Текст книги "Bad Reputation"

Автор книги: K. B. Nelson

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Текущая страница: 2 (всего у книги 13 страниц)

2

There is nothing more savory than sipping a mimosa in the early hours of a warm spring Sunday. If that says anything about me, it screams that I try my best to enjoy life. It’s a ride that can be cut short, or prolonged into creeping misery to the count of a hundred years. It’s not often that mortality flirts with perfect timing.

Even in my young age, with the heft of twenty-two years under my belt, I can’t help but to think about the tragedy of the number twenty-seven. All the good people die young, and that’s how I know I’ll fumble across the finish line at more than a century of life. I’m not a good person. I don’t deserve to live a life worth grieving if it should be cut short.

I’m parked on a black stool that is curled up next to a tall tabletop that passes for a college-sized version of a breakfast nook. It’s the same routine every morning. I sit alone and stare out the french doors, looking into the garden that lines the fence of the patio.

Today is different. The plants on the patio, and the trees beyond the wooden fence are in full bloom. Today has purpose, and it’s with purpose that I carry on. The game began the moment Brick and I made that bet. The best is my purpose. I’m nobody when I’m not actively engaged in the art of manipulation and deceit. I’m hollow without it.

And I don’t deserve to die young.

“Good morning,” Brick says from behind me, shattering any sense of peace. “Woke up with a key in my hand.”

I spin the stool in a half-circle and face him. His tattoos are on full display as he stands in nothing but tight, black boxer briefs and sneakers. His jeans are draped across his arm.

“You were free to leave at any time.” I smile and take a sip of my mimosa. “Provided you woke your lazy ass up.”

“That’s okay, sweetheart.” He steps to me and places a soft kiss against the top of my head. He lowers his mouth against my ear and I’m hit with warm air and morning breath. “I just left five hours of an erections worth of a mess on your bed.”

“Really?” I reach forth and tug at the lining of his briefs then pull him close. I make a deliberate attempt to steal his attention so that his eyes rest on me as I hook my fingers into his underpants. Swiftly, I swipe my drink off the table and dump the alcoholic orange juice onto his flaccid cock.

“Fuck, that’s cold,” he yelps and jumps backward. “You’re a wicked woman.”

Tell me something I don’t know. “Were you planning on getting dressed before you leave?”

“Wasn’t going to.” He reaches down and adjusts himself through the thin fabric.

I swivel on the stool and pour another glass of orange juice into my empty glass. “I’d suggest you put your jeans on before you walk out that door. You’re in the middle of campus and I would hate for the entire block to think you pissed your pants.”

He pushes his tongue against his cheek and smiles in simple defeat. “Have a splendid day, Apple.”

“Don’t worry about me.” I fill the remainder of my glass with moscato, watching the alcohol sink into the pool of vitamin C. “I have quite the eventful afternoon planned.”

“Really?” He bends to push his feet through jeans, his abs folding over in the process. The morning light streaming through the patio doors looks magnificent on him. “Care to share?”

“Have you already forgotten about our bet?”

When he’s done buttoning his jeans, he strokes the side of my face with his thumb. “You’re in too deep, Apple.”

I pull away from him and jump to my feet, taking great care to avoid spilling my drink in the process. “I’ll be laying the groundwork this morning. While you continue to watch your beloved virgin from a distance, I’ll be sucking Mr. Moon’s cock.”

He shakes his head in mock disgust. “Must you be so vulgar?”

“Don’t pretend like it bothers you.”

“Doesn’t bother.” He shrugs. “Just a little unbecoming. Don’t you think?”

I place my palms on the crux of his shoulders and spin him around. “Don’t let your double standards hit you in the ass on the way out.”

He nods and steps through a doorframe where there used to be a door. I follow him through the living room and to the front door. He places his hand on the knob and pulls the door open. “Don’t let your heart get broke.” He turns back to me and his face is full of intent, a fragile reminder that underneath all of the bullshit, he’s the only one who has ever cared for me. “Heartbreak looks good on you, like every other man or woman in this world. But I prefer my Apple when she has a bite to her, so let’s try to keep it that way.”

