BAD WICKED TWISTED: A Briarcrest Academy Box Set (90 page)

“I watch you do a lot of things,” he said silkily. “I watched you tap dance across your patio one day—not very well, I might add. I’ve also watched you gaze at the stars and write in your little notebook—which I presume is a diary.” He paused. “Is it weird that I like watching you?”

“Very.” But it made me hot all over. “You can’t see into my bedroom can you?”

He stilled, his eyes finding mine. “No.”

A shiver went over me, heat flooding my face at the intensity of his gaze. I had to look away. “I guess if you’re buying me ice cream, I
could
sit with you.”

“Don’t act like it’s a hardship,” he teased as he escorted me to the back of the shop to find a table. “Millions of girls would mow you over to share ice cream with me, so sit your sweet ass down and talk to me.” He pulled out a seat for me.

I sat, but rolled my eyes. “Modesty is not your forte.”

“No, but honesty is. I promise never to lie to you.”

Oh
. His words were said lightly but seemed like a warning.

We settled in and ate our ice cream while he kept sneaking glances at me, his eyes skating over my face, lingering longer than necessary on my lips.

I licked them. “What? You’re making me paranoid. Is there ice cream on my face?”

“No, it’s just—you seem vaguely familiar to me. But then, I’d never forget a girl like you.” He took a bite of ice cream, still scanning my face.

I didn’t want him to piece it together, so I played it off. “You’re dangerously smooth. My mother always said to avoid boys like you.”

He snorted, his lips kicking up in a grin. “Me? Moms love me. I can cook—thanks to my big brother Leo—I like romantic movies like
Casablanca
, and best of all, I talk to my one-year-old niece on the phone every day. She’s my bro’s daughter and her name’s Gabby, and she’s the most beautiful girl in the world.” He winked. “You’re the second prettiest, of course.”

I mulled that over, my stomach doing a topsy-turvy thing at the image of him cooing on the phone to his niece.

He cleared his throat. “So, no-name girl, I’ve been wondering who you are and I have some theories.”

I blinked. “Yeah?”

He smiled back. “Are you an ex-porn star?”

“Uh, no.”

“Ax-murderer who killed her last boyfriend?”

“No, he still lives.”

He chuckled. “Then I think we’re good.”

“So … are you a famous surfer?” I asked, eyeing the shark’s tooth necklace resting against his shirt.

He rubbed the necklace. “This little gem was taken from a shark the size of a bus. True, I had to kill him with my bare hands, but it’s quite eye-catching. I call it my lucky necklace.”

“You kill sharks in your spare time?” I could see it with those nice arms he had.

He grinned. “Truth is, I actually wore this necklace in a video I made, and it
is
lucky. Our video made us huge.”

Music video? My interest was piqued, but I dampened it. “Cool.”

Suddenly, he took it off from around his neck and draped it over mine, his fingers brushing over my collarbone. “Wear it for me when you play again.”

A hush settled over our table at his words, and my heart took up its crazy pounding as I imagined playing for him wearing
nothing
but the necklace.

Maybe he was a mind reader because his eyes went low and he leaned in over the table. “This is going to sound crazy, but it feels like we have this thing between us—” he stopped, indecision working his face.

“Thing?”

“Never mind. It—it’s stupid.”

I let it go.

“Why do you do that?” he asked later, nodding his head at my tapping fingers as they beat against my thigh.

I stopped as heat washed over my face. God. I hadn’t even been aware of it.

“Don’t be embarrassed,” he said. “It’s just you did it yesterday when I saw you at Wilson’s and now, so naturally, I’m curious.”

“Uh, yeah. I have a tapping problem.”

“Kinda like an eye twitch?” He laughed. “I get those all the time, especially when my roomie does crazy shit. Which is more often than you’d think.”

I smirked. “I’d explode if I tried to stop. Mostly, it soothes me … kinda like a baby that sucks its thumb.”

“Or a gunslinger who’s getting ready to fire off a shot.” He mimicked the action of pulling a gun from an imaginary belt and firing it at me.

I giggled and then cocked my head in surprise. “You’re not like I expected,” I said, biting my lip at the words. Maybe it was a sixth sense or a gut feeling, but I knew Blond Guy wasn’t judging me for my eccentricities.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“Well, you’re overwhelmingly gorgeous—I’m sure you know that—yet you’re kind. It’s refreshing. Surprising even.” I spilled more. “My tapping was worse when it first started—I’d get blisters on my fingers I did it so much. Some of my friends, even my ex … were embarrassed by it, or maybe they just didn’t know
what
to say.” I stared down at the table. “I appreciate you not making a big deal about it.”

A gentle look came over his face as he picked up my free hand and stroked my palm. “There are worse things in life than tapping your leg. I don’t know what happened to you, but I’m glad you’re still here. Your tapping makes you unique. Also—” he grinned and wiggled his eyebrows “—I happen to dig
different
, Violin Girl.”

A bolt of electricity zapped through my insides and went straight to my lady parts. “Violin Girl?”

Just then a commotion at the door caught his attention, and I angled my head and took in Blair Storm, sweeping inside the entrance in a tight white sundress and skinny stilettos, entourage in tow. Perfect. Guess they’d moved from the coffee shop to here. Dammit. I sighed.

