Nobody But You

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Chapter One: Mr. Asshole

I almost hit him.

The guy on a red motorcycle, whizzing around the roundabout like he owned it, had the audacity to stop and flip me the finger when I didn’t brake fast enough. Even though it wasn’t my fault he was exceeding the speed limit. The guy on his red motorcycle whizzing around the roundabout like he owned it.

He had the audacity to stop and flip me the finger when I didn’t brake fast enough, even though it wasn’t my fault he was exceeding the speed limit.

What an asshole.

Not to mention, his hideous, neon green mohawk helmet he wore that didn’t match his bike at all.

At least I didn’t hit him.

After slowing my racing heart, I continued home, taking a different route, driving slowly down the familiar roads, triple checking for motorcyclists. When I drive past my old high school, I’m reminded of why I don’t take this route home anymore.

Ryan, my older brother, was always the popular one surrounded by friends. I used to be envious until he noticed, and suddenly, he was filled with great ideas that involved me stepping outside of my comfort zone. I instantly regretted every time I complained at the dinner table.

Saturday morning, I was volunteering my time and dignity by standing at the entrance of my high school wearing a bright smile and sleepy eyes. My best and only friend, Emily, stood beside me. We did everything together, and so when Ryan proposed starting a new welcoming committee, I had to drag her along. No way was I doing it alone.

He usually stood with us by the entrance, but not today. Instead, he was touring a college with Dad near our house. He’d be leaving for college next fall, and I would be the new president of the welcoming committee. Therefore, Emily and I took charge of the front entrance, where we had to greet everyone who would be starting school the following Monday. We weren’t alone, and a few more students were inside manning different hallways.

This morning was different because for once, there was a cute guy walking in my direction, instead of Emily’s with a big, goofy grin, messy, brown hair that swayed with every step, and big, chocolate brown eyes. Totally my type.

His eyes flickered to my name badge before clearing his throat. “Hi there, Celine. Name’s Aidan, and it appears I’m more lost than I thought I would be. Could you point me to the sophomore lockers?” He ran a hand through his shaggy hair.

“Bee!” Emily bumped into my side, pretending to squeal, but I knew better. She was the only girl I knew that wasn’t scared of bugs, especially bees.

“Hey Aidan. Welcome to Heritage Prep! I would love to show you where the sophomore lockers are; it’s a bit tricky to explain. Celine, on the other hand, is a pro,” Emily said as she nudged me toward him.

I turned walking through the big, green, double doors for the school, shooting a glare at Emily, who only winked in response.

“Not very talkative, are you?” Aidan asked, his shoulder brushing mine as we walked through the empty hallway.

“Not really. Pretty shy actually.” I played with the ring on my right middle finger, turning it around to ease my nerves.

“If it makes you feel any better, I’m shy, too. I had to leave my other school because of bullying. I needed a fresh start.” I stopped in the sophomore hall, turning to look at him.

“I’m sorry; that’s awful. I hope you have a better experience here.” I ran a hand through my hair, pushing a fallen lock out of my face.

“It’s already better. I’m talking to a pretty girl before school starts, and I’m hoping I’ll convince her to be my friend by the time I leave.” My cheeks flame, and heat creeps up my neck at the compliment. This was a first.

“I can’t make any promises. Here’s the sophomore hall. What number did you get?”

“Not yours, unfortunately.” He laughs awkwardly at his lame attempt at a joke, pulling a crumpled piece of paper out of his back pocket. “Two-ten,” he says and pushes the wrinkly paper back into his pocket.

“Lucky for you, that’s right next to mine.” He smiles, the same goofy grin that was on his face when he walked over to Em and me. I really liked that smile.

“We’re going to be best friends. I can already see it. It’s fate we’re locker neighbors.” I laughed this time, instantly covering my mouth and closing my eyes in embarrassment at the sound that came out.

After showing him how to open the locker and pointing out some of the classes he would have on Monday, we walked back to the entrance. He was cracking jokes left and right, and most of them weren’t funny, but I laughed each time because he was trying, and I was enjoying myself.

