The Bad Boy's Girl (The Bad Boy's Girl #1)(5)

I know all of that, you beautiful creature, because I spend my weekend nights stalking you. But he doesn’t really need to know that. Time to put my nonexistent acting skills into play.

“What? Are you serious? I . . . wow, is he really coming back?” I exclaim.

“Yeah, he is.” Is it just me, or does Jay look as unhappy about it as I am? “I just wanted to see if you’re okay since your relationship with Cole . . .”

“It’s not a relationship, Jay, it’s tyranny. He’s Bush and I’m like his mini Afghanistan.”

He laughs, and the cute little dimples appear on his cheeks, making me melt.

“I forgot how funny you were.” His blue eyes shine as he grins at me, oh boy.

“Look, if he gives you any trouble, you come to me, okay?” he says seriously and I nod.

“You’ll protect me?” I sound sappy to my own ears but to hell with it.

Jay scratches the back of his neck and mutters “yes” as I resist the urge to kiss the life out of him.

“Thank you, Jay, it means a lot to me.” There is a faint tinge of pink on his cheeks and it stays there when we walk into the gym together. Thankfully Nicole isn’t there, and for that hour I pretend that Jay is mine and that everything is perfect.





Chapter Two : I’m Her Evil Russian Twin, Svetlana


“So, honey, I hear that Cole’s back,” my father says as we sit together for dinner.

Oh, he isn’t back yet. If he was, then I wouldn’t be sitting here in one piece, I think as I angrily stab a pea.

“He is? I didn’t know,” I reply, and my mother snorts in disbelief and chuckles.

“You two always were so adorable together. That boy could just never leave you alone,” she reminisces fondly as I struggle to contemplate which part of the misery I had been put through looked “adorable” to my mother.

“I wish he had,” I grumble.

“Now Tess, we can’t have you on bad terms with the sheriff’s son, can we? It’s election year and we need all the help we can get,” my dad says, and I give him my best “are you kidding me?” look. If he wants me to suck up to my nemesis just to make him win an election, he can kiss his office good-bye.

“Especially since your father was such a disappointment this last term,” my mom says sweetly, but making sure that her words sting as much as they can. I can sense the beginnings of a fight, so I finish my dinner in record time. All thoughts of Cole are forgotten and I rush upstairs before someone starts throwing cutlery around.

“Travis, get up!” I shout outside my brother’s door, knocking on it loudly three times and stopping when he utters his usual greeting, the F word. This is part of our daily ritual. Alarm clocks don’t work for my older brother, so I’ve taken on the duty of making sure he hasn’t slipped into a coma.

It might seem strange that my brother wakes up around dinnertime, but we’ve all gotten used to his nocturnal nature. My parents understand that they’ve lost their prodigal son, and I’ve realized that the best way to deal with new Travis is to keep a safe distance.

See, Travis is now twenty-one and still living at home because he got kicked out of his college. For plagiarizing a paper at that, pretty dumb for a straight-A student. Then the love of his life dumped him and he resorted to alcohol in order to, and I quote, “Deal with this shit.”

Ever since last year he’s almost always been chronically hungover, and as much as my father wants to, he can’t do anything about it. He’s the mayor and he can’t be airing his dirty laundry in public. When someone asks about Travis, we simply either ignore them or say something along the lines of how he’s working on his other “ambitions,” such as writing the next great American novel.

In the middle of this dysfunctional family we have me. Unhinged and facing a nuclear attack; others might refer to it as Cole Stone’s return.

***

I plop down on my bed and take out the material needed for my homework. I have an essay due tomorrow, which I’ve written already. Okay, so I outlined and wrote it the day it was assigned, but double-checking never hurts. It’s what you do when doing homework is the only thing you have to occupy yourself with. Nicole has made sure that I’m shunned from any sort of activity that might actually involve me being social.

I’m proofreading the essay and adding footnotes when my dad enters my room. His face is flushed and it’s because of the screaming match that just ended downstairs.

“Are you free, Tess?” he asks expectantly.

“Well, not exactly, I have this assignment—”

It’s like he hasn’t even heard what I just said as he thrusts a folder into my hands. “Good, I need you to take these to the sheriff right now. I would’ve done it myself but I’m going to head out and he needs these right away.”

“But Dad . . .”

He wants me to go to the Stones’? Is he out of his mind? Am I that big of a disappointment to him that he’s readily sending me to my end? I can’t go to the sheriff’s house because that sheriff fathered Cole. If Cole’s back, then going over to his place is as inviting as poking a beehive. Been there, done that, and it’s not pleasant.

“You’ll do exactly as I say, Tess, or you’ll be grounded,” he says smugly.