The Bad Boy's Palything: A Dark High School Bully Romance

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The Bad Boy's Palything: A Dark High School Bully Romance Page 25

by Lannah Smith


  God, God, why didn't my father take my emotions too when he took away everything I loved?

  "We're here." I'd been so caught up in my thoughts that I didn't even noticed we'd arrive to... wherever we are. Because all I could see were snow and trees around us.

  "Where exactly are we?" I asked, turning my head to Christopher.

  My lips parted when I saw how he was looking at me.

  Again.

  Again his gaze was burning, scorching, traveling me top to toe and back again, making me feel funny.

  “What?” I mumbled irately, ignoring the whoosh in my belly.

  His face melted into a smile.

  And I felt that in my belly too.

  Then shaking his head, he slid out of the car and taking a deep breath, I mentally prepared myself for dinner with him.

  Chapter 35

  "You lying asshole."

  Christopher bit his bottom lip to stop himself from laughing. April whirled around, looking ready to give him hell. A fuckuva lot of it.

  "You said we were going to a restaurant."

  "This is a restaurant," he immediately said.

  Bristling with anger, April glanced around the room.

  "Why aren't there any customers?" she demanded. "And why is there only one table?"

  "This used to be a restaurant," he amended, holding back his laughter. "As you can see, it didn't fare well because customers can't exactly find this place, can they?"

  April looked like she was about to explode. "How could they? When this is also in the middle of fucking nowhere?"

  He couldn’t hold it back even if he tried his hardest. He burst out laughing.

  The restaurant was a small, beautiful house set high on the side of a nearby mountain, a twisting, windy road leading to it. It had so many windows one could see through it. Rustic in design, with rich woods and antique oddities, with personal and vintage elements, it was a place he knew April would admire, if she could get herself to calm down, that is.

  Christopher had driven them here. He was glad he was the one driving because he didn’t think he could keep his hands to himself. April, during the journey, didn’t speak to him and gazed out the window. Her eyes were working, he knew she was trying to come up with another plan to escape now that she learned there was an actual road underneath all the snow that his men had cleared up, but he wasn’t concerned. She’d only get lost. Her deplorable sense of direction was actually useful at times.

  April was still ranting as she paced in front of him. To get her to calm, he took her elbow, pulling her to him, trailing his hand down it until he caught hers. She didn’t fight this, mainly because a man had entered the room and amazingly, her expression turned from fury to mildly concerned.

  The young man who came in introduced himself as their server, Arthur, for the night.

  “It’s an honor to see you again, Mr. Lawrence,” he jovially said with a tiny bow. “Delighted, truly.”

  “So you also own this place?” April muttered irritably at him. “No wonder the business failed.”

  “I inherited this,” he corrected her.

  “Please,” Arthur said. “This way to your table.”

  Christopher saw April press her lips together tightly, like she was restraining herself from speaking and he grinned at her. Their table was next to the panel glass with a wonderful view of the river and of the sunset, painting the darkening sky a soft orange hue. He knew April was very much appreciating this when he heard her take a sharp breath.

  Then he felt her pull at his grip and he stopped with a sigh.

  Hell, but she loved being difficult.

  He half-turned to tell her what he thought of her stubbornness but she spoke before he could.

  "Are you aware that you're going to be a clear target sitting next to the window?" she muttered low at him.

  You.

  Not we.

  He noted this as well as the momentary panic that flashed across her face before it was gone.

  He glanced at the clear panel glass. "Nothing bad is going to happen tonight, honey."

  "You can't know that," she insisted, backing away from the table.

  She was getting visibly upset. And though their conversation was hushed, Arthur was starting to look concerned, sensing that something was wrong.

  "Calm down, April." Christopher moved closer to her, squeezing her fingers as he murmured. "The glass is tinted. We can see outside perfectly but no one can see inside."

  Hearing that calm her. But she was still looking tense, glancing out the window. Wanting to allay her fears and make this night perfect for them, he gestured for Arthur and whispered into his ear. Nodding, Arthur went to the back of the room before coming back with two men who moved the table to the middle of the dining area. Seeing this, April finally relaxed and he didn’t dare make fun of her for this. Her concern was legitimate. And it bothered him that she had gone through too much shit that a simple dinner at a restaurant would cause her panic.

  “You're not taking chances with me, are you?" April asked, pulling her hand from his grip.

  "Hush, honey." Christophe pulled a chair and made her seat. "Let’s just enjoy tonight."

  “Dinner will be served in a few moments.” Arthur did his little bow again before he left the two of them alone.