Emily turned to me with big, excited eyes and ran over to me, disregarding the mom who was walking up to her. “Did he kiss you?” she shrieked, catching the attention of the woman who walked by shaking her head, ushering her young daughter past us quickly.

“No, definitely not! I don’t even know him, Em!” She shrugged at my reply, handing a welcome pamphlet to a nearby couple with their son.

“You are pretty red. Did you give him your number at least?” I shot her a glare. She shook her head in disappointment. “I would’ve asked for his number and kissed him goodbye.”

Emily and I weren’t the same—she loved boys and she showed them that love any chance she got. She went out with a different guy every Friday night, then would sleep over at my house, and we’d spend hours whispering into the night about our dream guy.

“I don’t know him, Em. I’m not you. I don’t trust just anyone.”

“Well, how are you supposed to get to know him if you don’t try, silly?”

I found myself smiling as I thought about our conversation and his not-so-funny jokes. Nothing could upset me. The smile never left my lips, and the giddy feeling of excitement filled my bones until Monday morning.

I should’ve known then, by his strict determination, that we would be friends by the end of the first week, and after a month, I couldn’t imagine my life without him.

I should’ve known then that Aidan Michaels would claim a piece of my heart and take it with him when he left me.

The loud beep of a horn shakes me from the memory, and I stare at the green light, quickly switching my foot from brake to accelerator.

When I get home, I plop on the couch and don’t move. I stare aimlessly at the television, hoping to drown out thoughts of my ex.

“Cece, come meet Ace!” Ryan’s voice banters through the living room, and I groan. He just got home from college and already he was getting on my nerves.

I don’t look away from the show until his stupid face stands in front of the television, blocking my view. When my gaze roams to the figure standing beside him, my jaw almost hits the ground.

This can’t be happening.

Standing in all his glory is the asshole from earlier. Same clothes, same neon green mohawk helmet in his hand. Why is this my luck?

He walks up to me slowly, anger brewing in his eyes. I avert my eyes and look everywhere but him.

“Is that your Jeep outside?” His voice is deep with a slight southern twang.

“Yeah.” My voice shakes, all confidence leaving me in the dust.

“You almost fucking ran me over!” he yells, and my brother’s eyes go big, his brows furrow, and I know he’s about to yell at Asshole – the name I’ve given the jerk in my head – for swearing at me.

“Listen here, asshole, it was my right of way!” I stand from the couch and take a step closer to him, showing no fear. He can’t hurt me – my brother won’t let him. I’m practically invincible.

“Oh, no! It wasn’t your right of way, little girl!” He takes another step closer to me, our chests almost touching. I have to look up to see into his eyes.

He has the most intriguing blue eyes I’ve ever seen. But he doesn’t deserve them.

“Don’t you talk to me like that! And for the record, Asshole, I’m no little girl!” With every word, I jab his chest, effectively getting my point across.

“Whoa! Guys, calm down!” my brother yells getting in the middle of Mr. Asshole and me. He has his finger in my face, and his body shakes as he tries to control his anger. I’m suddenly struck by how his eyes have turned a stormy gray.

He takes a moment to rein himself in, closing his eyes and controlling his breathing. He opens them again and the swirling mess of emotions is gone. His eyes have returned to their normal, hypnotizing blue, and I’m left speechless.

“She almost ran me over, dude.” He points at me, and then looks at my brother. My brother then turns to me, arms crossing over his chest. He narrows his eyes.

“Were you on your phone again?” Did he seriously have to bring that up?

“No, I wasn’t. He was whizzing around the roundabout, and I didn’t see him coming.”

“For fuck’s sake, you’re supposed to yield to the left. I was left of you!” Mr. Asshole is yelling again. There’s a vein popping out just below his jaw, and my eyes focus on it. “What are you looking at?” His eyes are gray again, and his mouth in the lighting is striking. Unfortunately, I’m his target.

