, who am I kidding?

  I want to look exceptionally nice. The last thing I want is to come across as someone from the set of The Walking Dead when Cole arrives so I made the decision last night. I’d showered and straightened my hair before going to bed. The blond locks fall in soft waves right to my lower back and if I do say so myself, when I twirl they bounce like they belong in a Pantene commercial.

  For my outfit, I don’t know if I should try hard. I don’t want him to think I want to change myself for him. Of course I could wear my short skirt and a tight tank top but who am I kidding? Fatty Tessie would never be able to wear clothes like that and so wouldn’t I. It’s important that I try to maintain a sense of self while I do whatever it is that we’re going to do. Yes, that’s it, Tessa, be a strong, independent woman and don’t let a boy get to your head.

  Well, considering how I’m sacrificing precious hours’ worth of peaceful sleep over him, I’d say he’s already gotten inside my he
ad and thrown a house party while he’s there. Fudge this; I’ll just wear the first thing I grab from my closet.

  I’m contemplating the merits of such a decision when the doorbell rings and I jump. It’s early; it is way too early for Cole to show up. He cannot ambush me while I’m still in my pajamas. I rush to my window from where I can get a pretty good view of whoever’s outside. It can’t be Cole, now that I think about it. He has his own key, much to my chagrin, and he rubs the fact in my face every time he can.

  I pop my head out the window just in time to see a figure sit down on my front porch. I know who it is almost immediately and when the realization hits, I rush downstairs without pausing once to take a breath. Throwing the door open, I find a very tired-looking Beth. Her appearance takes me aback. It’s not like the three of us haven’t seen each other at our absolute worst; we’ve had our fair share of sleepovers but this is something else entirely. She looks like she’s just thrown on clothes in a hurry, a pair of ratty old jeans with a mismatched T-shirt. Though it’s not the clothes that worry me, it’s her bloodshot eyes. She looks like she hasn’t slept in days and it doesn’t help that she’s swaying on her feet. Her hair’s a mess, like she’s been running her fingers through it constantly and if you concentrate hard enough you’ll see the tear tracks she’s been trying too hard to cover.

  “What happened?”

  I know, though. I know the answer even before she says it and it makes me feel both sad and ridiculously furious at the same time.

  “Marie,” she says simply and it’s all she needs to say. I let her into the house and she heads into the kitchen, bracing herself against the counter. It’s been a while since things have gotten this bad. Marie hasn’t done anything too drastic in a while but seeing Beth like this makes me forget all that. It’s not fair; it’s not. I know I didn’t exactly win the lottery when it came to parents but she doesn’t deserve the hand she’s been dealt.

  “Do you want something to eat? I could make you coffee and I’m pretty sure we have some leftover lasagna in the fridge.”