Always Have: A Bad Boy Romance(3)

But Braxton? I get it. I don’t blame any guy I date for being uncomfortable with our friendship. Braxton is big and powerful, and not just physically. He’s one of those people who fills whatever space he’s in. His personality is as big as his biceps—maybe bigger.

And he’s f*cking gorgeous. I can admit that to myself, although I’d never tell him. He has a strong jaw that he keeps covered in light stubble. His eyes are so dark they’re almost black, and when he stares at you, it’s like he can see through to your soul. He’s just the right type of muscular—big and strong, without looking like a meathead. He has a set of gorgeous tattoos down his left arm, adding to the bad boy thing he does so well. Women stare at him wherever he goes, and he knows it. Women are putty for him.

Except me, of course.

Mostly.

“That sucks,” he says. “You shouldn’t start the new year without someone to properly kiss that sweet mouth.”

Hope is definitely not around, and Braxton is definitely drunk.

I smile and take a sip of my drink so he’ll quit looking at my mouth. I hate it when he looks at me like this; I feel like I can’t breathe. “That’s okay,” I say. “I’ll be fine. It’s a stupid holiday anyway. Who f*cking cares? It’s just a calendar flip. It’s not like a new year has to mean anything.”

I’m lying through my teeth. I’ve been looking forward to this night for the last month, feeling like this coming year will be different. I’m going to get my shit together and start living life on my terms. Set goals. Find a better job. Achieve things I can be proud of. Maybe find love—real love, with a future. Not this dating bullshit, with the games and uncertainty.

I’ve been planning to make this a year of change, a year of figuring out my shit. Which is probably why the fact that I’m about to sneak off to my room and start the new year by myself, nursing a strong drink, brings the sting of tears to my eyes.

Someone yells, “One minute!”

Braxton gets closer. “You need someone to kiss tonight, Ky?”

I force out a laugh. “Why, you offering?”

He meets my eyes and, for a second, I think he’s serious. My smile drops and my heart beats too fast.

“There you are,” Hope says, slipping her hand around Braxton’s arm. “It’s almost time.”

He steps back, his expression mischievous. He was totally f*cking with me. I let out the breath I didn’t realize I was holding.

“Come on, baby,” Hope says, trying to pull him out of the kitchen. Her eyes narrow at me, but her expression softens before Braxton sees the look she gives me.

Everyone starts counting down. “Ten … nine … eight…”

I watch Braxton for a beat longer as he lets Hope lead him away. He turns to her and puts his hand around her waist while she tips her face up to him, ready for his kiss. People around them pair off. Selene and Nathan are already busy playing tongue hockey on the other side of the room.

“Six … five … four…”

I can’t even deal with this scene. Clutching my cup, I cross the distance to my room and duck inside. I lean back against the door just in time to hear, “One!”

Cheers. Noisemakers. Whoops and hollers. I’m sure Braxton is kissing Hope, a prelude to him tossing her over his shoulder and carrying her upstairs to his room. I’ll probably have to suffer her dirty looks through breakfast tomorrow. Maybe I’ll get up early and go home before Braxton and Selene wake up. I’m not sure I want to hang out with people who all got laid the night before, while I’m spending the night alone in my room, with only my good friend vodka to keep me company.

I sink down on the bed and put the drink on the nightstand. As much as I want this year to be better, from the way it’s beginning I’m pretty sure it’s going to be a lot more of the same.





My phone vibrates in my hand and I smile, seeing the text is from Kylie.

I assume you have plans, but if not—date-free Valentine’s Day dinner. Just us three. Wanna come?

Sounds f*cking perfect to me. I broke up with Hope a few days ago. She didn’t exactly take it well. I guess I’m a dick for breaking up with her right before Valentine’s Day. There was quite a bit of yelling, a slap that stung my cheek, and a lot of broken glass for me to clean up when she finally left.

Hope was definitely a firecracker. It was one of the things I liked about her, but there was a downside to her spirit. Hope will be fine. She’s hot as hell, and she could do a lot better than an * like me anyway.

I answer Kylie’s text, realizing it’s been a while since I could text back and forth with her without angling my phone so my jealous girlfriend can’t see who I’m talking to.

You know I’m in, baby girl.

It’s going to be a relief to be able to shamelessly flirt with Kylie again. She’s one of the reasons I broke it off with Hope, although I would never admit that to either of them. I knew Hope didn’t like Kylie. She seemed to think I didn’t see her glaring, but I’m not blind. It pissed me off. If a girl can’t handle my friendship with Kylie, they need to step off. I put up with Hope’s jealousy for a while—she gave me some very compelling reasons, and I don’t mean with words—but it got old.

Not that I blame her. It’s not easy to be with a guy who has a close relationship with another woman. Particularly when that woman is Kylie. She’s f*cking adorable. She’s one of those women who has absolutely no clue how beautiful she is, and that only makes her hotter. She’s little compared to me and Selene, with inky dark hair, and these crazy blue-gray eyes, plus a tight round ass and a set of magnificent tits.