“Dude, calm down.” Ryan turns to his guest and shoves him back a step. This seems to clear his head again. “Don’t talk to my sister like that again. I don’t care what she did; don’t swear at her.” Ryan is shorter than his friend, but he stands straight and tilts his head up to give himself more height.

“Yeah, whatever.” Mr. Asshole walks away and takes a seat on the couch. He puts his mohawk helmet down on the coffee table and sits back, pulls his phone out, and starts texting.

I turn back to Ryan and shrug before going to the kitchen for a drink, but he follows me and corners me against the fridge. “What the hell, Celine?”

“I should be asking you that.”

“Is this still about the accident?” His eyes soften.

“I wouldn’t try to run someone over because of the accident. I didn’t see him. I didn’t look for him, okay? I’ll be in my room if you need me.” I push past him, leaving the kitchen, and head up the staircase to my safe place.

Later that night, when I’m called down for dinner, I see that Mr. Asshole has not left. Instead, he’s sitting at the dining room table talking to my dad and Ryan about his Ducati. Ryan’s eyes meet mine as does my father’s, but they both look away quickly.

“Hey, Dad, how was work?” I ask as I take a seat at the table.

“Uneventful. What time will you be in tomorrow?” Ryan and Mr. Asshole have gone to the kitchen to help my mom bring the food to the table.

“I start class tomorrow. I can come in the afternoon.”

“Sounds good. I have a few things I need you to do.” My mom walks in then, talking away to Mr. Asshole like he’s her new son.

She stops talking to the boys and smiles at me. I’m instantly filled with warmth. “Hi, honey, how was the beach? Did Emily meet you?”

“It was fun, but it started to rain this afternoon, so we left early. Her parents are out of town again, so she didn’t want to be home alone.” Mom sits next to me and my father, while Ryan sits next to my dad, and Mr. Asshole sits right across from me.

“The food looks great, Mrs. Wilson.” His southern drawl makes the common words sound better than they should, and my mother flushes.

“Please, Ace, call me Kendall.”

I break the silence with a more pressing matter. “Any news on the storm?”

“It’s developed into a category two hurricane. Should be hitting the Bahamas in a few days. We need to start preparing,” my dad announces, looking at me and then Ryan. “Between the two of you, make sure the outdoor furniture is in the garage by tomorrow night.”

We share a look of annoyance before nodding.

After dinner, Ryan gets Ace to help us move the patio furniture to the garage. When we finish, it’s dark out, and I’m covered in mosquito bites.

“It looks like you got chicken pox!” Ace laughs, pointing at my welt-covered arms.

“Quite the doctor, aren’t you?” I roll my eyes, scratching my arms.

“Hey, man, it’s getting late. I’ll see you on campus tomorrow?” he asks my brother, who’s also scratching.

“Yeah, for sure. Drive safe, dude.” They fist bump, and Ace leaves after stopping in the house for his god-awful helmet.

“Why couldn’t you be nice?” Ryan shoves me.

“Why didn’t you warn me?” I shove him back a bit harder.

“It’s my house, too, Celine.” He rolls his eyes, crossing his arms.

“That’s the rule, and you know it, dipshit.” He throws his head back in laughter.

“Whatever. Go shower. You reek!” He pushes me toward the backdoor into the house, my jaw hitting the ground.

“I stink? You should smell yourself.” I laugh, walking into the house. Our parents are standing there, sipping coffees, small smiles on their face.

“Wasn’t he cute?” My mother grins, and my father shakes his head and laughs.

“Not my type, Mom. Don’t even start.” They both laugh and share a knowing look. “Anyway, I’m going to go shower and get an early night. Big day tomorrow. First day of class and all.”

“Goodnight, honey,” they both say as I brush past.

After a long, hot shower, I climb into bed.

Scrolling through my Instagram feed one last time, I see a girl from my graduating class posted a picture next to my ex. Today was the two-year anniversary. How had I forgotten?

