The Bad Boy (Black Mountain)

“Morning,” Mary said softly. “You feeling okay?” Darcy glanced at her, and Mary knew her question was stupid given how she felt, but also because she saw the bags under Darcy’s eyes and the almost green hue to her face.

Darcy had slung back far more drinks than Mary last night, and clearly she was feeling it the next morning.

“I feel like shit,” Darcy finally said in a croaky voice. She moved to sit up but winced and flopped back in place. “Yeah, sitting up is a no go. I feel like an elephant chewed me up and shit me out.”

Mary scrunched her nose. “Nice visual there.” Mary stared at the TV for a moment then looked back at Darcy, who now had her eyes closed and a hand on her forehead. “Why don’t you go back to bed?”

“I can’t. My head’s pounding, I feel like throwing up with every move I make, and every part hurts.” Darcy groaned. “Why did you let me drink so much?” Mary snorted and Darcy lifted her hand and glared at her. “All right, I guess I probably wouldn’t have listened, but still.” Darcy’s expression became clear and serous. “How are you doing? With, you know… it all?”

Mary headed toward her friend and plopped her ass on the chair across from the couch and took a deep breath. “I’m fine.” What a lie. “It sucks, but what am I supposed to do?” The last memory was a blur of them rushing out of the nightclub and coming home. They’d stayed up and Darcy and been silent as Mary told her everything. Tutoring Alex, the wedding, her mother’s demand, the way Alex had acted, and the things he’d said last night… all of it.

Darcy put her arm down and scooted up on the couch. “I’m sorry. Such a shit ending to an otherwise nice night.”

“It’s not like I hadn’t heard the rumors about Alex, and I don’t blame him for just showing his true colors.” Mary exhaled and rested her head back on the chair and stared at the water stains on the ceiling. “I just know he said all that shit, pushing me away—”

“Because he wants you,” Darcy finished, and Mary lifted her head to look at Darcy.

“Maybe that’s just wishful thinking.”

Darcy shook her head. “If he didn’t care about you, he wouldn’t have said anything. He would have screwed you and done the walk of shame the next day.”

It sounded nice… but Mary also didn’t want to be a fool. “He could have gone about it a whole different way.”

“He could have, but they don’t call him the bad boy on campus for no reason.”

Mary snorted and shook her head, which had the pain throbbing behind her eyes even harder. “I can’t believe I’m actually thinking about still taking him with me, if he’d even go after all that.”

“Dude, I’d say fuck BitchTron’s wedding.” Darcy yawned and stretched out her arms at the same time.

Mary couldn’t help but laugh. “Like I would blow it off if I could, but I kind of have to go to my sister’s wedding. I’m in the damn thing.”

Darcy made a noise that she heard me. “You can bring me? I’ll be your date. I can wear my transparent shirt and Daisy Dukes.” Darcy wagged her brows and Mary started laughing harder.

“Thanks, but I wouldn’t want to subject you to that crowd.” It was Darcy’s turn to start laughing.

“Honestly, I probably would end up bitch-slapping your mom and sister before the night was over with.” They were silent for a long second before Darcy said, “So what are you going to do about the whole Alex thing?”

“What do you mean?”

Darcy threw the blanket off her lap. “I mean, are you going to still tutor him, or has that ship sailed?”

Last night, while her blood had still been boiling over what he said and how he pushed her away, Mary would have said hell no, but now? She wasn’t so sure.

She could always keep her end of the deal and help him pass his course, and he in turn could go with her to the wedding. Maybe that’s what she’d have to point out to him to have him still onboard?

Could she actually still go through with this, pretend that she felt absolutely nothing for him? She was an idiot for even contemplating wanting to help him still, but in return, he would also be helping her.

Mary could do it, could get through all of this, and then they could go their separate ways.

14

Someone had to be slamming a sledgehammer down on Alex’s skull, because no way in hell could his head hurt this fucking bad unless that was the case.

He cracked an eye open and immediately slammed it shut when the piercing, bright morning light that came through his window assaulted him.