Bad Intentions (Bad Love 2)

I sketch at the high-top counter in my kitchen for maybe thirty minutes before giving up on the three staggered pine trees in front of me. The same ones I have on my forearm, and the same ones I find myself drawing over and over again. I throw my pencil down at the drawing like it offended me. And it has. This was supposed to help me feel calmer, to clear the fucked-up thoughts in my head. To quiet the guilt. But not even the pine trees can help me tonight. I can’t pinpoint why I’m feeling so off, but I can’t shake my weird mood, so I stand from my barstool and punch the light switch with my fist before heading upstairs to bed.

I don’t even make it to the top of the stairs before I hear a knock at the door. Which idiot is it now? My bet is on Cordell. Cam is too busy being a dad and Asher was just here, so that leaves one person. Except when I swing open the door, it’s not Cordell’s face I see.

“Hey, roomie,” Adrian says with a big stupid smile on his face that has women dropping their panties for him despite the fact that he’s a goofy bastard. I take one look at the backpack on his shoulder and the suitcase in his hand before slamming the door in his face. He throws out a palm to stop it from closing.

“I’m just playin’! Kelley won’t let me in. And judging from the noises coming from inside their house, it’s going to be a while.”

On one hand, I don’t want to do anything to encourage him. Adrian’s like a fucking fungus. He’s grown on me. A little. But I won’t admit that to anyone. On the other hand, I just want to get some fucking sleep.

“One night,” I warn. “I mean it. Take the couch.” I jerk my chin toward the living room behind me. I have rooms upstairs. Asher’s room is even furnished, but I like my space, and knowing Adrian, he’ll take it as an invitation to move in if I let him have his own room.

“You’re the boss, applesauce.”

I shake my head, and he walks past me, kicks off his shoes, drops his pants, and plops down on my couch like he owns the place.

“Make yourself at home,” I mutter, grabbing a blanket off the back of the recliner and throwing it at him. He takes the hint, covering his shit up.

“What, you sleep with pants on?” He scoffs.

“In other people’s homes, I sure as fuck do.” I turn back for the stairs. “I’m going to bed.”

I’m warm. Uncharacteristically warm. Those are my first thoughts when I wake up. Then I remember that Adrian’s here. He probably turned up the heat. Eyes still closed, I kick off my blankets, ready to doze back off for another hour, but then my foot hits something hard. Something that grunts.

“I swear to God, if you don’t have pants on, I’m going to fuck you up.”

I don’t get a response, and I turn, as if in slow motion, to see Adrian sleeping, head on my pillow, without a care in the world. I kick him hard enough to roll his ass out of my bed and onto the hardwood floor. He lands with a thud.

“The fuck?!”

“My thoughts exactly. Who sneaks into another man’s bed?!”

“It was fucking cold! You left me with a tiny ass blanket that wasn’t even big enough to cover my balls.”

“So, you didn’t think to take Ash’s old room, or I don’t know, wake me up and ask me for another blanket?”

“Why are you making this such a big deal?”

“Because I don’t like people in my fucking bed. Especially ones with dicks.”

“Noted,” Adrian grumbles, and when he stands, I see that he’s wearing sweats. Thank fuck for small miracles.

There was no sleep to be had after waking up to Adrian’s mug in my face. Instead of getting an extra hour of sleep, I dragged my ass to the shop early. Bad Intentions is my home away from home anyway. I have everything I need here, including the few hours of peace and quiet before we open that I can’t seem to get at my own home.

As I’m checking out the schedule for today, I see Logan across the street. She’s getting out of her dad’s 4Runner, then looks both ways before running across. At first, I think she’s coming here, but she’s heading for the place next door. When she drops her keys and bends over, I have to admit, she’s got the best ass I’ve seen in a long time. Tiny waist, thick thighs, and a fat ass. God bless yoga pants.

Blackbear isn’t open yet, so she knocks on the door. Logan steps back, rubbing her upper arms and bouncing in place as she waits for someone to open it. Her tits jiggle, and I bet if I were closer, I’d see her hard nipples through her shirt. As if she can hear my thoughts, she turns toward me. We lock eyes through the window. It’s too late to act like I wasn’t staring now. She holds my gaze, the wind blowing a strand of her dark hair across her face, neither one of us backing down.

The door opens, breaking our staring contest, and out comes Jake. She smiles at something he says, and then he holds the door open for her, checking her out as she walks in. I can’t fault him when I just did the same thing, but I will anyway.

Ignoring her presence was supposed to be easy, and it would’ve been. I would’ve forgotten all about her by tomorrow, had she not gotten a job right fucking next door.

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I break Dare’s icy stare as my new boss greets me. I paste a smile onto my face as he opens the door for me.

“Logan?” he questions, and I nod. “My bad, I was in the office in back. Come in.”

His voice is easy and friendly, and he’s much younger than I thought he’d be. He looks somewhere between twenty-five and thirty with dark, floppy hair under a backwards baseball hat, brown eyes, and tanned skin. He looks like a surfer type. Not exactly what I was expecting.