I said he cared for me. I didn’t say it wasn’t in his own fucked up way that only I could understand. I force an easy smile. “I hope you’re ready to admit defeat.”

“That’s a word that isn’t in my vocabulary, sweetie.”

“Good luck hunting.” My easy smile curls into something much more devious.

“I make my own luck.” Like a mirror, he throws his brand of devious right back at me. “You, of all people, should know that.“

“Are we going to keep throwing jabs, or are you going to get the hell out of my house so I can get on with my day?”

“I have an appointment with a certain young blonde woman, so I should probably dart.”

“I’m prone to agree.” I push him against the chest and out the door. He spins on his foot and begins the short walk to his black sports car. But I have one last game to play. “Brick?” I ask with a pout of my lips. Like an addict craving his next fix, he comes running back to me.

“Yeah?”

Before he can finish his one-word inquisition, I tip my glass and pour another perfectly good concoction onto his jean-clad groin.

“Wicked, wicked woman.”

“Tell me something I don’t know.” The last thing he sees is my victorious smile as I close the door on his face.

3

True Love Revolution.

Somebody fucking kill me.

Sunshine, rainbows and unicorns reign supreme under the afternoon sky. Everyone glows in a way only the ignorant could. If ignorance is bliss, then it’s also its own makeup brand. Sit back in a park one day—it can be any day—and the people who are the happiest are probably the same ones living in the shadows of their own self-induced shelter. They don’t know this world for what it really is.

Abstinence—the mission of those who converge every Sunday to celebrate their purity with their comrades—is great in theory. In practice, abstinence is a dark mark on the freedom of our souls. It’s a beautiful lie that fades into shades of doubt when a bird spreads her wings for the first time. When she takes to the sky, the world below becomes distant and unknown. Everything she thought she knew evaporates with just one thrust of a cock.

Everyone should learn to fly.

And I love to give them that extra push.

True Love Revolution—like most organizations on campus—has a faculty sponsor. Jensen Moon watches over these lost souls, and today I must integrate myself with the herd of sheep. I’ll fool them into thinking I’m one of them, and like the best wolves, I’ll lure my prey into a trap come nightfall.

I’m one of the first to arrive. It’ll be easier to blend in this way. It’s a psychology thing. Instead of coming in late, where the attention will be squared on me, I’ll already be there waiting. I take a seat into one of the twenty-or-so white foldable chairs. I make sure to pick a seat beside someone who is already there.

To my left is a youngish girl who looks to be a freshman. I have never seen her before, but it’s a large campus so that’s not anything out of the norm. Her hair color matches mine, but is cut shorter, barely reaching the top of her breasts that are hidden behind a white cashmere sweater—how appropriate.

Her hands are folded in her lap, her two thumbs tangling with one another. This is her first time here, I reckon. Coming from a sheltered life, she’s nervous about conversing with strangers on the topic of sex—even if the conversation revolves around abstaining from it.

“Is this your first time?’ I ask for confirmation. The more I know about the people that surround me, the better. Knowledge is power.

“Yeah.” She cracks a nervous smile. “My parents told me I needed to get out of the dorm and meet some new people.”

“And you came here?” My brow furrows in shock that this is the social setting in which someone chooses to go for the purpose of meeting new people. “It’s a great group.”

“I’m Cece.” She reaches her hand to mine.

I hesitate out of habit, but quickly reciprocate and shake her hand. “I’m Apple.”

“Oh my God,” she blurts out and raises her hand to her mouth. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Do what?” I ask with genuine confusion.

Her tongue swipes her lip and she scans the growing crowd around us, as if to make sure nobody heard her. “Take the lord’s name in vain.”

Whew. I’m in deeper than I thought. “It’s okay. I won’t tell anyone.”

