Bad Intentions (5 page)

The mirror is foggy as I grab a toothbrush from my bathroom caddy and apply an ample amount of paste. As I brush, I think about Ryle. How could my mind not go there? He’s different. Quiet. Standoffish. He’s the definition of bad. I could see badassness seeping from his pores. My newly found rebellion was drawing me toward him. I couldn’t fight it even if I wanted to.

I’m not one to believe in that insta-love jargon, but I do believe in lust. My education on that subject was pretty much learned while watching romance movies I’d snuck into the house. Let’s face it— my life was negative in the lust department prior to my move. What I had with Mark was as non-sexual as a relationship could get. He was my best friend. Sometimes we kissed, and by sometimes, I mean very rarely. Maybe on special occasions like birthdays, Valentine’s Day and Christmas. He was safe, which is exactly what I needed at the time when my life revolved around gymnastics. He understood my dedication and never gave me any flack for putting him on the back burner. Because of that, we worked. Okay, let’s just throw this out there. Dating Mark was basically like dating my cousin.

This move to college is about me putting my own wants first, and I want a heart pounding, exotic, college experience. I actually want to get my heart broken, because it’s something I’ve never experienced, and maybe I’ll break a few hearts in the process too. I want to dance on tabletops and hear the sounds of men whistling and encouraging me to move my hips. I want to stay up all night and go to class with yesterday’s makeup still on. I know my to-do list may sound immature or trivial to some, but when you’ve never ventured on the dangerous side of life, you start to wonder about everything you’re missing.

Bottom line—
I don’t want to become a crazy cat lady.

A soft knock on the door startles me. “You done in there?”

Rinsing my mouth, I spit and then open the door behind me. “I just need to throw on some clothes and a little make-up.”

Zoe puckers her lips together, and I wonder if she’s going to quack. “’Kay. What are you wearing?”

“I don’t know.” I want to look sexy though. That’s a given. I enlist Zoe’s help. “I’m not sure. I tossed everything I owned in the garbage when I left home. Stopped at a mall and bought everything new.”

“You’re
not
kidding are you?”

I smirk. “Nope.”

“You amaze me every time your mouth opens. What was wrong with your old clothes?” she probes.

“I was the preacher’s daughter,” I say out loud, divulging a little bit of myself. “Let’s say those clothes wouldn’t exactly attract any men tonight.” Unzipping my suitcase, I hold my hand out and gesture to it. “Have at it.”

Giving Zoe free rein to pick out my outfit is a little frightening, considering I don’t even know if she has style. Oh well. She’s here, and I’m clueless, so...

“Alright,” she says while rummaging through my belongings. “I think these super-freaking-short daisy dukes will work paired along with this cheetah-print top. Shoes?”

“In the other bag,” I tell her.

“How about these black strappy ones?”

I shrug. “Sure.”

“How are you doing your hair?”

“I figured it’s too hot to blow dry. I’ll probably just let it dry naturally, so it’s wavy.” I hope she approves.

“Sounds good. I’m wearing that maxi dress hanging on the door.”

I glance to my left. It’s cute. Thank God she has good taste. I assumed that because she’s a ball player, she’d be sporting something with Braxton University written on it. Again, I’m wrong. I guess that’s what I get for judging a book by its cover.

“You know that cheetah print is like the staple of a slut’s wardrobe don’t you?”

I nod.

“Let me piece this together. You’re the preacher’s daughter, and you’re choosing to dress like a little tramp? Oh. Em. Gee,” she squeals without catching a breath. “You want to be a party girl. I feel ya. I’d want to live a little too.” She gets it, finally. “That’s why you’re digging Ryle.”

“I just want to have fun. I’ve been sheltered my entire life. This is a new start for me. And I’m not digging him
per se.
I think he’s bad news, but I’d be lying if I said that didn’t attract me.” I lay it on the line and feel slightly ashamed of myself.

“Then get your butt dressed, and let me show you how we have fun in Biloxi!”

“She was freaking gorgeous.” Tank said to Ryle as the pair made their way through a set of double doors and down a staircase leading to the parking lot.

Making their way back to Tank’s car, Ryle didn’t give his friend’s remark any undue importance, but it didn’t stop him from thinking about his comment.
Of course she was gorgeous
, he thought, succumbing to his basic nature. After all, he was in possession of a set of twig and berries dangling between his legs. Still, he kept his lips sealed as his feet met the pavement under his soles. With each stride, he tried harder to forget the girl who’d just squeezed her way into their tight-knit circle of friends.

“Don’t you think so?” Tank was about as relentless as a possum in a pile of garbage.

“Sure. She’s okay.” Ryle shrugged. “Maybe an eight. If she did something with that rat’s nest,” he said, shoving a finger at his head. Hoping Tank didn’t realize he was lying through his teeth, Ryle jumped into the passenger seat of his friend’s red sports car and tried to change the subject. “You bringing anyone to the party tonight?

He knew his friend’s expressions well from having spent the summer together during long, grueling baseball practices. The one he wore now had pegged Ryle as an idiot.

“Ugh, duh. Adaley. Didn’t you just hear me tell her that?” Ryle felt the muscles in his jaw tighten about the same time that he saw Tank notice. “No way, man. You don’t get her. Come on, I just said she was my date.”