My heart instantly plummets, and I exit out of the app. Every time I think I’m over him, I’m reminded of how badly he broke me.

Setting a seven A.M. alarm, I plug my phone in and turn off the light, bathing the room in darkness. My eyes close as my head hits the pillow.

Aidan came over every Friday night, and we watched movies and ate popcorn while we waited for Emily. Every Friday night we had a sleepover, with no sleeping involved. The three of us would spend the night watching movies and laughing until the early morning, when we all finally fell asleep.

Today was different. Emily was sick and couldn’t come, so it was just Aidan and me. He came home with me from school, walking into my house like it was his own, and said ‘hello’ to my mom like she was his. Mom had made our favorite chocolate chip cookies, and we each devoured four before she kicked us out of the kitchen.

I headed to my room to change out of my school clothes while he stayed downstairs and used the guest room.

By the time I got to the movie room, Aidan was already lounging on the brown reclining couch, flicking through the free movies. “The Harry Potter movies are free again,” he says as I sit next to him, his eyes never leaving the flat screen.

“Wanna marathon it?” I ask, grabbing some of the blanket he has draped over his legs. He starts the first movie, giving me his answer.

We didn’t talk during the first movie, and it wasn’t until the second movie that I noticed something was different with him. He didn’t usually sit so close to me, and he certainly never put his arm around the back of the sofa where my head rested.

Halfway through the second movie, we ordered a pizza to share, and that’s when things really seemed strange, especially when he started to pace the room after eating. He never did that.

“Celine, can we talk?” I paused the movie, knowing something was wrong because he never said my full name, not since the day he met me. After that, it’s only been Cece.

“What’s wrong, A?” He looked unsure, his eyes darting between mine and the floor.

“I care about you,” he said as he came closer, taking a step in my direction.

“I care about you too, dork!” I couldn’t understand why he suddenly appeared so nervous.

“Not like friends, Celine. Like a boyfriend cares about his girlfriend.”


Mouth open, I couldn’t find any words. Friends never want to admit those types of feelings.

“You don’t have to say anything, I just can’t keep beating around the bush anymore. You needed to know.” He’s standing in front of me now, and I can make out the worry in his eyes from the little light in the room.

I still can’t find the right words.

“I think I’m going to go home – let you have time to figure out what you want to do.” He heads for the door, bending down to pick up his backpack that rests against the wall.

His hand wraps around the handle, and he hesitates. “I’m sorry if I ruined our friendship. I just can’t keep lying anymore.” He opens the door and takes one step out when I finally find my voice.

“Don’t go.” He stops and turns back to face me. “You can’t leave like this.”

He closes the door, drops his bag, and slowly walks back over to the couch, taking a seat but putting a lot of space between us. He’s never done that before—I’ve practically always sat on his lap.

And then it clicked.

We never acted like friends.

Friends don’t cancel plans with the guys on a Saturday night because I had a fight with my parents. They don’t take the long way home every time he drops me off. They don’t wipe away my tears when I’m upset, and they certainly don’t watch romance movies with me.

Unless we’ve always been more, and I’ve never noticed.

“We’ve never been friends,” I whisper into the dark room. His loud intake of air draws my attention. “Friends don’t feel the way I do about you.”

He puts a gentle finger under my chin, turning my head to look at him, and then with his two big hands, he cradles my face. “Let’s be more. Let’s be everything you dream about. Let’s be the couples you read about, baby.”

I startle awake the next morning, Aidan on my mind. I can still feel his warm hands on my face.

I keep reminding myself it wasn’t a dream the whole time I’m showering. Every time I close my eyes, I see his hopeful gaze the day he asked me to be his girlfriend. He said the right words, and he had my heart with those puppy dog eyes. I still couldn’t shake those eyes from my mind while I applied my makeup.

In my closet, the leather jacket he gave me for riding stares back at me and pain flares through my chest. I quickly change into the white jeans and new red top Mom got me yesterday and leave without grabbing earrings.