“I was just shocked, I guess.” She leans shyly against her shoulder. “I thought Apple was just something celebrities named their children.”

“No celebrity upbringing here.” I raise my hand to the tune of I solemnly swear. “Born in a trailer. Grew up in a trailer.” Why am I telling her this? I don’t tell anyone this.

“You grew up in a trailer? I never would have guessed.”

“Thanks…”

From across the circle of white chairs, I spot my target and begin the process of tuning Cece out. On this warm spring day, Jensen Moon has a cool stride. His hand, ornamented with a sparkling silver watch, is stuffed into the pocket of his grey slacks. His white oxford shirt is rolled to the crease of his elbow, and contrasts sharply against the dark, tan skin of his body.

Without fuss or showmanship, he slips onto a padded seat with perfect posture. He’s always in command. He makes the rules and I’m craving to break them.

Once he’s in position, most of the chairs around me quickly fill up. Everyone wears white. Everyone except me.

“You’re new here,” Jensen says from across the way and crosses his right leg over his left. “You’re not wearing white.”

These people jump straight into business. No prologue required. I clear my throat before speaking. “I didn’t get the memo.”

“That’s by design.” His hand massages his ankle where a brief strip of skin is exposed. “In foreign places, such as that of a new group, newbies aren’t fond of talking much. Here at True Love Revolution, it’s important that everyone has a voice, and since you’re not wearing white, we all know to take time out of our conversations today to ask, who are you?”

“Shit,” I mumble under my breath and then recite a quick, internal prayer that nobody heard me. One of the rules of master manipulation is that you must always be prepared. Today, I came unprepared. I don’t like being caught off guard. “I…”

“Start with your name.”

Does he really not remember me? “I’m Apple Malloy.”

“Yeah…” Well, that’s settled. The look on his face screams, how could I forget? “Tell me, Apple. What does purity mean to you?” His eyes pass over me, full of equal parts judgment and intrigue.

Purity means zilch to me. Of course, I can’t say that to this group of sheep. They would retrieve pitchforks from their asses and chase me to the far side of campus where I would be forced to hide in the janitorial closet until the witch-hunt is over. Once I would creep out of that ten by ten cell, they would burn me at the stake.

Instead, I throw out the most tactful response I can think of. “I haven’t actually decided yet.” This is the perfect response. It opens many different doors and routes to victory, while closing off none.

He sighs, uncrosses his legs, and places a firm hand on each of his thighs. He begins to address the rest of the group and I begin to zone out, daydreaming about a boy that sits two seats down from Jensen.

He’s as young as Cece, but hardly looks innocent. Under the thin fabric of his cotton tee, I see the faint outline of a thick tribal tattoo. A part of me wonders if he’s here for the same reason I am. If I hadn’t already market my target—Jensen—Mr. Brown Eyes would be in for one hell of a ride.

He catches my gaze and stares right back. When he bites into his lip in the most seductive way you can do such a thing, I’m forced to avert my attention away. Stay focused, Apple. Stay focused.

When the meeting is adjourned, I stick around so I can continue to lay the framework for my conquest. Jensen is occupied with two of the pure ones, so I look around for someone to keep me busy while I wait.

Everything has to seem like an accident. If I rush up to Jensen the moment he’s done giving pointers to these girls, it’ll look calculated. I give my hair a quick fix and make a purposeful beeline to Mr. Brown Eyes. He’s in the process of making light conversation with some dark-haired brunette who appears as if she’s too deep into the abstinence occult—she has a cross necklace draped across her chest and a pair of cross earrings dangling from her lobes.

I tap him on the shoulder and he cranes his neck around, biting into his lip again. “One sec,” he whispers.

I’m not a patient person. I’ll admit that much. I raise my hand to tap him again, but he turns around before I can connect my finger to his shoulder.

“I’m Apple,” I say without hesitation. “And you are?”

“Teddy.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I see the two girls that were talking to Jensen walking away. I hold my finger to Teddy. “Hold that thought.”

