The QB Bad Boy and Me Read online

  “Would you look at that.” Drayton stared at his blank cell phone screen with a mischievous grin. “My plans just got canceled. Looks like I can join you.”

  “Cool. Dallas, you might want to change that shirt.” Nathan headed inside, leaving Drayton and me in a stare down.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” I asked him, ignoring the fact that his gaze was lingering on the aforementioned shirt that I was well aware needed to be changed. But it’s a bra. We all know girls wear them.

  “Staying for a barbecue and beers.” He shrugged, finally meeting my eyes. “What else?”

  “Why? Since when do we hang out?”

  “I’m actually staying to talk to your brother. I bet he has some great advice for the field.” He smiled a lazy smile before leaning in close, and I could feel his breath on my neck, smell his smooth skin. “I wouldn’t change your shirt. It looks just right to me.”

  Chapter 2

  I’d resorted to hiding in my bedroom, FaceTiming with Gabby. Her beautiful face hung on every word, eyes wide with an eager expression behind her glasses.

  “They’re talking about football. Like, extensively. While they stand around the grill like a couple of pals from way back,” I said.

  “I don’t care what they’re talking about,” she scoffed, wrapping a long, dark ringlet around her finger. “Drayton Lahey is in your house. Having barbecue.”

  “I know,” I groaned. “It’s like a horror movie out there.”

  “You think he’s hot?” Gabby asked.

  “Yes. That doesn’t change the fact that he’s a di—”

  “Dallas?” The knock on my door was followed by Drayton peeking through the gap, searching the room until he found me in the corner under my window. “Food’s ready.”

  Hands in his pockets, leaning against the doorframe with a relaxed smile, he looked as though it wasn’t the most bizarre thing in the world to be standing in my bedroom.

  “Is that hi—”

  “Uhshutupgoodbyeseeyoutomorrow!” I hung up the call, stood up, and smoothed out the black tank top I’d changed into after the water bottle incident.

  Drayton watched me with a smug smile. “Talking about me?”

  “Actually, yes,” I confessed. “Apparently, there was some rumor going around about you and Mara Linden.”

  I dropped her name because, unfortunately for me, being on the cheer team meant being ear to a bunch of meaningless gossip twenty-four seven, whether I wanted to hear it or not. I knew for a fact he’d slept with her at a Fourth of July pool party at the beginning of summer.

  “She’s telling everyone that your penis is tiny and your stroke game is weak.” The look that seized his features was so good that I was tempted to take a picture. His arrogant expression dropped, and, in its place, mortification bloomed as he visibly swallowed. “The cheer team have been talking about it all day.”

  That was a half truth. They had been talking about it all day, but more in praise, because apparently, he was as incredible as he looked. Of course he was.

  I gave him a sympathetic smile and tapped his arm as I walked past, ignoring the impulsive desire to keep my hand on his biceps a little longer than appropriate. “Smells good. I’m starving.”

  The aroma of barbecue wafted down the hallway and I followed it out the back door to the yard, where Nathan had arranged the food in the middle of the picnic table. We ate like this all the time; neither of us cooked much, and the grill was easy and convenient. What wasn’t normal was the buff star quarter-

  back of my school dragging out a seat and sitting down like he was part of the family.

  Drayton had clearly recovered from the blow to his ego, and was now leaning back in the chair, taking a swig of his beer, and winking in my direction. The fact that he knew I was uncomfortable and was enjoying it made me want to slap the bottle straight out of his hand.

  “Seriously, why are you still here?” I scowled, leaning over the table. “I refuse to believe that you have nothing better to do.”

  “Dallas.” Nathan gave me a wide-eyed warning as he sat down. “What is your problem tonight?”

  “My problem is that you don’t even know this guy. He goes to my school, but you invited him to stay for dinner. It’s weird.”

  “I always invite your friends to stay if they’re here around dinner-

  time.” Nathan cut into his steak. “You’ve never had a problem with it before.”

