I fold my arms. “I haven’t thought that far ahead.”
“Cass, Cass, Cass,” he says, shaking his head. He adjusts his belt, and I can’t help but watch as he does it. For a fleeting moment, his t-shirt comes above his jeans, and I see the beginnings of his trimmed buzz of pubic hair.
I snap my eyes away, breathing a little quicker. God, when is this bus going to come?
“You think you’ve got it all figured out. Life isn’t like that.”
“How would you know what life is like?” I say, glaring into his eyes. I notice, then, that embedded in his hazel irises seem to be bits of silver pigmentation. It’s like his eyes are shining. He doesn’t even blink that much, he just meets my glare with a slightly-amused look.
“Trust me, I know much more about life than you do. You spend all your time with your nose in textbooks, never once asking if what they are teaching you is accurate, or why it is accurate. You memorize the tests, rote learn, regurgitate paragraphs from books you read the night before. So what if you did well in school? How’s it going to prepare you for real life? I mean, have you ever even had a job?”
“Yes, actually,” I say, feeling indignant. “I worked as a barista. And rote is a pretty complex word for an idiot like you, Chance.”
He shrugs. “Maybe I’m an idiot. But at least I’m enjoying myself.”
“You enjoy being a total dick to everyone? You enjoy getting all sweaty with another guy and beating him up?”
“I enjoy winning my fights, yes. And I’m not a dick to everyone.”
“Oh, I mean, except for your stupid group of friends who follow you around like dogs.”
“Hey, I don’t give a fuck about them. I was talking about the girls, actually.”
Don't start, I think to myself. His reputation is known in this school, and the one the next county over.
Chance Hudson has slept with more girls than ten men will in their lifetimes, they say.
Chance Hudson has slept with half the female staff, they say.
I don’t care. It’s disgusting. He’s a dog.
“You’re a dog,” I say. “You’re disgusting.”
He grins, eyebrows flashing up. “I am, aren’t I?”
“You’re proud of it?”
He thinks for a moment, pushing his lips together, and brown eyebrows pinching together like two caterpillars meeting.
“Never really thought about it that way. It’s just what I do.” He smirks at me again, before getting up off the bench. “Come on,” he says.
“Excuse me?”
“Come on. I’ll give you a ride. You know you want one.” He doesn’t even smile, he just plays it straight.
“Yuck. You’re gross,” I say, shaking my head. “No thanks.”
“The bus isn’t due for an hour. You know that right?”
“An hour?”
“What, you didn’t check the timetable? I thought you knew everything.”
“I thought you knew nothing.”
“Well I know you can either sit out here for an hour, or I can drive you home.”
“Why would I get into a car with you?”
“Come on, Cass, are you really asking me that question? Why does anybody get into a car with me?” He extends his arm, all lean and muscular, but I just ignore it. He really is such a pig.
“You’re so wrong, you know, with how you approach everything. You can’t talk to people this way. You’ve got a one-track mind.”
“This one-track mind is about to give you a free lift home.”
“No, this one-track mind is about to piss off.”
“Are you sure?” he says. “Don’t worry, I may be a dog, but I won’t bite.”
I snap the book I was reading shut, and get up, sighing. I don’t want to wait for an hour.
“Don’t try anything.”
He laughs, and puts his hands up. “You’ve got a pretty inflated opinion of yourself, don’t you?”
“Just shut up, okay?” I say, irritated. “Just, don’t talk to me. Where’s your car?”
“So you do want a ride?”
I narrow my eyes at him. “Where’s your car, Chance?”
“Alright, alright,” he says, falling into step with me. My shoulder rubs against his, but I pull away. Still, it leaves my heart beating quicker.
“Over here,” he says, and we walk to the street. There I see what looks like a sports car. “Mazda RX-8,” he informs me.
“I don’t care about your car.”
“Well, to be fair, muscle was always my thing, but this was a gift. I can’t really complain.”
“Someone gifted you a Mazda?” I cry, flabbergasted. I realize it’s not exactly uncommon around this area, but still, it looks expensive, and who would like Chance enough to give him a car?
Who would trust him enough to give him a sports car?
He unlocks the car and walks around to the driver’s side. “Well, get in!” he says. “You don’t think I’m going to open the door for you, do you?”
“Piss off, Chance. Just don’t talk, okay?” I snarl, climbing into the car.
Excerpt:
Unleashed
An MMA Stepbrother Romance
It’s so hot in the car that I have to take off my gown, and of course, leave it to me to wait until I’m actually in the car, and we’re actually moving, before I try to. I struggle through it, pulling it off my arms, contorting as much as possible against the seat belt.
That’s when I notice Chance isn’t wearing his seat belt.
“What are you, a complete idiot? Will you put your seat belt on?”
“It’s not far,” he says casually.
“Put it on,” I say, hardening my voice. “You know how many people die because they are as stupid as you?”
“Okay, okay, no need to get your panties all twisted up,” he says, pulling the seat belt over his body. “I was about to.”
I sigh, and pinch the bridge of my nose. “I’m not getting anything twisted up. You’re just an idiot. And don’t say panties. It’s juvenile.”
“Ouch. What is it with you and the name calling, Cass?”
“Don’t call me Cass. My name is Cassie.”
“You’re all so prickly.” He leans over to me and grins. “Prickly pear… are you frustrated?”
“God, just let me out of the car, okay?” I’m huffing now, and I don’t even know why I agreed to get in in the first place.
“Oh, just sit still, will you? We’re nearly there.”