Bad Habit (Bad Love 1)

“It wasn’t—” I start, but he cuts me right off.

“No, it wasn’t your fault. Those fucks were drunker than shit.”

“Oh. Okay.”

I didn’t expect that. I don’t know why, I just assumed he’d find a way to turn it around on me.

“But, you weren’t paying attention.” Annnnd there it is. “If you hadn’t thought fast…”

“Thank you, Asher,” I say simply.

He gives a short, forced nod, but then Whitley is there next to him, tracing her talons up and down the dips and grooves of his abs. Asher tenses ever so slightly, but I catch it.

“That’s a really cute suit, Briar,” Whitley says, her saccharine sweet voice dripping with insincerity.

“Thanks,” I deadpan.

“It’s really brave for someone so…curvy to wear white. I wish I was as confident as you are.”

I roll my eyes, letting her comment roll off my back before walking away. Is this what we’re resorting to now? Backhanded, mean girl compliments? Seeing her touch his body with such ease, such intimacy, was far worse than any insult she could sling at me. I sit on the cushioned bench on the very back of the boat, resting a forearm on my folded knees.

Dash, deciding this is as good a place as any, throws the anchor over the side, next to another boat full of partiers. There are probably ten or so guys and girls who look to be a little older than us. Maybe mid-twenties. Dash grabs the beer bong and steps over onto their boat and introduces himself. Ever the attention whore.

“Having fun, pretty girl?” Adrian asks, plopping down beside me, flashing that megawatt smile. He’s ridiculously attractive with his inky black hair, caramel-colored skin, and golden eyes. Why couldn’t I crush on a guy like him? Because that would be too easy.

“I was before I almost died.” I laugh.

“I don’t think it was the near-death experience that put that look on your face,” he teases. But he’s also right.

“When did you get so insightful?” I grumble.

We both watch as Whitley sits on an uninterested Asher. At least, he appears to be uninterested, with the way he stares directly ahead as Whitley bounces around on his lap to some shitty Ke$ha song playing from the other boat.

Adrian tucks a wayward hair behind my ear, and I must give him the dirtiest side-eye known to man, because he laughs and leans in, explaining himself.

“Trust me. He just needs a little push.”

I swallow hard and give a shaky nod. Good thing Dash is too entertained by his new friends to notice Adrian’s show. Though, somehow, I suspect that he’d get away with it, anyway. Adrian just has that way about him. He can bullshit his way out of anything, and everyone loves him. Even Ash, though you’d never know it by seeing them together.

“Don’t look at him,” Adrian says in a hushed voice. “Keep looking at me.”

I look into his usually mirthful eyes, but right now, they’re full of heat, and I’m wondering if this is still an act. He cups the side of my neck, pulling me closer. His lips are just an inch from mine, and even though I know it’s all for show, my stomach twists with nerves.

“Damn, Briar. I’m starting to think you’d be worth the beating I’d get from your brother and Kelley.”

Huh?

“I’m gonna kiss you. Go with it.”

His fingertips touch my cheek, and for some reason, my first thought is how they’re so much softer than Asher’s calloused hands. It’s a testament to how different their lives have been. How different they still are.

I’m about to say no. These kinds of games always lead to trouble. I chance a look at Asher out of the corner of my eye, and all I can focus on is his death grip on Whitley’s thigh.

All of a sudden, Adrian’s soft lips meet mine. I gasp, and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue in to tangle with him. Before I can process the fact that it’s happening, his mouth is ripped away from mine. And then a moment later, a splash.

My eyes shoot open to see Asher in front of me—face full of anger and clenched fists full of rage—and I hear Adrian sputtering and chuckling from the water. Asher pushed him off the edge? That fucker was right.

“Keep your fucking hands to yourself.”