I need to get away from the memories that invade my mind. He won’t haunt me today. He won’t control my first day of college. I head out my room for breakfast. Mom is already slaving away at the stove, making eggs for everyone, while Dad is typing away at his computer, more than likely working already. Ryan is bounding down the stairs behind me and just about runs right into me in his haste.

“Watch it, dude!” I huff, walking into the kitchen and heading straight for my favorite kitchen utility—the Keurig.

“Somebody woke up on the wrong side of the bed.” He sighs, taking a seat next to Dad at the breakfast table.

“Morning, Honey. Sleep well?” Mom asks, looking up from the eggs with a warm smile.

“Not really. Pretty nervous, I guess,” I lie while stirring my steaming cup of coffee.

“Don’t worry. There’s always someone in the same shoes as you, just waiting to make a new friend.”

“I hope so. I hate making new friends. I wish Em was going to the same college.” While I’m taking my seat at the kitchen table, Mom starts dishing the plates of food, and Ryan goes to help her put the plates on the table.

“Everything happens for a reason, Celine. You and Emily are attached at the hip. It’s time to make a new friend.” My dad has stopped typing and looks at me while he says this.

“Calm down. Worst case, I’ll be your new best friend. I’ve got your back always.” Ryan says as he ruffles my perfectly styled hair, earning a shove.

“Thanks, Ry, I’ll remember that next time when I have to take the trash out and it’s pouring outside.”

“I’d rather you didn’t,” he mutters, scratching the back of his head while our parents laugh.

Fifteen minutes later, Ry and I are heading to class in his Ford. We figured going in two cars was a waste of time when we both finish at the same time today.

The closer we get to campus, the more my nerves increase. “Don’t worry. The professors are super chill here and so are the students. You’ll make a friend by the end of the day.” Ryan tries to give me a pep talk, but his efforts go to waste.

“Thanks. I’ll see you later, okay?” I say, getting out the truck after he parks.

He gives me an encouraging smile. “Knock em’ dead, Celine.” His pep talk might have failed, but he did make me laugh.

Walking into my first class, I take a seat in the middle row, all the way to the left of the room. People file in quickly, and once the short lady with graying hair known as the professor walks in, she owns the room. She keeps everyone’s attention for the entire fifty minutes, telling us stories about her experiences as a teacher.

I was excited to see the class was only half-full, and when she called attendance, I counted only fifteen people in the class. The small class sizes are what brought me to this college – I couldn’t stand the thought of being in class with a hundred people, like some of the other colleges in the area.

I had four classes all week, compared to high school where I took eight classes a day, so this is surely going to be a walk in the park. At eleven, I walk into my third class late. The room is half-full already, but the professor is out of sight. I’d gotten lost, going back and forth between the three buildings before being directed to this one where the art classes are held.

I’m not sure why creative writing is considered an art class, when all the other students in the building are in fact art majors, wearing clothes covered in paint. I don’t fit in.

At eleven-o-five, the professor still hasn’t walked in and neither have any more students. There are ten of us sitting in the small room, waiting anxiously. A minute later, the door opens and in walks the strangest man I’d ever seen, and of course, Mr. Asshole follows him. They appear to be in a heated discussion, which comes to an abrupt halt when he sees me.

“Hey, Celine!” He waves from across the room, making every single pair of eyes turn to my red face. Just my luck.

“Hey, Asshole,” I reply. He laughs and shakes his head, making his way to the empty seat on my right.

“Aren’t you just full of sunshine today?” He asks as he drops his bag to the floor and rests his helmet on the empty table.

“Just for you,” I whisper, watching the professor cautiously, not wanting to get into trouble on my first day.

“Why are you in this class?” He nudges my arm when I don’t answer, and I quickly shoot him a glare.

“I could ask you the same thing.” He rolls his eyes, and the professor starts taking attendance.

The class flies by, and I’m already in love with the professor. I know the coursework will be simple and fun. I’m both excited and nervous about the class, but more excited that I finally have a reason to force myself to write.

