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Bad Intentions (Bad Love 2)

Page 83

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I sign paperwork, and then I’m handed my belongings. My phone is dead—no surprise there. I decide to walk the mile and a half home, in the snow, hoping like fuck Lo’s there.

When I walk into my house, Jess is awake on the couch, as if he’s waiting for me.

“You said you wouldn’t hurt her,” he accuses, not bothering to look at me.

“Where is she?”

“She just fell asleep.”

“I need to talk to her,” I say, hoping Jess doesn’t make this an issue, because I’m really not in the mood right now.

“Fucking fix it,” he says, and I don’t waste another second, running up the steps to our room.

Lo is curled up in a ball on top of the blankets at the foot of our bed. Her cheeks are streaked with tears and faint traces of blood, like she tried to wash it off but lacked the energy to do so.

Not even bothering to kick my boots off, I climb in behind her, tugging her into me. I need to feel her warmth right now. To feel her skin against mine.

“Lo,” I say, my voice a hoarse whisper.

She jolts awake, sitting up in bed.

“It’s okay. It’s just me,” I say.

The confusion in her eyes clears, but it’s replaced with sadness. “Are you okay?” She asks, and I nod. “I don’t know how to help you. To be what you need.”

“You are what I need,” I insist, sitting up and swinging my legs over the side of the bed. “I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”

“I don’t even know what you’re sorry for,” she says, exasperated. “Because you don’t tell me anything.”

“Come here, Lo,” I say, laying back and holding out my arms. She hesitates before letting me wrap them around her. “I’m ready to tell you everything.”

Hazel eyes look up at me, tired yet full of hope. I take a fortifying breath, steeling myself for her reaction.

“When I was sixteen years old, I killed my foster brother.”

Lo doesn’t blink. She stays quiet, her face blank, and I slip into the memory of that day.

“Come on, Dare.” Sarah pouted, outstretched arms covered in her puffy, bright yellow winter coat from her place on the frozen lake. “Dance with me.”

“Get off the ice. It’s not safe,” I warned her. This winter wasn’t as cold as it usually was.

“It’s frozen. We do this all the time,” she argued, spinning around as if she were ice-skating. “Ugh, fine,” she huffed when she realized I wasn’t budging. She trudged through the snow to take her place on the bench next to me.

“I just wanted to see you smile for once,” she admitted, tucking her gloved-hand into mine. I gave her hand a slight squeeze, softening my rejection before pulling it away, causing those blue eyes to dull with sadness. She knew I wasn’t one for physical affection.

I knew she had a crush on me. I also knew this thing between us was a bad idea. She was my foster sister. Her parents were the closest thing I had to family. Her brother, Luke, was one of my good friends, too. He was two years older than me. Soccer superstar. Homecoming king. I was just a fucked-up kid who liked to drink and draw, and sometimes, when the opportunity presented itself, I’d get my dick wet. We had nothing in common, but somehow, we got along.

“You should be in class,” I said, and it was so cold I could see my breath. Typical for the time of year.

“So should you.” She laughed. She insisted on skipping with me today. Sarah never missed a day. I doubt she even had a tardy before today. She packed a thermos of hot chocolate and drove us out to a secluded part of the frozen lake.

“Why are we here?” I asked, trying not to sound too harsh. I cared for Sarah like a sister, or at least I thought I did. I never had anything to compare it to. Sometimes when we made out, I thought I might like her in that way, too. When you grow up without any type of love or affection, it’s hard to differentiate these things. I was starting to realize that there were many types of love, and whatever I had for Sarah, it wasn’t of the romantic variety. Of course, my dick felt differently, but that was just…biology.

“I wanted to ask you something,” she said, her cheeks turning pink either from the cold or embarrassment or both.

“What is it?”

“I want to lose my virginity,” she blurted out, and my eyebrows shot up to my hairline. “God, this sounds so stupid out loud,” she groaned, shaking her head, burying her face in her glove-covered hands.



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