Bryce (Scandalous Boys #1) Page 5

  He tips his head up. “I see you’re drawing.”

  “Yep.”

  He walks over to my bed and asks, “May I?”

  “Yeah, sure.”

  He takes a seat on my bed and leans back on his elbows. “Will you show me some of the stuff you drew?”

  For some reason this makes me smile. It shouldn’t, because it’s Bryce asking. “Sure.”

  I hand him my sketchbook. He starts to crack open the book. “I’m sorry if you hate any of them,” I warn him ahead of time. Because there are sketches of Bryce in there. As well as Graham and Emily, my family, and other things, like places.

  He nods and starts to look through the pages. He pauses on one of him. In it, his shoulders are slumped as he leans against the hood of his car and smokes a cigarette. He looks up, and his eyes lock with mine. I’m about to grab the book back from him. I don’t need him thinking I’m obsessed with him too.

  He must know what I’m about to do, though, because he stands and starts walking around the room, still flipping through the pages. “Wow,” he says. “Smalls, I really had no idea you were so good.”

  My jaw hits the floor. “Really?”

  Bryce looks at me. “Yeah. Can I … can I take this one?” He points at the one I drew of him when we were all at the lake. Normally, I’d say no, but today, I just nod. He smiles and carefully rips the page out of the book. “Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  He hands back my book and rocks on his heels. “So, the reason I came over here was to see if you were all right.”

  Placing my sketchbook back into my desk, I sigh. “I’m okay. I guess.” For some reason I laugh. “Well, besides the fact that Graham hates me, he’s dating my awful cousin, and all my clothes look like something a stripper should be wearing. All in all, I say, yeah, I’m okay.”

  Bryce frowns. “All of your shorts are like the ones you wore today?”

  I nod. “Some are worse. Wanna see?” I’ve completely lost my mind. I’m asking if Bryce wants to see my shorty shorts. Next thing that’ll come out of my mouth will probably be worse—like, “Wanna see me in them?” Ugh!

  Bryce follows me over to my dresser, and I pull out the drawer with all my now really shrunken shorts. He picks up a pair and groans. “There’s no way in hell you’ll walk out of the house in these. I bet your ass hangs out, and if you bent over, someone could get a crotch shot.”

  I go to take the pair Bryce is holding just as Sarah and Graham enter the room. Graham’s eyebrows are raised, and he glances over at Bryce and then me. My hooker shorts are still in both of our hands. Bryce lets go and nods to Graham. A red-hot flame of mortification spreads across my cheeks and down my neck while my stomach knots.

  “What’s going on here?” Graham asks.

  If my blush didn’t already burn, it was smoldering now. “We were hanging out,” Bryce says.

  “Aw, maybe there is hope for you yet,” Sarah chimes in as she pulls Graham into our room. She takes a seat on my bed and starts kissing him. It’s one thing when this is at school. But seriously, on my bed?

  I storm out of my room.

  I wake up to my phone blaring, “Fear is a danger.” I hold my head and look around. Definitely not in my room. Definitely not in the tree house either. Crap! I’m in Bryce’s bed. I pat myself down and take comfort that all my clothes are still on—well, minus my shoes.

  Looking to my left, I notice that the sheets are untouched, and it’s empty. I shift to plant my feet on the floor, but they land on something lumpy, and it groans. I pull my feet back and peer over the side of the bed.

  Bryce is asleep on the floor. Why did he let me have his bed? I can’t remember last night very well. This is what happens when I’m really upset. I tend to blackout and forget things. I haven’t done it in years. And only a few people know I’ve done this. Bryce was never one of them.

  God, I hope I didn’t destroy anything. Or worse—embarrass myself by confessing how long I’ve liked Graham. The thought causes a wildfire blush to heat my face.

  I roll to the other side, about to make my exit, when I hear, “Smalls, give me a second.”

  Blinking, I look back and notice Bryce standing. He isn’t wearing a shirt, and oh my, he is cut in ways I never imagined. Not even on my wildest days. He never takes his shirt off at the lake, so of course I never knew about each of those ripples.