Ryle gritted his teeth as Tank pressed on the accelerator and pulled out onto the tree-lined street.

As a lightweight feather drops, it waves in the air, gently and ever so softly floating to the ground. Likewise, as the topic was dropped, it gently and ever so softly registered with Tank, that Adaley Knight was off limits.

Twenty minutes later, we’re both dressed and sitting on the curb outside of our dorm. As I look around, I’m amazed to see the campus come to life right before my eyes. Biloxi must have one hell of a nightlife.

“Tank said they’d be here in a few minutes.”

“They?”

Zoe throws her head back, laughing. “Tank and your crush.” She nudges my shoulder with hers. The mention of Ryle causes the butterflies in my stomach to awaken. The fluttering both excites me and makes me want to hurl.

“That’s his car, come on.” She stands and takes my hand in hers to pull me up.

Before the vehicle comes to a halt, the passenger side window rolls down. I see the profile of a male. It’s dark against the moonlight, but I see it’s Ryle as he leans forward a bit and his sapphire eyes catch mine.

“I love your outfit. Did it come with a pole?” There isn’t a hint of a grin on his chiseled face. He’s dead serious, and it’s disrespectful. I thought I caught a glimpse of his rudeness before, but this version of himself is much more offensive.

I place my hand on the window seal of the car, not bothering to acknowledge him. Leaning forward, I try to sound seductive. “Hey Tank, I’m yours tonight, right?” I flutter my heavy lashes in his direction. I can feel Ryle’s breath blowing against my cheek as he exhales. It would be a lie if I said I wasn’t attracted to him, but truthfully, it’s a little early in this new endeavor to put up with his shit.

“You’re calling me Tank now huh? I like it! Get in little kitten.”

“Kitten?” I question.

“Your shirt. The cheetah print. I likey.”

I giggle. “You
likey
everything.”

“Everything about you.” Tank says, causing a second riot of butterflies to swarm in my gut.
Swoon.
He’s so sweet, and he isn’t bad on the eyes either. That is, if you can look past the ginger of his hair. I’m tempted to ask him if the drapes match downstairs, but I refrain, knowing that no one thought I’d been very humorous today.

“Ryle, get the hell out so we can get in!” I hear Zoe growl from behind me. He doesn’t budge.

“Quit being a tool, and let us in.” I whisper, before my mouth curves into a devious smile. He makes a dismissing gesture with his hand and then grabs the handle. I step back and allow him to open it.

“Finally. Damn, I was beginning to wonder who lit the fuse on your tampon.” Zoe’s comment makes me cackle out loud. At least one of us has good jokes.

The sound catches Ryle’s attention, and I don’t even care that he knows I’m laughing in his face. Serves him right for starting the night off with his unnecessary semantics.

Zoe and I climb into the backseat. It’s tight. Literally, I can’t even wiggle my feet. The room is sparse, but the car is nice as hell. I know it’s a sports car, I just don’t know what kind. “What do your parents do Zoe?” My nosiness gets the best of me, and I have to know how Tank can afford a car like this.

“Our dad’s a dentist. He owns his own practice, and he likes fast cars.”

Dying.

I knew it. Tank’s teeth are gorgeous. I tilt my head and look at Zoe. Hers are equally dashing.

“Quit checking me out, Adaley. I know I look good tonight.” She winks playfully while bouncing her shoulders up and down like she’s all that and a bag of chips.

The engine roars to life as we speed off squealing tires. The motion forces me back into the leather seat. I let out a breath.

Ryle’s low, gravelly voice fills the air around us. “What’s tonight’s theme?”

“Flashlight party. I have some glow-in-the-dark paint, too. I figured the ladies wouldn’t want to walk around with flashlights all night,” Tank answers, keeping his eyes on the road ahead.

I lean across the seat and whisper, “Zoe?” Her eyes find mine. “What’s a flashlight party?”

Amusement crosses her face. “You really were sheltered.”

I shoot her an evil glare.

“Don’t get your panties in a wad. It’s a party where the only lights permitted are flashlights. We can get by with the glow-in-the-dark paint because we’re cute. But the guys normally don’t wear any.”

“So we’re going to paint ourselves?” I hope my expression doesn’t look as confused as I feel.

“Not entirely. When we get there, we’ll rub some up and down our arms. My dress is too long, but you can put some on your thighs if you want.” Her smile turns into a laugh and then she leans closer to me and speaks in a hushed tone, “I got you, and trust me—Tank won’t let anything happen tonight that you don’t want to happen.”

Zoe’s reassurance calms me. As experienced as I want everyone to think I am, it’s nice that someone knows the truth about my past, even if it’s only a little snippet. At least I can count on her and Tank to make sure I don’t get drugged tonight.

Drunk, yes. Drugged…ugh—hopefully not in my lifetime.

I glance out the window and try to get a lay of the land, but I can’t see anything. Nothing but greenery drenched in shadow passes by my window as we speed down the road. “Where’s this place at?”

“The Shack?” Tank asks, his voice smooth.

“Uh, sure. Is that the place we’re going to?”

“Yup.” His answer is short. “It’s not too much farther.”