Jaded (Jaded #1)(40)

“Mom…” Bryce started, exhausted.

I huddled in the corner and glared from underneath his bedcovers.

“You know how I feel about this girl,” she continued sternly. “I have resigned myself to the fact that you insist on a friendship with her, but I forbid you to further any romantic notions. You need a good girl with morals and a family upbringing that meet your standards.”

“Your standards, Mom,” Bryce argued as he stood and looked at his mother.

“This is my life. You’ve already got my future mapped out, but this is my life right now.”

“You’re a bitch,” I said softly.

AnnaBelle gasped and whirled to me. Bryce had taken the heat from me and even shifted on his feet so she wouldn’t look at me. I was done with him taking the heat for me.

“Excuse me?” she asked coldly.

I sat up and knew the skimpy tank-top would enrage her further. Sweetly, I said, “You heard me.”

Bryce frowned, but he didn’t say anything.

“I will not tolerate disrespect in my home—”

“Then get out,” I interrupted quickly and let the bedcovers fall to reveal my underwear and bare legs. I regretted not wearing a thong instead of my boxer underwear, but at least they were made of black lace.

Her eyes widened.

I explained, “You just said that you won’t tolerate my disrespect, but you’re pretty damned disrespectful to me.”

AnnaBelle Scout huffed in righteous indignation. “You will get out,” she managed to bark through her clamped lips. “You will get out now.”

“With pleasure.” I glared right back.

Bryce moved to grab a tee shirt and his mother snapped out, “You will not leave this house.”

“Mom,” he sighed. “I have to drive her. She doesn’t have a ride.”

AnnaBelle ignored her son’s comment, but seethed towards me instead, “You are the most vile girl that I could ever wish for my son. You will leave my home and never set foot here again.” She stopped and turned back, with a sniff, “I will pray for your soul, Sheldon.”

And the wicked witch of the Scout household was gone.

“I hate her. I hate her. I hate her.” I exclaimed. “Let’s have sex right now.”

“Sheldon.”

“And make it loud.”

“I still have to live here, remember?” Bryce muttered as he went into the bathroom.

I fell back on the bed and moaned, seductively.

“Stop it,” came from the bathroom.

I gasped huskily.

“I mean it.”

“Make me beg, Bryce.” I whispered, throatily.

Bryce came back to the room and shook his head, but his eyes darkened when I smiled, seductively, from the bed. And then he scooped up my clothes and tossed them at me. “Come on, we can grab some breakfast or something. I don’t want to stay in this house longer than necessary.”

I rolled my eyes, but moved to dress quickly. Bryce waited by the door until I was ready and then held the door for me.

As we left, the house was blanketed in complete silence.

Bryce laughed and remarked, “She took them out, probably to church.”

“To brainwash them.”

On the kitchen counter, he’d been left a sternly-worded letter to return home as soon as possible. He should expect severe consequences for his outlandish behavior.

He rolled his eyes at the note, but I ripped it in shreds and let the pieces fall from my hands.

When we got into his car, he asked, “Did you really want to get breakfast?”

“I can go for breakfast—or lunch.” Bryce had borrowed me a shirt, but I kept my same jeans since I’d fallen asleep in them after my rampage. I even looked presentable by his heinous mother’s standards.

It was our usual lunch period and when we got to Café Diner, we saw our normal crowd lingering at the table. They greeted Bryce with high fives and slaps on the back.

Each of the guys gave me a friendly greeting while the girls just glared hatred. Like always. Becky Lew seemed even nastier than normal because she didn’t hide the loathing when she looked at me.

That was different.

Corrigan was already at the table and he looked up, met my gaze, and traveled to Bryce. Whatever he saw there didn’t agree with him because he shoved away from the table and stalked out of our section to sit at another table.

Of course, he chose appropriately. The table was full of blushing sophomores who revealed a little more of their scooped necklines in front of Corrigan’s gaze.

Bryce didn’t say anything, but sat in an empty booth in the back corner.

“Are you serious?” I asked.

Bryce shrugged and ordered some drinks for us.

Annoyed, I turned and walked over to Corrigan’s table.

He quieted when he saw me coming.

“Hey,” he said, guarded.

“Hey.”

He nodded behind me, “He’s still mad at me for absolutely nothing.”

I shrugged. “It’s not my problem.”

“Whatever,” Corrigan cried out, louder than he had intended. He quieted his voice, “It’s because of what happened with you. I was sleeping—I’m sorry.”

“Look, just apologize to him.”