The Bad Boy's Dance (38 page)

             
Josh was speaking, but I wasn’t paying much attention. When he grinned and watched me expectantly, I forced a laugh and put my hand on his arm, as I’d seen many other girls do when they flirted. His ego practically swelled before my eyes, and he shot the other boys a smug look.

              “Why haven’t we spoken before? Are you new here?” Peter finally managed to raise his gaze to my face temporarily. “’Cause I’m sure I would have noticed you.”

             
Maybe because I was actually clothed, pervert.

             
Faking a giggle, I let my hand rest on his chest despite my desire to sock him in the nose. How did girls do this all the time? Flirting was such a chore.

              All of a sudden, Peter was knocked to the floor. In the same instant, a hand slammed Josh into a locker. Daniel gazed at his fallen comrades with wide eyes before bolting.

              Asher stood in front of me, fuming. His eyes raked over me, and I felt the blood rush to my face. His shoulders heaved, and it looked like he was physically restraining himself from continuing to pummel my admirers.

             
Don’t let him get to you!

             
Swallowing dryly, I curled my mouth in a sneer. “What the hell is your problem?”

              He gaped before regaining his equilibrium. “Are you out of your Goddamned mind?” he shouted, gesturing. “Look at you!”

              “I don’t think what I wear is any of your business!” I hissed, slamming my locker shut and stepping over the prone body of Josh. Asher wrenched me back before I’d taken more than three steps.

              “Everything and anything you do is my business,” he growled. “You are
not
going to class wearing that-that- what the hell is that?”

              “You have no right to tell me what to do!” I screeched. We’d already attracted an audience, and I frankly did not care who saw us at this point. My sorrow and grief had switched to daggered fury. “You lost that right when you were in bed with the skank!”

              “Would you stop jumping to conclusions and listen to me?! I swear I didn’t touch her! Stop being so damn irrational!”

              “
Irrational?
Are you serious? I SAW YOU TWO IN BED TOGETHER! You weren’t wearing clothes! What part of that is FUCKING IRRATIONAL?” I screamed at him.

             
Sigh. So much for playing it cool and pretending you don’t care.

             
Asher fisted both his hands over in his hair and groaned deeply.

              “See, you don’t even have anything to say, because you know I’m right. I’m going to class and you’re not going to stop me. Go run off to your tramp, I bet she isn’t as difficult or as high maintenance as
irrational Ivy
.”

              Once again, I tried to stomp away- well, ‘stomp’ is figurative, since I couldn’t do more than wobble in those boots-  but in one rapid move, I was yanked back and then the world was upside-down. It took me a few minutes to figure out that Asher had thrown me over his shoulder and was walking purposefully to the parking lot. He threw his jacket over my waist, cursing. “What the hell are you all looking at?” he snapped at the enthralled audience. “Scram!”

              I squirmed and thrashed, but his hold was steely. “Let me go!” I hollered, beating on his back with my fists. “Put me down right now!”

              He didn’t answer or stop walking.

              “I don’t want to go anywhere with you! I’m not one of your sluts! Put-”

              “WOULD YOU SHUP ALREADY! STOP TALKING!” he roared, opening his car door and dropping me into the seat. He belted me in and shut the door before I could react. He slid into the front seat and started the engine, racing from the school.

              “Enough. It’s time we talk, and this time, you’ll be doing the listening.”

       
 
Chapter

Thirty-One

Cabin in the Woods-Grayson Edition

This was a million times worse than the high speed chase.

              Asher wasn’t speaking, but I could tell he was furious by the jerky motions of the car. His jacket was still on my lap from where he’d covered my exposed skin, and it was extremely hard for me to remember he was a cheating dunghead when I was surrounded by his scent and proximity.

              Rows of trees blurred past on either sides of the car, and the sky was overcast. We bumped along the empty road, and I started to worry. This was getting to
Cabin in the Woods
for my taste.

              “Where are we going?” I demanded stonily.

              He didn’t answer.

              Scowling, I reached over and flipped the radio on to detract from the wired tension in the car. Flicking through the CD’s in his car, I popped the
Imagine Dragons
album in and relaxed against the seat. Asher flicked me a glance but didn’t acknowledge me besides that.

              I must have fallen asleep, because the next thing I knew, the car was rolling to a stop. Yawning, I wiped the last dredges of sleep from my eyes and took in our surroundings. A large homely yet sophisticated cabin loomed, on the brink of rows upon rows of trees. There was a clearing in front of the cabin, a place where the trees had been cut away and only dirt remained. The cabin itself was lovely, with a few steps leading to a comfortable porch. It was like a mini-home, and despite the circumstances, I took a liking to it.

              “We used to come here every year. I haven’t seen this place since my father got arrested,” Asher spoke softly, striding ahead to climb the steps and unlock the oak door. Hesitantly, and with a measure of trepidation, I followed him, passing the threshold into the cabin.

              It was even nicer on the inside. The floors and steps were carpeted, with stairs to my right leading to the next floor. There was a long couch, an armchair, and a loveseat in a pretty shade of blue. A fireplace faced the couch, directly under the mounted flat-screen TV and a large portrait hung on the walls. On closer inspection, it was a portrait of Asher’s family. His Mom stood to the side, and she looked different from the last time I’d seen her…happy. And sober.

              Asher’s father stood to the left of her, and it was disarming how much he looked like Asher. Same dark locks of hair, the intensity in their eyes, and the chiseled bone structure that would rival any Abercrombie model’s.

