The Bad Boy (Black Mountain)

She nodded even though he couldn’t see her. “Okay, well we can meet up, and I can let you know what openings I have and some other details on the tutoring?” And get the nerve to ask you about being my faux date to my sister’s wedding.

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s good. You tell me the place and the time and I’ll drop whatever I have going on to meet you.” A beat of silence passed, and she could hear some shuffling of papers on the other end of the receiver, and then the sound of something heavy falling crashed through. “Fuck.” His curse was soft but clipped. “Shit. Dammit. Ugh, sorry for the cursing.”

Mary found herself smiling. It was clear he thought she was some goody two shoes if he didn’t even want to curse in front of her. “You’re fine, Alex.” She couldn’t help but laugh softly. “How about meeting tomorrow around noon or one? Either time works for me so whichever one works for you?”

“Noon works.”

“There’s that sandwich place—Rocko’s—on the corner of High Street where we can meet.”

“Sounds good, Mary.” He cleared his throat again and Mary found herself pulling at a stray thread at the hem of her shirt, feeling nervous like she was standing right in front of him and trapped in his intense blue gaze. “I’ll see ya then, Mary.”

A shiver coursed through her body at the way he said her name. It wasn’t even in a sexual way, but it was deep and skated along every part of her body, and all she could do was try to breathe through these feelings that made no sense and she’d never experienced before.

It was exhilarating as much as it scared the shit out of her.

7

Alex sat at one of the patio tables outside of Rocko’s. Although the weather wasn’t the best for being outside, he didn’t want to be crammed inside and suffocating.

He had his fingers wrapped around the coffee mug in front of him, but didn’t bother drinking it, and instead let the fluid inside cool by the minute.

He thought about Mary and how he’d acted like a fucking nervous asshole. He was at least thankful she hadn’t been right in front of him to see how anxious he’d been—running his hands through his hair, bouncing his leg up and down as he sat on the edge of his bed. How he’d been fucking sweating like he’d run around the block.

Yeah, thank fuck she hadn’t seen him.

The truth was he’d never been drawn to a girl like he was to her. He hadn’t ever thought about a girl as much as he did Mary, and their small interaction shouldn’t have made him feel so irrational and… possessive.

He’d never had this desire, this need to see a girl, to just be close to her. It was irrational as hell. And even if Mary Trellis wasn’t the type of girl he usually went for, with how smart she was… so damn smart and so damn beautiful, the truth was she was way out of his league.

She wouldn’t just be some easy lay that would jump in bed with him because of who he was. After scrubbing a hand over his face, he leaned back in the white plastic chair and stared out at the traffic. The waitress made a second pass by his table and grinned down at him. Alex knew that look, it was one of desire, but it left him feeling cold and hollow and totally fucking disinterested.

“Need anything else?” She popped her hip out, her red painted lips stretching out over her unnaturally white teeth.

“I’m good,” he said, and gave her a pleasant enough smile, one he knew didn’t reach his eyes. “Thanks though.” When she hadn’t moved, he glanced at her. “I’m waiting for someone. She might want something when she gets here.”

She ducked her head and he saw her cheeks turn pink. He’d embarrassed her by his disinterest when she’d clearly wanted to lay it on thick. He could have said sorry, but it would have just made things even more awkward.

She opened her mouth to say something else, but this tightening in his body intensified, this tingling covering his skin. He straightened and glanced to his right, the heavy organ in the center of his chest pounding even harder at the sight of Mary.

“I’ll give you a moment to decide what you’d like,” the waitress murmured before taking her leave.

He went to stand and found himself pulling out the chair beside him. “Here, have a seat.” She came closer but had this skeptical expression on her face. He reached out and took her shoulder bag from her, and once seated, he pushed her chair in. Fuck, here he was being a gentleman when he’d never been one before.

Alex sat back down, and a strange sort of uncomfortable silence passed between them, and he couldn’t help but worry that she got the wrong impression about him. He hated the fucking talk that spread about him on campus, ones that called him a manwhore, a guy who partied hard—too hard—and a drunk who would get into fights if someone crossed him.