He might be the sexiest freshman on campus, but #priorities. I rush over to Jensen when he has his back turned and he’s walking away. Just like I had done with Teddy, the brown-eyed stud, I tap Jensen on the shoulder.

He turns around to see me and lets out a frustrated sigh.

“Damn,” I say out loud, taken aback by his lack of enthusiasm at seeing me.

“What are you doing here?”

“Well… I’m not here for the free food.” I laugh, desperate to dissipate the tension in the air. If he’s going to become annoyed with me for no apparent reason, this is going to be a lot harder than I thought. Unfortunately, he’s not having it and crosses his arms and pushes his tongue against his cheek. I switch tactics, from comedy to soul-searching. “I don’t want to sound like a loser, but it’s been hard to find people to connect to on a spiritual level.” Yeah, I did that. I stole Cece’s mantra.

He leans in close. “I don’t know how to say this with any tact, so I’m just going to spit it out.” He gets closer still, so nobody around can hear him. “I know you. You have a bad reputation and I cannot figure out why you’re here.”

“I think you have me confused with someone else.”

“It’s not hard to forget the girl who would always sit in the back row when she actually had the courtesy to show up to class. It is hard, however, to forget the girl who was giving oral to a fellow student during a mid-term exam.”

My eyes bulge and I just know that the look on my face isn’t too different from the look that’ll be on Cece’s face when she learns what the word cunninlingus means. Shock. “You saw that?”

“And I didn’t report it. So, let’s be honest. I deserve that much. Why are you here?”

“You have pretty eyes,” I say, taking notice of them for the first time. They’re the perfect shade of Blue, fit for an oceanic backdrop. They’re powerful and deep, swirling with hints of a past unknown. “They’re beautiful,” I continue, being honest but also working my magic.

“Why are you here?” His face is stern, his lips clenched tight together.

“Inner peace is so hard to find…” I run out of steam long before the bullshit train can even depart the station. “Uhm…”

“You’re wasting my time.” He gives a slight nod of his head, before turning to hightail his ass away from me.

“Fine,” I shout and I wait for him to turn around. He doesn’t. He’s too smart and I’m going to have to rethink my entire strategy. This whole I wanna be a saint act isn’t going to get me in his pants, let alone get him to the point where I’m able to break his heart. The only thing that’s currently at risk of being broken is my ego. I rush to him until I’m in perfect stride with him.

He shakes his head in annoyance. “Oh Good. You’re back.”

“I’m going to come out and say it,” I say through ragged breaths. I’m flustered and it’s taking my breath away. “I’m full of shit.” That stops him in his tracks. His interest is officially piqued. “I don’t give a damn about purity or Jesus or two out of the three Jonas Brothers.”

“Jonas—“

“Nick managed to escape the occult.”

“I have places to be, Apple.”

“I need your class to graduate and I know it’s unsavory to ask—“

“I’m not going to sleep with you for a retroactive A.”

That hadn’t even crossed my mind, but I’m going to add it to the to-do list. If I can get a boost to my GPA from this endeavor then fuck yeah. “That’s not even close to the direction I was heading. You’re going straight to Texas there, and I’m standing up here in freezing-cold Canada.” I shove my hand into my pocket and swivel on my feet. “Like I said, I need your class to graduate. And I want to graduate on time, so please don’t tell me I have to take it in the summer.”

“You’ll have to take it in the summer.” He nods as if we’ve reached the conclusion of our conversation and prepares to leave me standing in the middle of the quad.

“I’ll do whatever it takes.”

He looks over his shoulder and smiles. “We’re back to that again, huh?”

“Not that.” I rush around to the front of him and pace backward. I have no intention of not getting what I came here for. “I know it’s past the deadline to take an incomplete and finish the coursework.”

“That’s an astute observation.” His brow furrows in the most patronizing way possible. “Color me shocked that you’ve read the student handbook.”