  I tear my eyes away from his sculpted frame and look down at the floor. His breath brushes my ear, and I shiver. “Let me check to see if my mom is up.”

  He steps out of the room, and I release the air I’d been holding in. “Oh my God.” My body needs to quit reacting to him like this. It’s Bryce. I do not have feelings for Bryce.

  So why is my heart pounding as if it’s on overdrive? And why did I feel utterly mortified checking him out while he had no shirt on? I mean, it’s normal for girls to check out guys, even guys they have no interest in, right?

  Bryce returns just as I’m about to make a mad dash out the door. I kind of don’t care if his mother is here and awake or not. I charge at him, and he puts his body in front of the exit, causing me to stop. I glance up and ask, “Will you move?”

  He steps aside and lets me pass. As I’m making my way toward the stairs, he says, “You’re welcome, by the way.”

  I don’t know if that was a sarcastic insult or he really meant it. Either way, I will not care. This has gotten way out of control. I need to get a grip on my feelings. The only way to do that is to confront my evil cousin.

  Chapter Twelve

  Bryce

  Madison practically stormed out of my house like it was on fire. At first, that kind of stung. I know I come off like the bad boy, the guy every parent sees as their worst nightmare for their daughter. But Madison should know after last night I’m nothing like that guy.

  So yes, when she ran away, it put a dent in my armor. Well, I’m not letting my defenses down again. Not for her. I’ve learned my lesson. She can kiss my ass if she expects me to feel sorry or worry about her or give her a place to lay low so she can gather her pathetic thoughts about Graham. Yup. I’m officially done.

  I light another cigarette. It’s the third one since I left to pick up Graham. He waves his hand in front of his face and snaps, “Dude, ease up. I know you don’t care what people think, but I’ve got a girlfriend. And she doesn’t like me smelling like an ashtray.”

  “Then get a fucking ride with Mads if it bothers you so much. Or walk your ass to school for all I care.” Last thing I need right now is Graham getting on me about my habits.

  He shakes his head. “What’s the deal with you and Madison, anyways? I thought you guys hated each other.”

  “I don’t hate Mads. She’s just a real bitch sometimes. Lately, though, she’s been a little nicer. Why do you even give a shit, anyways? You ditched us because you’re worried she’s obsessed with you.”

  “I don’t … care. Not really. It’s just … I don’t like you guys hanging out together.”

  I glare at him. “We’ve done it before. Only difference is you were always there before. So …”

  He shrugs as I pull into the school parking lot. “Exactly. I was always there. Now I’m not, and I guess I don’t like you two hanging out. That’s all.”

  I throw my car in park and flick my cigarette out the window. “This is the stupidest conversation we’ve ever had. And by the way, I don’t give a fuck if you don’t like the idea of me and Madison hanging out. You ditched her the moment you met Sarah. So what gives?” I’m seething. He better watch his next response, and he seems to know it.

  He mumbles, “I just don’t like it.”

  If he wasn’t my best friend, I’d deck him. Instead of cocking my fist back and wailing on him, I get out of my car and stomp off into school. Others must know I’m in a bad mood because even the freshmen, the people who probably don’t know where most of their classes are, dive out of my way. I storm right up to Madison’s locker. She’s the reason I
’m so mad. This is all her doing, and I’m going to make her suffer for it.

  Her friend Emily sees me first. Her big brown eyes bulge. Madison is clueless, digging in her locker, carrying on a conversation. I think Emily is in too much shock to pay attention, but I’m listening. Especially when she says, “And I woke up in his bed. Why do I keep ending up at Bryce’s place? He probably thinks I’m a lunatic.” She straightens and grips the side of her locker. “It’s so humiliating. Why do you look like you saw a ghost or something?” She shuts her locker, and her stare lands on me. Her cheeks turn bright apple-red. I admit I’m starting to like this look on her. Kind of suiting.

  She swallows. “Hi.”

  I give her a nod. “I let you stay because you were too upset to return home. I gave you my bed because I’m not a complete fucking asshole. But you’re welcome.”