Patrons pulled out their camera phones and started clicking away as she waltzed around, her mane of white hair caressing her shoulders as she pranced by like a My Little Pony. A group of young girls squealed and ran to her with paper and pen out. She obliged with a sweet smile on her face.

Only I knew better.

I wished I didn’t let her bother me.

He let go of my hand and snapped up out of his seat, nearly knocking down his chair. His eyes careened from me to Blair and then back again, as if he couldn’t make up his mind about what to do or say.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

He popped off his hat and ran a hurried hand through his hair. “I—I have to go. My friend’s here now.”

My eyes flew to Blair. “
She’s
who you’re meeting?” I hissed, filling in the gaps.

“Look, I wish I could explain, but it’s complicated.”

Disappointment settled in me, and I held my hand up. “Wait. Is she your
girlfriend
?” Maybe he wasn’t the sweet person I thought he was.

He shrugged, his mouth thinning, and I waited for him to explain further, but he just stood there.

“So what you’re
not
telling me is that you and her are a thing?”

He eased off his sunglasses and tucked them in his pocket with care as if weighing his words. “Do you mind if we talk about this later? I can’t explain—”

“No. Just tell me the truth. Are you and Bubbles going at it?”

“Bubbles?”

I waved my hands at him. “Never mind that. Just answer the question.”

“What do you mean?” He crossed his arms.

And then I started babbling. “Are you doing the bedroom rodeo with her? You know, bumping uglies? Rolling in the hay? Playing hide the sausage? Churning butter?
Making love
?”

His jawline tightened, and his eye definitely twitched. “I don’t owe you an explanation of my love life. How do I know you won’t spill what you know to the media?”

“I guess you don’t. Maybe I like to keep my own name out of the papers. Maybe you and Blair aren’t the only famous people in this room.” I groaned at my own stupidity. I’d said too much. I picked up my purse, eyeing the paparazzi who’d come into the shop. They weren’t here for me, and I hadn’t even been on their radar in a long time, but I still wanted to avoid them.

“Thanks for the ice cream,” I said tersely. “Next time … pretend you don’t know me if we happen to see each other.”

“Wait. Don’t go,” he said as I headed to the door.

But I knew he didn’t mean it. I wasn’t an imbecile. I could tell he hadn’t wanted to be seen with me.

“Violin Girl!” he called out, frustration evident in his voice, but I increased my stride, anxious to put distance between us. Like an idiot, I looked over my shoulder as a soft cooing came from Blair. I watched her jump in his arms and lay a big kiss on his cheek. My stomach rolled, and I don’t even know why.

I backed out the door, unable to tear my eyes off them.

“First impression? She called me a wiener.”

—
Sebastian Tate

“WHO WAS THAT girl?” Blair hissed under her breath as we posed for a couple of pictures inside the ice cream shop.

“My neighbor. No one that concerns you.”

She reached out, her hands taking mine in a fake handhold. “It concerns us both if the media even sniffs that we aren’t a real couple. You want that movie, don’t you?”

I shot her a dark look. “Don’t patronize me, Blair. I know exactly what I want and I’ll do whatever it takes to get it. I also know you need me to make you look younger for those acting jobs you want. We both benefit.”

“You seem to have the gist of it.” She applied lip gloss and then puckered up her mouth. “Now kiss me. There’s a guy from TMZ here.”

I feigned a happy expression and took her mouth, my hands on her shoulders. Her hairspray smell clogged my nose, reminding me that she didn’t smell like strawberries, like Violin Girl had. I closed my eyes and wondered what kissing
her
mouth would be like. Would her lips be as soft as they looked? Did she like long, slow kisses or hard ones that took her breath away? Would she even want to kiss me? I clenched my hands, remembering how close we’d been at our table, how I’d ached to know more about her but had sensed she needed to go slow.

And the tapping.

What had happened to her?
I’d been truthful with her. Her quirk hadn’t bothered me. In the big picture, it wasn’t what stood out about her. Nope. What struck me were her big lavender eyes, creamy skin, and jet-black hair.

Most of all, I felt like I knew her even when I didn’t.

Did she think about me at all?

The kiss ended and I pulled back to tweak Blair on the nose. All for show. She fluttered her eyelashes at me and started talking, but I barely listened, my head still running through every little second I’d spent with Violin Girl. Analyzing it. Would she play for me again? What song would she do next? I got amped up just imagining it.

Then I got pissed at myself.

Daydreaming about her was insane. Blair might be hard to deal with, but she was my ticket to the big time, and the only girl I needed to be focused on right now. My goal was not to woo the raven-haired beauty that lived next door, but to be a star.

“What would you like to eat, babe?” I asked a bit later as we stood at the counter.

“Apparently, you’ve already had ice cream,” she snipped in a low voice. “Are you going to eat again? That’s a lot of calories, Basty.”

I tampered down my flare of anger. “Don’t make me regret this,” I said in her ear through gritted teeth. “Stop bitching and let’s get this done. I have a meeting in an hour that I can’t miss.”

One that no one knew about.

“Fine.” She shrugged.

“And don’t call me any of your ridiculous nicknames. I’m not your pet.”

She let out a tingling laugh and squeezed my arm as she gazed adoringly into my eyes. “Of course, darling. Whatever you say.”

I had to give it to her. She really was a good actress.