“I’ve never opened the damn thing.” I smile, because I’m too cute. Way too cute. I straighten my expression into one more in line with seriousness. “My advisor informed me of the rules and all the blah, blah, blah. She also said that deadlines are like Jello.”

“They only taste good with alcohol?” Bless his sarcastic soul. If he wasn’t standing in my path to victory over Brick, he could have been a keeper.

“You’re full of surprises, sarcasm and wit and I can’t tell the difference when you speak.”

“Get to the point.”

“Right,” I say and throw my hand to my chest. “Walking in reverse is quite the workout. That’s code for you should stop walking.”

He comes to a stop and shakes his wrist, showing off that beautiful watch. “You have a minute.”

“I’m asking you to consider playing loose with this whole deadline issue. It would mean the world to me and I’ll do anything.”

“I can’t help you.”

“Please.” I throw my hand to his chest, getting a handful of muscle in the process. Wow, I say to myself. This is going to be so much better than I had dreamed. I’d prefer to skip over this tirade of menial banter and skip to the undressing portion of the event. But, the setup is a part of the game. “Look, I know you think I’m a spoiled, entitled, occasionally racy brat, but the truth is that I can’t afford another semester. Not even one more class. My parents are broke and my scholarships have dried up after getting an ‘F’ last semester of which you had nothing to do with.”

“I’ll think about it,” he huffs and crosses his arms.

“That would mean the world to me.”

“I have conditions.” He looks away and shakes his head, as if he can’t believe he’s even considering this. “My assistant, Eve, left school last month with no explanation—“

Oh, shit. Eve was Brick’s last conquest. The girl he seduced and destroyed before he ever set his sights on Tyra Young. This is the very fucking definition of coming full-circle.

“You’re not qualified to be a teacher’s assistant, but you could help me grade papers and report attendance. Stuff like that. We’ll work around your schedule.” He exhales and cracks a wide smile, showcasing sparkling white teeth that would give Brick a run for his money. “A blowjob or two wouldn’t hurt either.”

I let out a sigh of relief. “So much easier—“

“I’m kidding,” he snarls and shakes his head again. “Something tells me I’m going to regret this.”

That’s for fucking certain.

4

FOUR YEARS AGO

Freshman year seems like yesterday. I was still a girl afraid of my own shadow, terrified to let anyone in. Who could blame me? I tried to put prom night—and Mason—behind me, but that wasn’t as easy as it should have been.

Mason was wrong. Our lives weren’t heading in such different directions. Imagine my shock and horror to discover he was in my Intro to Psych class. Thankfully, that was a class in a lecture hall with a few hundred other students. I hid away from him in that gargantuan room, preferring to hug the back wall.

Each day, after class, I would become one with the herd of students and bolt from class. One day, during a particularly speedy retreat I ran straight into a man. He was unaffected by the mass of my body colliding with his, but in the most cliché way possible, my books went flying across the floor.

He had a wicked, but charming smile as he bent down to help me assemble my pile of books. When the job was done, and all my textbooks were assembled in a transportable stack, he looked deep into my eyes and extended his hand.

“I’m Brick,” he said.

I smiled like a damn idiotic fool. “I—I’m Apple.” I reached forward expecting a handshake, but instead he pulled me to my feet like a true gentlemen.

“Has anybody ever told you that you’re beautiful?”

“Sure,” I said with an uneven shrug.

“Good for them.” He nodded, never letting his gaze wander away from mine. “Do you want to get coffee or something?”

I knew better. I really did. There’s no way I could have went through what I did with Mason and not have learned my lesson. But the thing about lessons, especially the ones you learn in high school, is that with time and age, they all begin to fade away.

I was blinded by his hospitality. I was blinded by his promising eyes. I was blinded in the way he made promises without uttering anything that resembled the word.

There was a table between us, stacked with coffee and textbooks.

He had a suaveness to him, like he didn’t have a care in the world. It was an admirable quality, and one that I was jealous of. My life was full of worry. Between the anxiety of exams, and the anxiety of always wondering if the guy beside me was secretly judging me, I was always on edge.