  Mads’s jaw drops open, and Emily taps her shoulder. “I’m going to head to class, Maddy. I will catch up with you later.”

  Madison frowns at her friend. Once she’s gone, Mads says, “I am sorry. I didn’t … How long were you standing there?”

  “Long enough.” Her stare drops from mine. “So what, exactly, is humiliating?”

  “Everything. My behavior. Not … um … never mind. I’m sorry. I just keep popping up in your life unexpectedly, and I’m sure you have better … uh … things to do.”

  There’s something more to this than she’s saying. I just don’t push it. “Maybe you should talk to Graham. Get him to see you aren’t obsessed with him so you don’t feel the need to tag along after me or constantly keep me company. Because, honestly, you’re a little too whiny.”

  She blinks. And just nods her head once. Then she starts down the hall. I’m an asshole. Not only because of the statement. But because I follow her to her first class, which we do not have together.

  Madison sets those green eyes on me and snarls, “I got the point. There is no need to follow me.”

  She’s right. But for some reason, I can’t stop this sick cycle. The one that wants to be near her. The one that actually tries to get under her skin. Knowing, in the end, I’m going to get my nuts kicked in by this irritating yet addicting girl.

  Madison comes by my house around seven. “Sorry. Had to run,” she says as she barges into my room wearing yoga pants and a tight T-shirt. She looks amazing, even with her hair all pulled back into a ponytail and one of those ugly headbands wrapped around her head. Her forehead glistens with sweat, so I know she didn’t even bother changing.

  I need to stop observing her like this. She made it clear she wants nothing to do with me, and I’m not getting shot down by her again. My door flies open again right as Madison takes her spot on the floor. Her eyes widen a bit, and then she looks down at the carpet.

  Graham clears his throat and walks into my room. He’s done it a thousand times before—given the old “what’s up” nod and taken a seat at my computer desk. Only problem is, this time, he doesn’t cast his eyes on me or at a spot on the wall. No, his fucking stare is on Madison, and that sets my blood boiling.

  “So, how far did you all get?” Graham asks.

  “We didn’t,” I grumble.

  He looks over at me and then back down at Madison. “Is that true, or are you two screwing with me? You know, to punish me for bailing on you the other night?”

  “I just got here,” Madison says. “You know, because I had cross-country practice.”

  Graham opens his book with a smile. “Great! Well, how are we going to do this? Mads, you answer all the questions, and then we copy—”

  “Or we all work on the problems together, because I told you before I can’t keep carrying you knuckleheads.”

  Graham glares at me. “Are you going to say anything?”

  I shrug. “I think her idea is better. She’s not going to be with us when we get to college. And yeah, she knows this shit better than we do. But it’s not fair for her to keep carrying us.”

  Graham glances at Madison and then back at me. “All right.” He slams his book down on my desk. “What the hell has been going on with you two lately? Because I know damn well you don’t give two shits about learning this crap any more than me”—he looks from me over to Madison—“and you hate being here. So out with it now.”

  Madison’s cheeks turn bright red. I roll my eyes and shake my head. “Nothing is happening. I just don’t want to go off to college pretending I know something that I actually have no clue how to do. And she’s not going to be there to tell me what’s what.” I stand up and head to the door. “Even if there was something going on, you would have no say in it. It would be between her and me. But because we’re friends, Graham, I’m going to lay this all out for you. She’ll never want someone like me. So you don’t have to worry about Madison and I hooking up. What you should be worrying about is doing this fucking work and learning it, because I’ve got news for you: she’s not going to be a hop, skip, and a jump away for you either. When college rolls around, she won’t be there giving you the fucking answers.”

  I glance over at Madison, whose eyes are wide, her face completely red. And Graham has his mouth hanging open. One more second in this room and I’ll burst, so I leave.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Madison

  I’m a sweaty, disgusting mess. It made no difference before—I wasn’t going to get all cleaned up and decent for Bryce. That was before Graham showed up, though. Then everything instantly turned awkward.

  Graham glares at the door Bryce just walked out of. I tap my pencil against my notebook and stare at the list of problems we’re supposed to be working on. “Well, that was messed up,” Graham says.