  April lifted a knife, studying its sharpness. "How many of your men will jump into the room if I try to stab you?"

  She was acting like she hadn’t almost had an anxiety attack moments ago and Christopher let her.

  “Well?”

  He shook his head. “My muscles are made of steel. You’ll only hurt yourself trying to stab me.”

  Regarding him with ill-concealed contempt, she told him, “One day, that arrogance of yours would be the death of you.”

  “And until then, I am going to enjoy my life to the fullest,” he said, leaning back to enjoy her anger.

  Before she could have the chance to snap his head off, Arthur returned to serve them their appetizers and refreshments. April gave him a little smile as thanks and Christopher watched with amusement when their server turned a little flustered before he left them once again.

  "Why are you smiling?" she asked Christopher, bringing the knife down to pick a breadstick up.

  "I'm dining with the most beautiful girl in the world," he answered. "Of course, I'd smile. I'm a lucky guy."

  She looked away. "You know your flattery will lead you nowhere."

  "But hard work can."

  She snorted. "What hard work? Jackman does all the hard work."

  "Are you saying I don't?"

  "I'm saying you should help," she said, pointing the breadstick at him. "It's your business too… whatever it is."

  "Real estate. I run the company now."

  Her brow lifted. "You do? Then pray tell me what you are doing here?"

  "On a vacation," he watched her break the breadstick into two and put a piece into her mouth. "Since I graduated university, I've been all work, no play. Everyone can attest to that."

  "Really?" She could no longer hide her curiosity now.

  He nodded. "That's why I'm away on a beautiful house on a cliff with a beautiful woman. I'm long overdue a vacation."

  Her upper lip curled. "I bet all you do is sign and push papers including responsibilities away."

  "You really don't think much of me, do you?"

  She shrugged.

  "I also run a few charitable institutions that need a new director," he said, wagging his eyebrows. "Care to fill that position?"

  She almost choked on her breadstick. Laughing, he pushed a glass of water her way and watched as she drank from it.

  "Are you kidding me?" she demanded. "Run a charity? Me?"

  He nodded. "It's not difficult if that's what you're worrying about. All you need to do is sign some papers."

  "Sign some papers, my ass. You think I don't know how charitable institutions work? And you know I'm not known for being charitable."

  "We'll re
medy that when we get home," he smiled at her.

  She hesitated. "You mean together?"

  "Together," he said firmly.

  From the expression on her face, it seemed that she didn’t like the word together. So when Arthur came back with their dinner, she immediately latched all her attention on him. And from the surprised pleasure that lit up her face, she was definitely going to enjoy tonight’s dinner course. Baked lobster tail with cheese garlic bread and soup on the side.

  April aimed another small smile at Arthur. And fuck if Arthur didn’t turn as bright as a fucking tomato.

  In a teasing tone, Christopher said, “Don’t ever use your best smile on him. The poor man might trip all over himself.”

  She breathed heavily. "Why don't you eat, Christopher? That way, you'll be too busy chewing to talk."

  He chuckled. He could only hope she’d never used her best smile on him just yet. He could just imagine how dumbstruck he’d be to the point that he’d be willing to do her bidding. Her little smiles that weren’t even aimed at him had already even affected him deeply.

  Then he did what she said, mostly because she had started eating herself. And because he enjoyed watching her eat with gusto.

  For the remainder of the meal, she tried to ignore him.

  Like he didn’t exist for her. Not across the table. Not anywhere.

  There was no conversation. No laughter. Nothing. Only the soft music that the mostly empty restaurant was playing for them.

  That might have sucked for him.

  If it weren’t for the fact that she was strongly aware and conscious of his every action, it would have.

  But, fuck it. He was sitting in a beautiful restaurant with the most beautiful woman in the world. He was sitting there with the company of the woman he wanted to be with the most. So he’d fucking take that over nothing.

  Their dessert came in. It was a small chocolate cake with a lit candle in the middle. Seeing that made Christopher remember what tonight was supposed to be about. That it was his birthday. That he had just turned 27. A year ago, he had celebrated his 26th birthday alone, in a hotel room, after two full days of work. But now, he wasn’t alone.

  April was here.

  She didn’t know it but she’d just given him the best gift he had ever received.

  “The wax is melting,” April warned, the first words she had uttered for almost an hour. “Blow the candle or throw it away. I don’t care. Just do something.”

  His shoulders shook with laughter as he blew the flame. When he did, he looked at her over the smoke that billowed from the wick. She was staring at the cake, her face an empty mask.

  “Happy birthday to me,” he murmured.