  “What friends?” I recoiled in confusion. “I have Gabby, and that’s it.”

  “You occasionally have guys here when I come home.” Nathan shrugged. “I could be a protective big brother, but instead I invite them for dinner. How rude of me.”

  He thought that I didn’t know that he invited them to hang around so that he could interrogate them and put on the scary-big-brother-I-will-kill-you act. I exhaled and noticed that Drayton was watching me with a curious, confident expression.

  The meal consisted of silence from me; I sent Gabby a steady flow of updates, and she kept demanding Snapchats of the hunk across the table. There was no chance that I’d get caught taking pictures of him, though—I’d never live it down. Drayton and Nathan yammered on about the upcoming football season and a couple of away games that the Archwood Wolves had scheduled.

  Away games weren’t so bad. The cheerleading squad loved them because they meant a night away from home in a nice hotel. And while the rules would say that everyone obeyed curfew and stayed in their assigned rooms, I knew most everyone got up to no good. For me however, I slept, cheered, ate, and barred all attempts at communication. I’d never had any interest in making friends, considering how desperately I wanted to leave next year.

  Drayton and I cleared the dishes. The sun had gone down, and the solar lights planted around the edge of the lawn provided a soft glow.

  “Cheer, can I ask you something?”

  “Cheer?” I peeped over my shoulder as he followed me into the house.

  He grinned but offered no further explanation for the nickname. “Where are your parents?”

  “They died in a car accident when I was nine. Nathan was seventeen,” I explained with my back to him as I filled the sink with hot, soapy water. My parents’ death had hurt—it still hurt and I missed them like crazy—but the topic didn’t kill me to talk about. “My grandmother, Nan, helped Nathan look after me until she died when I was fifteen.”

  “Shit. That blows. Are you okay?” He leaned against the counter, exhaling deeply.

  “I’m fine.” I gave him an apprehensive look. “They’ve been gone a long time.” It would have been comical to see his concern if it wasn’t so weird. “You can go home now,” I said, offering him an out so that he didn’t feel obligated to hang around after he’d eaten. I always felt rude if I dashed too fast after a meal at someone’s house.

  I scrubbed the dishes but noticed that he wasn’t moving. I kept my head down and refused to look up at the boy whom I’d considered to be transparent. I wasn’t ready to admit that he might not be such an ass after all. He suddenly pushed off the counter and I breathed a sigh of relief, thinking that he might be leaving—until he grabbed a dish towel and started drying the dishes.

  “What are you doing?” I asked as he whistled an upbeat tune and toweled down the plate in his hands. “Seriously, this night has been weird enough without Drayton Lahey doing dishes in my kitchen. You are aware we’ve never even talked before?”

  “Don’t say my name like that,” he ordered. “Call me Dray. And whose fault is the lack of conversation? You’re antisocial as hell.”

  “No, I’m not,” I stammered. “I’m just . . . reserved.”

  “Reserved, huh?” He continued toweling the dishes with a smug, disbelieving grin. “Are you reserved with the dudes here in the afternoons?”

  I’d hoped that he hadn’t caught that earlier dig from Nathan�
�who still hadn’t returned from the “phone call” that he’d heard ten minutes ago. “That’s none of your business.”

  “Come on, I’m curious,” he said.

  “I have a question of my own.” I slipped another plate into the dish rack and hoped that that was a smooth enough transition to a new subject. “Does Emily know that you’re here?”

  “Emily and I aren’t together, Cheer,” he said. “She doesn’t need to know.”

  “Does she know that you’re not together?” I asked with mild amusement, watching his chiseled back as he sauntered over to the cabinet and put the plate away. “Because it seems that she’s under the impression that you two are very much together.”

  “I just leave her to it, you know? I’ve never been interested, but she’s got her own shit going on. Kind of feel bad for her, so if she wants to fantasize a relationship, whatever.”