  I glance over at him. “Seemed pretty normal to me.”

  “Are you serious? When has Bryce ever blown up on me and defended you of all people?”

  I shut my book and start shoving everything back into my book bag. I don’t have to take this kind of crap from Graham. He ditched me and treated me like I’ve got a contagious disease. He’s the one who changed.

  “Where are you going?” he snaps.

  I stand, slinging a strap over my right shoulder. “Home.”

  He reaches for me before I make it to the door. “You can’t bail on us. This is a group grade worth double points.”

  I narrow my stare. “You certainly didn’t care about that the other night. And honestly, I don’t give a crap if we fail. I’m going to request a transfer.”

  “Why? Did something happen between you and Bryce?”

  I jerk away from his grip. “No. Between you and me? Yeah. Him? No. You’re the one who has a problem. My art journal is no one’s freaking business, but your girlfriend seems to think it’s everyone’s damn business. So here’s a fact: I draw everything and anyone I find inspiration in. Even Bryce is in there. Don’t believe me? Go ask him. That doesn’t mean I want him or I’m in love with him.” I turn the knob. “And another thing: I thought we were friends. But clearly I was wrong about that, because you only want me when it’s convenient for you. So go screw yourself, Graham.” I yank the door open, and right there in the hallway is Bryce.

  His nostrils are flared, and he glares at me. “Where are you off to, Smalls?”

  “Home. I don’t feel very well. I’ll do the work and give it to you later. You two can just copy.”

  He steps into the room but takes me along with him. “Smalls, you aren’t leaving yet. If you don’t feel good, fine, I’ll let you go. But not if you’re just going to do the homework by yourself. That’s not right.” He guides me to the bed, and I follow him. Each and every step. I don’t know why. I take a seat on the edge of the bed, and he smiles. “Good.”

  He hands me a water bottle he had stuffed in the back of his loose jeans. He pulls out another and starts to take a drink. I start to take off my backpack when Graham snarls, “Did you bring me something to drink?”

  “No,” Bryce says in a cold tone. “You know where the fridge is. Go get something.”

  I
notice the exchange between both boys and swallow. What’s going on with them? Why are they acting like this? I almost say, “I thought you two were best friends,” but Bryce takes a seat next to me, and I let my comment go.

  Graham huffs. “Fine. You two want to be all chummy now, great. Don’t tell me a thing about it. You know it wasn’t that long ago we used to all be friends. It also wasn’t that long ago you two couldn’t stand each other.”

  I rise from the bed. “You know what, this isn’t working out. Tomorrow morning I’m going to request a new group. You two … you two are on your own.” I face Bryce. His fists are clenched. “Thanks for the water.” I gather my things and leave.

  I’m not even halfway down the hall when the yelling reaches me. Bryce is shouting at Graham. Graham is hollering back. I shake my head and walk down the stairs to the front door. Mrs. Matthews spots me before I can exit. “Madison?”

  “Hi, Mrs. Matthews.”

  “Hi. Are you done with homework so quick?”

  “Um … not exactly,” I start, but then Bryce yells, “You know what? I don’t fucking care what you think!”

  Mrs. Matthews’s eyes widen. “I better go see what’s going on upstairs.”

  “Okay. Bye, Mrs. Matthews.” While she heads upstairs, I slip out the door.

  After I finish all my homework, I take a seat by my window. I look at the house next door and notice Bryce is pacing around his room. A hand runs through his hair, and it almost looks torturous.

  An ache settles inside me. This is somehow all my fault. I pull out my art journal and sigh. This is what started all this trouble between them. My stupid hobby. I should stick to running. I riffle through the pages and begin tearing them out.

  Once I toss the pages into the trash, I turn in for the night. I pull the covers up over my shoulders and turn to face the wall. It’s pink. Even in the dark, the damn thing looks bright and annoying. I’d face another wall, but Sarah got her way and did all my walls in this awful color. She wouldn’t let me have even one in just white. Like in everything else, my wants or opinions didn’t matter. Not after the snot-nosed princess cried.