Dirty Bad Boys Box Set: Forbidden Romance Collection

Crawled under my skin like a parasite. It isn’t just the fact that I looked stupid for not knowing he’s the same guy I ran into last week, it’s the way he spoke to me. Like I’m a nobody. I have been so accustomed to nice guys like Liam that I’ve forgotten that dickheads still exist.

The music in the room softens to a much more enjoyable level as a guy with long hair tied into a loose ponytail tests the mic. His beard almost touches his chest—long and full enough to house a swarm of bees.

I swivel my chair around to face the set and see Flynn sitting on a stool, practicing with his sticks. He’s focused, narrowing his brow and biting his lip, flicking his piercing with his tongue.

Wait, a piercing? My foot falls off the stool and onto the floor as I stumble forward only to be pulled upright by an unknown hand.

“Jesus, can’t take you anywhere.”

The shock slows me down until I turn slowly and connect the hand with the face.

Are you kidding me? I don’t know what messed-up game the universe is playing, but I want out.

Wesley is standing beside me, a smirk the size of Jupiter with that annoying stare that drives me insane. Yeah, I know what he’s thinking—here’s that dumb girl again who seems to manage to make a fool of herself every time I’m around.

I blame my wedges since I haven’t worn them after my ill-fated trip down the stairwell back home. I’m certain they’re possessed, yet I wear them because they match my navy A-line dress and make my legs look slimmer.

“I was distracted.” I clear my throat. “My brother is the drummer, and he has a piercing that wasn’t there this morning.”

“Let me guess. You’re a nun who thinks piercings are acts of the devil?”

“No…” I drag, annoyed at his presumption. “It’s just not like Flynn. Anyway, are you stalking me?”

I don’t know where that came from, but his presence, so close, annoys the living daylights out of me. How can someone so attractive be so unattractive at the same time? He’s changed from wearing a suit, dressed in some light chinos and a dark denim shirt. It’s nothing like the bike gear he wore the other day, nor the suit earlier today, and for some reason, it strikes me as odd that one man can be so versatile.

Okay, admit it for one second, he looks nice in his yuppie get-up.

“Are you done staring now?”

“I wasn’t staring.” I straighten my posture, crossing my legs in an attempt to act confident. “It would be rude to stare, and if I want to be rude, I won’t waste it on you.”

His eyes flare with amusement. “Ouch, you must really hate me.”

“Hate is such a strong word.”

“Well, I can tell you don’t like me.”

“Yet, you continue to stand here, blocking my view when the purpose of being here is to watch my brother.”

Even in the dark, the contours of his face are defined—striking jaw in an upward pose, teasing me like we’re in the schoolyard.

“Sorry,” he apologizes sarcastically. “I’m pretty sure this is a public place, but let me walk away from you because I’m here for another reason. Your clumsiness just happened to catch my attention… again.”

I open my mouth to respond back, but it’s too late. He walks away in the opposite direction, suddenly crowded by a bunch of women who appear to be literally throwing themselves at him. They’re young girls who don’t even look of legal age and shouldn’t be in the bar. He doesn’t seem to care, lapping up the attention with his arms wrapped around two of the girls and easily ignoring my presence.

I force myself to ignore him, finishing the gin and tonic and waiting for the set to start. The entire band is on stage, and with a short introduction, they open up with a remake of Help! by The Beatles, remade to sound like rock which appears to be a big hit with the crowd.

Flynn is in his element. His talent to play music in beat with the band comes naturally to him. I wish Mama could see him now. She would be so proud of him, watching him perform and come out of his shell, something he struggled with back home. That piercing, though, I highly doubt she will be proud of that.

The atmosphere is buzzing, people congregate in circles enjoying the time with friends. I have never felt so lonely. Aside from Flynn, who rarely spends time with me, I have no one here. Emerson is a great manager, but she isn’t exactly someone I hang out with or pour my guts out to. I miss Phoebe. She would have been drunk already, picked up several guys, and managed to climb onstage to play air guitar with the band.

And then, there’s that longing just to feel wanted.

Something I took for granted with Liam. Liam is a great boyfriend, but I guess over time like many relationships, we fell into the comfortable basket. It never bothered me at all, we would easily spend our time in the basement watching David Attenborough documentaries with a tub of popcorn between us. It was simple, yet comforting.

This new life I have created in just two weeks is slowly growing on me. I enjoy the drive around Los Angeles, although traffic is a bitch. Visiting new places and talking to different walks of life if only for a few minutes, is fantastic and I love it. My neighborhood, while completely ghetto, is even growing on me a little.

The loneliness is the only thing bringing me down.