  I wondered if he would elaborate on what she had going on but he continued with the last of the dishes and kept his lips sealed. It made me smile and I realized that I might have been too quick to judge. He wasn’t as bad as his behavior would have you believe. We finished the washing up in comfortable quiet, only sharing quick glances, as if we shared a secret, which I guessed we did now. I doubted that anyone was going to find out that he’d spent the evening here. He slipped his phone out of his pocket while I emptied the sink.

  “I guess I better head off,” he mumbled, reading the screen before he slid it back into his pocket. He glanced around for a moment and then his green gaze settled on me again. “Tell your brother that I said thanks for dinner.”

  “Sure,” I said.

  I walked him to the front door and leaned on the frame as he stepped out into the dark night. I admired the motorcycle parked beside the curb; the incandescent beam of the streetlamp shone down on the sleek machine. I gave Drayton a once over, appreciating his toned arms, but more than that, finding myself concerned for his flawless, exposed skin. “Is it safe to wear a tank top when you ride?”

  “I don’t know.” He grinned and rested a hand on the doorframe beside me as he leaned in. “Should we go inside and find out?”

  “Wow,” I laughed and gave him a light shove in the chest. “That was smooth. A for effort.”

  He laughed and moved back again. “My jacket is in the seat compartment. With the helmet. I always wear protection.”

  “Let me guess,” I said, refusing to humor his innuendo. “It’s leather.”

  “It sure is. For safety purposes,” he called over his shoulder while heading down the footpath, “not because it gives me points for cool. Good night, Cheer.”

  I watched him pull on his jacket, which fit him like a glove, and almost wanted to question the nickname again. But I didn’t. He swapped his backward cap for his helmet, and the tinted visor reflected the streetlights above as he swung his leg over the seat. The engine roared to life, loud and obnoxious. Still, I couldn’t help but watch with subtle admiration as he left. The entire night had been unexpected, but I wasn’t disappointed with its outcome. Not disappointed at all.

  Chapter 3

  Tuesday morning I decided not to waste any time getting the ding in my car fixed, so I took it down to the body shop first thing and asked Gabby to follow me so that I’d have a ride to school.

  “What’s the damage, Harry?”

  Harry was a sweet old guy I’d worked for a few summers ago doing odd jobs like cleaning and sweeping for a little extra cash, before I started working at the diner.

  “Well, darling,” he said as he adjusted the oil-stained cap on his head while he examined the dented bumper, “I’ll do it for four hundred and fifty. That’s as cheap as I can go.”

  It was a very good deal. The repair would have cost anywhere up to a grand at any other shop. Once I paid Harry, I was left with an extra hundred, and contemplated getting myself a new outfit. But I immediately squashed the idea, knowing that I’d give the money back to Drayton.

  “Thank you, Harry. You’re a lifesaver!”

  “You can have her back by Thursday.” He patted the top of the car before signaling Tony, one of the young panel beaters, to fetch the keys and move it inside.

  “Thanks, Harry!” I called as I ran across the road to Gabby’s waiting car.

  “Have you still not fixed the air conditioning in this thing?” I waved my hand in front of my face, gasping for some cold air as Gabby sat in the driver’s seat taking selfies. “Nothing Breaks Like a Heart” by Miley Cyrus and Mark Ronson crackled through the small speakers.

  The air conditioning in Gabby’s little Mazda hatchback had carked it at the beginning of the summer. Even now, toward the end of the season, the need for fresh air was high. The windows were rolled down, but the breeze was just as warm, so it really didn’t help at all.

  “I remember why we used my car all summer now,” I groaned, wiping at the sweat beads on my forehead. I gripped the front of my T-shirt and fanned it in and out.

  “You think you have problems with the heat?” She pointed at her thick head of curls tied into a bun. “You know what heat does to this Afro? It gets so damn big that it needs its own area code. I have six different products going on in this situation.”

  I giggled. “Yeah, you migh—”

  “Ahh!” Gabby cut me off with an excited squeal as she clutched the steering wheel and bounced in her seat. “I just remembered! Tell me about last night. Like, everything.”