              A tiny Asher stood between them. My breath caught at how adorable he looked. His dark hair was still tousled around an angelic round face, and big cobalt eyes peered up at the camera almost shyly. He had a dimple in his right cheek, and he was clutching his Mom’s hand tightly.

              Asher was watching me look at the portrait. After a few more minutes, he gave a deep sigh and pulled out a glass. The clinking of ice cubes as he sloshed liquid in the glass drew my attention to him. “I’d give you some, but you’re kind of a lightweight,” he smirked, noticing my gaze.

              Anger replaced the calm provided by the cabin. “Why did you bring me here? To get drunk?” I asked, crossing my arms over my chest.

              “Ha! This isn’t getting drunk. This is trying not to smash my head against your wall of stubborn-ass denial,” he muttered, tossing the contents of the glass down his throat.

              He turned towards me but averted his gaze almost immediately, a muscle in his jaw pulsing. “Okay, you can’t be wearing that if we’re going to talk.”

              I rubbed the fabric of the scandalous dress between two fingers. “Oh, you mean this?” I queried with feigned innocence. He pinched the bridge of his nose, resolutely focusing on the wall behind me. “I think I’d like to remain in it, thank you very much. You don’t dictate what I can or cannot wear.”

              Asher’s gaze snapped to mine, and before I knew what was happening, he stalked over to me and put his hands on my hips, lifting me onto the bar counter so I was eye level with him. He put his hand on the nape of my neck, tugging my face closer, and glowered. “This is not me dictating what you can or cannot wear, angel. This is me trying to be a gentleman and not kiss you stupid because of how damn sexy you look right now. Got it? Change. Please.”

              My mouth had gone dry, and I had no doubt I was staring at him like a thunderstruck moron. Asher backed away. “My Mom’s almost your size. Second bedroom to the right, you’ll find clothes in the wardrobe.”

              He poured himself another drink, muttering under his breath.

              Well, then. Guess I couldn’t argue with his logic. Smoothing my dress, I hopped off the counter and hurried upstairs. It wasn’t hard to find the room in the narrow hall of bedrooms. The room was spacious and had a woman’s touch to it in the littered vanity and soft colors of the bed and plush carpet. The wardrobe was ‘locked’ but it opened after I jimmied the worn door a few times. Half the closet held men’s clothes, and the other half held outrageously posh women’s clothing. It took me ten minutes of digging to uncover something moderately casual in the wardrobe. Shimmying out of the dress, I dressed in pressed designer jeans and a knit green sweater. Asher’s mom was certainly into the fancy and the expensive.

              By the time I returned downstairs, Asher was lying back on the recliner, his hands folded over his flat stomach. His eyes flicked towards me when I descended, and he straightened. He ran a hand through his tousled dark locks and gestured for me to sit on the couch opposite him.

              Reluctantly, I agreed. I hadn’t forgotten the purpose of this trip, or my tumultuous emotions. Sometime while we were driving here, I must have calmed a bit, because I didn’t feel the rash craziness from this morning.

              Asher rubbed his jaw nervously, and I couldn’t help but appreciate how delicious he looked. My insecurity nipped at me again, and honestly, was it unjustified after what he’d done with Brenda?

              “Whatever you’re thinking, stop it,” Asher snapped. “You have this frustrating habit of putting words in my mouth.”

              Groaning, I massaged my temples. “What do you want from me, Asher? I don’t see the point of this trip.”

              “Brenda’s Dad is a lawyer.”

              My head whipped towards him. “Don’t. Say. Her. Name.”

              Asher scowled, the arrogant jerk. “We agreed you’ll be doing the listening. Which means no speaking and letting me finish.”

              My only response was a glare, but that was because I was too interested to see where he was going with this.

              “As I was saying, Brenda’s Dad is a lawyer, and a powerful one at that. It’s how she was able to dig up the information on you. But what you don’t know is he’s my father’s attorney.”

              It was impossible to forget how Brenda had shoved her father’s status in my face when she relayed all the dirt she’d gathered on me the day we’d brawled. But this I wasn’t expecting.

              “It’s how we met, and why she was under the delusion we were dating for so long. After my father was arrested, I was at their house often. Her Dad knows his stuff when it comes to the business my father was involved in.”

              This was all very intriguing, but I didn’t understand how it was relevant to what I’d seen. I told him as much, and he rolled his eyes. “You’ve got the patience of a two year old.”

              It was really hard not to sulk and prove his point.

              Any amusement dropped from his face as he talked. “I went to see him when I found out about your deal with Trevor. I was frantic for any way to get you out of this mess without a backlash. Brenda was there, and she was eavesdropping, per usual.” He ground his teeth together. “And she pretended to feel sympathetic, which I now know was her making me even angrier with you. I told her I’d be missing school for the rest of the week, and to cover for me with the office, and I left.”

              I crossed my ankles and tried to unclench my fists. As much as I’d demanded the truth, my nerves kept interfering the closer we got to it.

              “After you came to see me and we fought, I wanted to call you so badly, or go see you. But I figured you were mad at me and I’d screw it up even more if I didn’t give you some space. I was planning on seeing you the next day,” Asher said, his cobalt eyes intent on my face. I wasn’t sure what he saw there, but it spurred him to continue.

              “She’d called me that day, told me she had papers her father wanted me to see. I went to shower, because I wasn’t expecting her for hours. When I came out, she was there practically naked, and she tackled me to the bed. You walked in a few seconds later. She must have timed everything, from your arrival to her entrance.”

              The text I’d gotten in the car, telling me to come to Asher’s house…it must have been Brenda. She had probably waited until she saw my car pull up and ran inside the house.