Bad Intentions (16 page)

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Authors: Nacole Stayton

Tags: #Fiction

BOOK: Bad Intentions
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“Not girls who make it a habit of hugging the john.”

I swallow, pushing down a hundred things that I want to say, including an excuse as to why I’m always wasted. I want to tell him that this isn’t the real me. I want to say that the real Adaley was broken by a fall that changed her entire life.

“Come on. Wash your face off, and I’ll drive you home.” He stands up first, and then leans forward and puts a hand under each of my arms. Lifting me up, he places me on top of the counter. My feet dangle off the front, my toes gently rubbing the pants he’s wearing. I refrain from turning to look into the mirror. I know I look pathetic. I can feel it, so I don’t need to see the image.

I close my eyes and, scarcely aware of my own voice, I blurt out, “Please don’t hate me.” I repeat the words again before he places his palm on the side of my cheek. I lean into his embrace. If this is all I can get tonight, I want to savor his touch. I wish he’d just open his door—even just a crack—and let me in.

“Please don’t make me like you, Adaley Knight.” Words, tight with emotion, spill from his lips. His request bleeds into my pores and makes my heart ache. Lifting my chin up, he searches my eyes and then starts to pull away his hand. I stop him by covering his fingers with mine.

Dark tendrils of hair curl along his forehead. I didn’t notice it before, but as I look at his face, I see a faint scar along his jawline and another through his eyebrow. He tries to turn away from me, to hide the scars he knows I’ve noticed. It’s me who reaches out now and catches his face in my hands. He doesn’t have to hide from me. “You’re far more beautiful than those scars.”

As if my words strike a chord within him, he slowly tilts his face up. Our noses brush ever so gently. Nervousness takes shelter in the pit of my stomach. Not because I think he’s going to lean forward and kiss me, but because I know that he’s not. For whatever reason, I get the impression that his brooding exterior isn’t a façade. I think that he’s been wounded by life too many times to count, and as a coping mechanism, he pushes people away.

I get it, because I’ve been there too.

Life ate me whole and spit out the remains. Those pieces will never fit back together like they used to.

A loud thud breaks our connection. The repeated pounding on the door is infuriating. “Come on, I gotta piss!” Someone shouts on the other side of the wooden slab.

I want to beg him not to open it.

I want to push his face against mine and force this desperately anticipated moment to happen.

Instead, I push his chest so that he takes a step backward, and I can hop off the counter. My feet are as unsteady as the heart that hammers in my chest. I reach out and rotate the bronze doorknob, welcoming in the outside world, and shattering our moment.

“Finally. Move,” a man pushes his way into the bathroom.

My ears are greeted with loud music. I had almost forgotten where we were. I take a step forward into a living room crowded with enough people to panic the fire marshal, when a hand catches mine. I don’t have to glance over my shoulder to see whose hand it is. Still, I do.

Ryle’s glare is locked on our intertwined fingers.

I’m glad for the semi-darkness in the hallway that hides the flush on my cheeks. “Thanks for helping me,” I shyly mumble under my breath.

“Thank you for letting me.”

I reluctantly pull my hand from his and walk away with a smile lingering on my lips.

I stay perched on a bar stool in the corner of the room for the rest of the party. People pass me by, their eyes glossed over. Almost always, they look through me like I’m the loner of the party. Little do they know, I feel like the luckiest person here. Because, if even just for a minute, I feel like Ryle and I shared something.

Like a vampire luring me into a dark corner by whispering promises that his fangs won’t ever pierce my skin, I allow myself to get swept away. I want to believe that there is more than meets the eye where Ryle’s concerned. At first he was just a bad boy that caught my attention—someone to lose control with. But now, he’s… more. I’m intrigued by his story—not the one Tank told me—but the one I see in his dark eyes.

I haven’t fallen totally yet, but I can feel myself stumbling, and I know when I land it’s going to be hard and ungraceful. I just hope that Ryle will be there to catch me.

He had wanted to kiss Adaley so bad. She’d been only inches away from his lips, but he hadn’t been able to muster up the strength to do it. He knew that once he tasted her, there’d be no going back. Once his tongue gently swept alongside hers, he would lose it. The pent up need that flowed through Ryle’s veins had become unbearable, as his body physically began to ache. In a second, he knew that he could have had her—taken her any way he wanted, right there in that small bathroom. She would have screamed his name, and he would have rocked her world.

But, as usual, he was able to show a great amount of restraint where she was concerned. Trouble was, Ryle didn’t know how long he could keep her at bay. Or how long he wanted to try.

 

 

 

“W
ake up, Sunshine.” I hear Zoe’s voice slice through my dream, awakening me at what I assume is a much too early hour. She’s perkier than usual.

Odd.

“Come on Adaley, get up.” I don’t budge as she tries to shake my body out of the cocoon of my blanket.

“Weekend, please don’t leave yet,” I call out, trying to sound pitiful. When I don’t hear a reply, I uncover my head and peek out from underneath the covers, showcasing an array of unruly hair on top of my skull. “Why are you so happy?”

I see her standing in the middle of the dorm with her hand on her hip. “Act like you’ve never seen me happy before.”