  “I already have.”

  “No, no, no! Last night you said it was ‘uneventful.’ I refuse to believe that having Drayton Lahey over for dinner could possibly be uneventful.”

  “Honestly, he and Nathan talked about football all night. He helped me with the dishes, and then he left. He did tell me that he isn’t really in a relationship with Emily.”

  I left out the part about his not-so-subtle flirting. I didn’t need a headache right before school.

  “Oh.” Her brows moved up and down suggestively as she pulled into a parking space. “He made it clear that he’s available, did he?”

  “It’s not that deep, Gabs. There was nothing to it.”

  We hopped out of the car and met at the tail end while she sighed with a dreamy expression. My best friend might have been overexcited and reading into things that weren’t there, but I adored her enthusiasm for love.

  “I can’t believe you spent the evening with Drayton Lahey.”

  “Please don’t idolize him.” We linked arms and started toward the brick building. “He’s a football player. He can’t heal with his hands.”

  “I bet he can do something else with his hands, though.” She nudged me and her full lips curled into a devious grin.

  “I walked into that one,” I groaned.

  Drayton and I didn’t have economics that day, so I figured that I’d wait until practice during the second half of lunch to give back his leftover cash. I sat with Gabby in the cafeteria while we ate sandwiches and she caught me up on the latest gossip. She might not talk, but she did listen and she loved it—loved high school and the dynamics and the groups and the drama. But it was all loved from afar, and she didn’t immerse herself in the center of its politics. Her findings were shared with me, though, and I smiled, nodded, and responded when signaled. It didn’t interest me all that much, but I humored her. Gabby was in the middle of recounting Dave Lowinski’s coming-out party when I interrupted her and stood up. “I have cheer practice. Want to come and watch?”

  She shook her head and waved her half-eaten sandwich. More talking meant less eating. “I’m heading to the library. See you in English?”

  “Sounds good.” Gabby loved the library and books. It was where all the fuel for her romantic fantasies came from, and she had a solid group of friends she sat with and read.

  Yesterday was more attention than I needed from our captain, so I had my uniform for practice, to avoid Emily b
reathing down my neck. Once I changed, I jogged out to the field and lined up with the rest of the team who were, surprisingly, dressed in casual activewear.

  “Why are you in uniform, Dallas?” Emily sneered, earning a few snickers from the lineup. “This is practice.”

  I supposed I could have argued, stomped my feet, pointed out what a sadistic and horrible bitch she was for going out of her way to humiliate me, and we were only on the second day in. Instead, I took the high road, pulling my skirt and cheer top off so I was down to my boy shorts and sports bra.

  “Better?” I smiled and tossed the uniform toward my bag on the bleachers behind us.

  Emily responded by barking orders for the warm-up. After twenty minutes of nonstop intensity, she finally gave us a break. Guzzling back my water, I spotted Drayton in the middle of the field, talking to a few of his friends. His black T-shirt clung to his torso and once again I found myself admiring every inch of his incredible build.

  “Dray!” I called. “Hey,” I said when I caught up with him, which felt awkward, but I wasn’t entirely sure why. It became even more awkward when he didn’t respond. His stare was blank.

  “It didn’t cost as much as you thought it would.” I left the explanation brief so that his friends didn’t find out that he’d hit my car. I assumed that’s what had him so nervous. Boys and their pride. “Here’s the rest of that cash.”

  He looked at the money but didn’t move to take it as his eyes darted from the bill in my hand toward his curious buddies and back again.

  “Keep it for the next batch.” He grinned arrogantly, just as full of himself than ever. “It’s good green, right?”

  The group of brain-dead half-wits gasped, widening their eyes as they looked me up and down. Scandalous thoughts of the cheerleader on drugs were obviously plaguing their small minds. I stared Drayton down, willing him to change his story and trying not to dwell on the fact that he himself appeared to be involved in drugs. It wasn’t mind-blowing information. A lot of the students around here indulged in the devil’s lettuce.