I wasn’t on edge with him. I should have known better. I guess I did. It didn’t matter, though, because Brick was more than some random stranger. He was a thing of wonder, so full of something I couldn’t describe or succinctly put into words.

He had to feel the same way about me, as well. Otherwise, I would have been nothing more than one of his victims scribbled away in a long-kept journal.

“Can I be honest?” he asked with a furrowed brow, the kind of inquisition that seemed to come from the heart. He didn’t wait for me to respond. “I’m not a good guy.”

“Sure you are,” I said in the most naïve of tones. I was enamored and beholden by a man I had built up in my mind.

“No,” he said grimly, “I’m not.”

“What are you trying to say?”

“Running into you was no accident. The entire thing was planned.”

“Planned?”

“Like the best magic tricks” He leaned across the table and started to whisper, “The plan was to make you fall in love with me and then I would rip your heart out.”

I was taken aback, and shook my head in disbelief. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because the truth is freeing, and after knowing you for less than an hour, I see something in you.”

“You’re an asshole.” I scooped my books off the table and into the pit of my arm. “But you already know that.” I thought it was fate that I had ran into him, and it was destiny as I turned to flee, pushing through the glass doors of the campus café.

“You’re damaged goods,” he said as he followed me out the doors and onto the busy sidewalk. “Anyone can see that.”

“Oh, thank you,” I screamed as I turned to face him. “Just what every girl wants to hear.”

“It’s not about what you want.” He stepped toward me and gestured with his hands. “It’s about what you need.”

“And what do I need?”

“Someone to watch over you. Someone to guide you.”

I scoffed incredulously. “I think I’ll have to take a pass.” And with that, I found myself fleeing again, walking as fast as I could back toward the dorms.

But he followed me, staying the course right beside my side. “You’ve been hurt by some guy.”

“Who hasn’t?”

“I haven’t.” He laughed, but I didn’t return the laughter at his lame joke. “Let me in, and I promise you will never have your heart broken by a man again.”

“My Spidey-sense is tingling and you’re a creep.”

“There’s a fire to you, Apple.” He seemed so sure of himself, like a pastor preaching to his disciples. “It’s beautiful and it burns hotter than revenge. You just don’t know it yet.”

“Please,” I shouted and came to a halt at a busy crosswalk. “Please, continue telling me more about me. You don’t know me.”

“I do, though. More than you could ever know yourself.”

“And the award for the most clichéd goes to Brick Valmont.”

“Men are monsters, sweetheart.” He shook his head in affirmation. “You know what they say about fighting fire with fire? Well, you fight monsters with monsters.”

“I’m listening, but only because I don’t have a choice.”

“I mean…” He pointed to the line of cars cruising through the intersection. “You could always walk out into traffic.”

“You have until that light turns red.”

He took a deep, hard breath before he pressed on. I prepared myself to ignore everything he said. “I’m a user and an abuser. I get what I want, when I want it. I will never be a victim to anyone in this world again.” He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans, and I found myself drawn into what he was saying. “I think that speaks to you, and I think you’re understanding me.”

I knew I had to resist his indescribable charms, but I also knew it would be more difficult than it had seemed. The devil could sell you a nightmare and you’d think it was a dream. I was torn between utter night terrors and the promise of pearly gates. “Are you in love with me or something?” That’s all I could think to ask. Nothing made sense, even if the wheels of my mind—and my heart—were turning with his apparent false promises.

“No.” He smiled just like the devil. “I’m in love with who you’re going to be.”

“And tell me, who am I going to be?”

He leaned in close and whispered, “Let me show you.”

“No.” I shook my head and took a long step back, almost pushing myself against the flow of traffic. “I don’t think so.”

He just stared at me. It’s almost as if he knew I would change my mind—but fuck, he seemed to know everything else. “The light’s red now.”

“And?”

“You’re still standing here.”