  For a second, a heartbreakingly sad smile flitted across her lips, a smile Christopher was certain she didn’t realize making.

  “Happy birthday, Christopher,” she whispered.

  Chapter 36

  I had a hard time sleeping that night.

  Sitting up on the bed with my back on the headboard, I read a book under the light of the lamp to get myself to tire myself. I had always been an early riser and sleeper but that night, I just couldn’t fall asleep. Cow was already fast asleep next to me. Why couldn’t I?

  Thinking back to the dinner I had with Christopher, I thought I’d be uncomfortable or tensed throughout the meal. But he wasn’t being too annoying and intrusive. He didn’t make it all about him. And instead of making me spoil him, it was like he was trying to spoil me instead. He knew I liked lobster. And it made my damn heart flutter because even though it was his birthday, he was still thinking about me.

  Those damn feelings were showing up again.

  Alec should have never told me about Christopher’s insomnia.

  I never should have sneaked into the study at all.

  Now I felt like crap. Now I felt like worrying over Christopher because I didn’t get to ask how severe his sleep disorder was.

  And he didn’t even make a pass on me all night.

  That thought just came out of nowhere, startling me, and I went still. I stared at the wall, my eyes wide, unblinking. I stayed transfixed, trying to figure it out but my mind just drew a blank.

  Christopher didn’t even try to kiss me. He kept a respectable distance and acted like a complete gentleman all night. Even when he was holding my wrist. And, if I remember correctly, even when he was taking my coat for me, he didn’t try to do anything untoward.

  Sure he kept staring my way, making me feel bothered, robbing me of my opportunity to lay on him about the cameras around the house that Alec had just freaking informed of me about. His eyes seldom left me, and they smoldered with a flame of passion that he was attempting to hold at bay.

  But was I truly disappointed?

  Blinking furiously, I closed the book with a snap with a degree of annoyance.

  I shouldn’t be. Why the hell would I be disappointed if Christopher didn’t make a move on me or kiss me? The idea was both absurd and shameful. Kissing him was off-limits. Staying in the same room was too. Even thinking about him should be off-limits but damn if my head wouldn’t be filled with thoughts of that arrogant ass.

  Caught up in thinking, I almost didn’t notice the door open. I stiffened when more light poured into the room. Christopher came in, again with his laptop tucked under his arm. He met my gaze as he stepped into the room. I gave him the fiercest scowl I could muster.

  Pausing, he said, "You're awake."

  "And you're here," I muttered acidly. "Again."

  Chuckling, Christopher closed the door behind him.

  "You're on the wrong side of the door," I pointed out.

  "Do you want me to read you a bedtime story so you could sleep?"

  "You should leave. I'm not going to have nightmares tonight."

  “I know.”

  I blinked.

  “You know?”

  He nodded as he made his way to the table. He pulled out a chair and took a seat. “You haven’t since I gave you the kitten.”

  “And you’re still here?” I could not help but get angry. He’d made me believe I did because there was always that lemon drink on my bedside table when I wake up in the morning. “Weren’t you going to stop watching over me if I stop having nightmares?”

  “Did I say that?” he asked with a confused look.

  “Not exactly, but—.”

  “Relax, April,” he interrupted, grinning. “I’ll leave by midnight. Since it’s technically still my birthday, my last birthday wish is to end this day in your company, even if I have some work to do.”

  My eyes narrowed in suspicion. He wasn’t going to try and do something funny, was he?

  Witnessing the expression on my face, he chuckled. “But if you want to do something else than I can accommodate you.”

  The implication wasn’t lost on me.

  “Just do your work, Christopher,” I grumbled.

  Opening his laptop, I watched him slip on his glasses. Then he truly began to work, much to my surprise and frustratingly, disappointment.

  The time said 10:56 in the evening.

  And I was finally feeling a little drowsy.

  Promising myself that I was only going to lie down and not sleep, I put the book on the bedside table and slid deeper into the covers. Christopher wasn't bothering me anymore, his entire focus was on the laptop on his lap.

  Staring at him for a few minutes, I knew I could no longer hold to wakefulness.

  "Why are you wearing glasses?" I asked with a yawn.

  I watched his mouth curve. "I need them to read, April."

  Groggily, I paused to think about it. "How long have you been wearing them?"

  He glanced at me and said in a voice like he was suppressing laughter, "Since college. That's when I did any actual schoolwork and realized my eyesight's messed up."

  "Oh," I yawned again.

  "Go to sleep, honey," he told me in a gentle voice.

  “Okay,” I breathed. “Promise me you’ll try to s
leep too alright?”

 

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