“Something is definitely going on. Spill,” I sit upright in my bed, tucking the covers over my body in the process.

“Girl, we’re legit going to be late to class if you don’t get a move on.”

“Girl,” I mock her. “I’m going to be late regardless. Look at this mess,” I direct her attention to the top of my head with my pointer finger. “Just chill. Now why do you have an extra little pep in your step this morning?” I’m pretty sure that I already know the answer, but I ask anyway.

Zoe squeals like a pig. “We did it!”

What?
That is so not the answer I was expecting. Did I know that they hung out all weekend, yes. But I never saw her giving it up so soon.

I wait a few extra seconds before repeating myself, allowing time for her news to digest. “What? You and who? You actually
did
the deed?”

She scoffs like the idea of a college girl being a virgin is nuts. “Me and Kaiser. Duh, who else would I have laid? He was…amazing. It was…amazing. Oh my god you should have felt—.”

Put me out of my misery.

“Argh. I do not need to hear the intimate details, lady. Are you okay? Was he…a gentlemen?” I dig for details that won’t make me blush. Call me a square.

“Yes! He was. It was like a fairytale. He kissed me the entire time and made me feel so special.”

I want to be adored.

I want a fairytale of my own. But, let’s face it. All I have is a dude who doesn’t know what he wants. I assume this because he hasn’t tried to contact me since he dropped me off at my dorm in the wee hours Saturday morning. It’s Monday people, and I haven’t heard from him. Shouldn’t I have? I mean, if the connection that I thought we both felt was real, I figure I should have heard from him by now.

As I’m daydreaming, I feel the bed dip down. The scent of Zoe’s perfume fills my senses and takes my mind elsewhere. To a field filled with sunflowers. As I walk through the field, my toes dig into the dirt under my feet as my fingertips feather over the flowers. And there, in the middle of the field lies Ryle on a blanket holding his d…

The bubble pops and my fantasy is ripped away from me when Zoe says, “Ta-da.”

She’s holding a mirror in front of me. My hair is nicely braided toward the side. It looks like I watched a handful of YouTube tutorials. “What are you, a ninja?”

Like a southern belle, she curtseys in front of me. I don’t have words for her strange behavior, so I just go with it. Tossing aside my blanket, I stand up and prepare to get ready for the day. My hand finds the tarnished knob on my dresser, and I pull. Grabbing a fresh pair of panties, I make my way to the bathroom.

Before I open the door to leave the facilities, I hear the voice of a female other than Zoe. Who is in our room? I swing the door open and come face to face with a petite stranger. The first thing I notice is her hair. It’s naturally dark and has bright blonde and purple stripes framing her face. “Uh. Hi.”

“Hi! You must be Adaley. I’m Jane!”

Wow, she’s an energized little specimen. “It’s nice to meet you, Jane. Do you mind telling me what you’re doing here?”

Her cheeks instantly redden. “I’m here with Taylor.”

I glance around the room. It’s empty.

“Do you know where he and Zoe are?”

She points backwards to the door. Okay. Now this is getting strange. I walk over and open our dorm door. Before I can get out any words, my arm is jerked, and I’m being pulled outside. “What—.”

“Shh…” Tank points to the door. He turns to Zoe. “Please, Sis. If ever I needed you, the moment is now. I’m begging here.”

“No way. I’m not lying for you.” Zoe shakes her head.

“Can someone fill me in?” I ask, confused.

“My dear brother here has been sleeping with purple locks.”

I bite my lip to stifle a laugh. “And it’s a secret?”

“Well…he’s also been sleeping with Paul.”

My mouth snaps shut, stunned by the news. Did I hear her right? Tank is bisexual? I shake my head in disbelief. He can’t be. I want to slide back into my room and clean my ears out.

Firm hands grip my shoulders, bringing me out of my shocked state. “I know what you’re wondering. I promise to fill you in on my,” he pauses. “Sexual preferences, but right now, I need to get back to my dorm. Paul’s waiting, and he’s probably furious for finding me in bed with Jane. I can’t even. You should have seen the look on his face.”

His truth settles in my gut. Not only did I come here to live my dreams of becoming a wild child, but I’ve also been making friends with… I don’t even know what to call him. My parents would be mortified. I’ve always been taught that sort of behavior is a sin. The church engrained this moral code into my brain. But he’s also…Tank. He’s a good person and a good friend. I don’t think
my
God would want me casting judgment, regardless of how I was brought up.

My brows stay raised in shock. “You and Paul… have sex?”

“Adaley, focus.” He snaps in my face.

“I’m focusing on my best guy friend having a… I need a minute to process this freaking information.”

“Umm. Ew. First off, I’m not the bitch.”

“Dude this convo is on another level,” I mutter in a nervous half-laugh, my brain still trying to accept the ambush of news I just received.

“Zoe,” he pleads. “Just keep Jane distracted. Hell, take her to class. Yes,” he says as a light bulb goes off. “Just go to class. That will keep her out of my hair all afternoon and give me a chance to patch things up with Paul. If he’s even still there.” A frown spreads across his face. It makes my chest hurt.

“I’ll hang out with her. I don’t feel like going to class today anyway.” It’s amazing what a week of college will do to a girl. “I’ll take to her to the gym with me.”

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