Bradford Bastard (Bradford Bastard 1)

“See that you do,” Dormer says as the bell sounds through the school. “You may go, Brielle. It was a pleasure chatting with you and I look forward to watching you excel during your time here. Now, hurry along to class, and in the meantime, it would be wise to arrange a visit with our guidance counselor who can look over your college applications and ensure that you’ve done everything possible to secure your college of choice.”

I nod, excitement drumming through my veins. “I will. Thank you,” I say before standing and giving Miss Harper a smile. Maybe she isn’t such a grinch after all.

Scurrying out of the office, I find my way back into the long hallway and start heading toward my first class of the day, squeezing my way through all the students heading in the opposite direction. My shoulders bump against the masses as I stare ahead in horror. Why is everyone in the whole freaking school going the same way at the same damn time? Who scheduled this? It’s as though Billie Eilish just appeared and the masses are rushing to get to her.

I get halfway down the hall when a large body steps directly in front of me, blocking my way and my gaze snaps up to find the very asshole the faculty were just trying to warn me away from. “Do you need something?” I question, a thrill rushing through my veins, quickly becoming addicted to the intense way he stares at me while also trying to block out the way he’s hurt me and the nasty things he’ll never be able to take back.

“Why are you coming from this way?” he questions, nodding up ahead from the crowded hall I just squeezed through. “Your home room is the opposite way and then you have biology which is across campus.”

I arch a brow, my fingers flinching at my side, itching to reach out and slip my hand up his shirt to feel the warmth of his skin beneath my palm. “You keeping tabs on me, Morgan?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

A smile pulls at my lips, and I hate how obvious I’m being about this ridiculous crush I have on him. He probably thinks I’m so pathetic, acting like every other girl who’s ever thrown themselves at him, despite his efforts to scare me off. “You called Miss Harper and gave her my real essay.”

He shakes his head. “Don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says, smirking right back at me. “Must have been someone else.”

“Really now?” I laugh, leaning my shoulder against the wall as he moves closer into me, that heavenly scent overwhelming my senses and making me weak. “She called you out by name, and also, she’s a bit concerned about how you got her personal cell number. I mean, if you’re into the whole teacher student thing, just say the word and I’ll take my hat out of the ring.”

“Really? You’re admitting that your hat’s in the ring?”

My eyes bug out, realizing what I just said. “It’s not,” I rush out. “It’s so far out of the ring that I don’t even have a hat. It disintegrated the second I spilled beer down your shirt and you opened your big mouth.”

“Uh-huh,” he says, getting even closer, my chin unintentionally tipping back in the hopes that maybe, just maybe he might kiss me and make all the pain go away.

“I’m torn,” I murmur. “I don’t know if I should thank you for fixing things with Miss Harper, or if I should knee you in the balls for screwing with my essay in the first place … actually, knee you twice in the balls for all the other bullshit as well.”

He takes a subtle step back, knowing that after dropping Riley last week, I won’t hesitate to do the same to him, and to be fair, he deserves it a shitload more. “I mean, there’s always one thing you could do to make it up to me.”

Rolling my eyes, I shuffle back a step, needing to put a little space between us so I can think clearly. “I ummm … I think I owe you a conversation,” I tell him, skipping right to the chase, done with this strange tension between us.

“About what?”

“Your sister,” I tell him, watching as his eyes harden and become full of anger. “What you said the other day ... I was angry that you’d busted into my room without invitation—not that you’ve ever waited for an invitation before—and I was hurt about the way you’d just walked away at the track.” I pause, meeting his cautious stare. “We’ve both calmed down and I’ve been thinking about that night at the party and everything that went down. I think maybe I can offer you something more now that I’m not so busy wanting to pull your balls out through your throat.”