Jaded (Jaded 1)

"Coffee's a good antidote," Bryce deadpanned.

Denton scowled his way, but recovered almost immediately.

Bryce and I both caught it and shared a look. I shifted in my seat and introduced, "Mena, this is Leisha. Leisha, this is Mena. Mena's first day was yesterday at our school."

"Oh really? I don't remember seeing you." Leisha said warmly. I enjoyed her naiveté.

"So why was your friend in jail?" Denton said abruptly. I don't think he enjoyed the naiveté.

I ignored him and murmured, "Mena, do you have a fever now?"

"No," she said quickly.

"See? Coffee heals anything," Bryce said easily, but kept his eyes on Denton, alert.

"Look, man, I was concerned for my sister. What's your problem?" Denton bit out and flexed his hands.

"I think I skipped my second day when I started high school too." I laughed and shifted in my seat, getting comfortable.

Denton caught the insult and glared at me. "You're a real bitch, you know that?"

"Me?" I asked innocently, fighting a smile.

Bryce bit back a smile.

Leisha gulped and had the whole deer in headlights look again.

Mena just frowned.

Denton leaned forward and retorted, "It may work wonders in bed, darling. In real life, people are going to stop dancing to your tune real quick."

"Funny how you're still dancing," I mused.

A wall slammed in place over Denton's eyes and he stood up. "Let's go, Mena. You're feeling better. I should take you to school."

Mena stood reluctantly.

I suggested, "You can ride with us. We should get going too."

"No," Denton said quickly with a hand at his sister's elbow. "I'll take her. I don't know if she'll actually get there with you."

Bryce laughed.

"Was that an insult?" I joined in Bryce's amusement.

Denton shook his head and dragged Mena behind him. We watched through the window and saw him shake his arm in the air at her. Mena shrugged him off and got into the passenger seat. A moment later Denton followed and his tires squealed out of the parking lot.

"What…," Leisha breathed out. "What was that?"

I shrugged and stood, "Let's go." Game over.

Leisha led the way and Bryce fell in step beside me. He ignored my back pocket and slid his fingers into my thong's top strap. His thumb gently caressed the outside of my pants and he murmured into my ear, "Big Fame Steele's got a temper on him."

"I know."

He held me back and the coffee shop's door shut with us on the inside and Leisha on the outside. She stopped at my car and glanced back for us.

He nipped at my bottom lip and murmured, huskily, "Can we please ditch this girl?"

"And do what?" I nipped back.

Bryce slid his tongue against mine before he replied, "Do what we should've done yesterday."

"Spend the whole day in bed?" I laughed and pushed away from him.

"Why not?"

I looked in surprise and saw that he was serious.

"Whatever, Bryce. You have scouts all this week." I moved to leave, but he caught my arm again.

"What?" I asked again, breathless.

"I'll still play. Let's skip. Come on."

"You won't play and you know it." His coach was strict, which was needed with Bryce. Coach Bewer was also a pseudo father figure to Bryce, including punishment and discipline. The soccer field was probably the only place that Bryce didn't get away with our games.

"Seriously, Sheldon."

"Seriously, Bryce," I said firmly. "No." I slipped out of his hold and was outside before he could drag me back inside.

Bryce followed reluctantly and shot me a dark look as he sat in the passenger seat.

Leisha just watched us both warily. She was like a breath of fresh air.

Chapter 7

Bryce didn't comment the entire drive back towards school, but it wasn't a long drive until I turned the engine off.

A group of students stood just outside the school's doors. Some smoked, some just chatted.

"There's Yerling," Bryce noted and gestured towards the door. Sure enough, Yerling and his posse stood amongst the group.

I sat back with the keys in my hand. I wasn't sure I wanted to be around for whatever was going to happen.

Leisha had moved to the door handle, but she paused and waited for us.

"Go," I said briskly and she left. Bryce and I both watched as Chad stepped to the front of the group. He threw his cigarette to the ground and watched my car. His eyes trailed to Leisha, but he let her pass without a second look.

He still looked bloodied. A large bruise had formed at his jaw and at the corner of his eye. His nose was swollen and his eye was bloodshot.

"Holy," I murmured. "He looks awful."

Bryce bristled beside me.

"Your knuckles didn't look like they'd done that."

Bryce didn't comment on that, but he said instead, "Let's go back to your place." He grinned charmingly, "You can put ice on my knuckles."

"It's not the only thing that needs ice."

He grinned faintly, but moved across and kissed the underside of my jaw.

"Seriously." I put a hand on his chest, intending to push him away.

He slid a hand down the inside of my thigh until I firmly pushed him back.

"What is up with you?" I demanded, seriously. "Contrary to what you might think, I don't spend my days on my back." At the glint of amusement, I added, "Or straddling some guy or on my knees. What is going on with you?"

"Nothing," he said tightly and settled back in his seat.

I watched him, concerned.

"Bryce," I said softly. No more games.

He glanced away, but I heard his breath of surrender.

A moment later, he relented, "I don't need to be at practice anymore."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm off the team."

"What?!"

"It's not like that," he said hastily. "I already got the scholarship. They don't want me to play high school anymore."

Oh.

I sat back stunned. And then I cried out, "That's not fair. They can't do that." He'd miss everything. His senior games, play-offs, even state—and that's if they got there without him.

"They already did. Dad met with them last night and finalized everything."

"You're really not playing for the rest of the year."

He nodded.

"How's your coach feel about that?"

Bryce's jaw clenched and he replied tightly, "He's not happy."

"Did you go to practice last night?"

"Yeah, but I didn't need to."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I didn't want to be having this conversation," he pointed out.

"Bryce, you're such a shit."

He chuckled.

"Does Corrigan know?"

"Yeah."