As I’m walking out, Asshole calls my name, gathering his belongings in a rush to catch up with me.

“Are you done for the day?” he asks, out of breath.

“No, I have one more.” I’m looking down at my phone to see where my next class is.

“Do you know where it is?” Of course, I don’t, but I’m not going to admit that to him.

“Yes, bye, Asshole.” I start to walk away, probably in the wrong direction. I have my nose in my phone, trying to text Ry and ask for directions.

“What class is it, Celine? This is my second year here, so I know all the shortcuts.” Ace snatches my phone from my typing fingers and rolls his eyes. “Ryan can’t always save your ass.”

“He certainly can try. Like I said, Asshole, I don’t need your help. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I don’t want to be late.” I grab my phone back and walk away, but he grabs my elbow and whirls me around.

“Goddamn, woman, can you stop being a bitch for just one fucking minute? I’m trying to be polite, but you’re making it impossible.” We are so close now, just like last night, and I’m overwhelmed by the emotion in his eyes.

“I’m going to be late. Point me in the right direction.” I show him the picture of my schedule on my phone, and he winces.

“I highly suggest you switch out of that class. Prof is an asshole. It’s in the same building as your first class, but on the third floor.” I laugh because he speaks as though he isn’t a giant pain in my ass.

“I think I can handle another asshole.” He shakes his head, a smirk forming on his lips.

“I’m serious, Celine. Let me know how it goes. He doesn’t have the best rep around here.” He points in the direction I need to go and walks off in the other direction without saying goodbye.

I would never, and I mean never, tell Ace he’s right about the professor. Apparently, his reputation really did precede him, and I’m the only one who doesn’t know. One other girl and I sat in a class of at least twenty guys while the professor went on about how men are superior and then had the audacity to slide in suggestive remarks to us. One good thing did come from the class – I’d now made a friend.

The other girl in the class is a redhead named Amber. Her spirit is just as hot as her hair. She had me giggling throughout the entire class, and she curses worse than a sailor, which we have in common.

“Us girls have to stick together when there’s psychos like this in the room,” she whispers as she sat next to me at the beginning of class. I knew with one look at the girl that we would be good friends.

We’d shared numbers and were already texting each other while I walked to the parking lot, where I hoped Ryan would be waiting.

Amber: Do you think we can report Prof dickwad?

Me: Apparently, he has a reputation

Amber: Bullshit! He would’ve been fired

Me: Let’s report him for the hell of it

Amber: You read my mind, txt you later, starting another class. Wish you were here!

I’d spotted Ry talking to a pretty blonde by the main building as I walked past, so I decided I should wait at the truck like a good sister and not make a scene for his sake. I’d just opened the tailgate and sat down when one of the guys from my previous class walked up to me.

If I’d never met Mr. Asshole, this guy would’ve been cute, hot even, but he was average now. With caramel brown hair and matching eyes, he looked more like a golden retriever to me.

“Hey, Celine, right?” His voice is high-pitched and makes me think about the eighth grade, when none of the boys had hit puberty yet.

What’s his name again?

“Shit, did I mess that up? Is it Amber, then?” He looked really nervous now as sweat gathered along his hairline. He definitely could’ve blamed the heat – it had to be at least ninety degrees outside.

“No, it’s Celine. What’s up?” I remembered to speak. He smiles, the one guys use in the movies before they drop a lame pick-up line.

“Didn’t take you as a truck driver.”

“’Cause I’m not.” I try to smile, but it’s hot, and I’m unamused.

“That sucks, ’cause it’s hot. Means you don’t mind getting down and dirty.” He winks, running his hand through his hair.

Does he think this is attractive? Hot even? Oh, God, have mercy on his soul.

“I do like to get down and dirty. I’m just more of a Jeep girl.” I smile, and his cheeks turn bright red, almost as dark as my shirt. I want to laugh but cover it with a cough.

“Wanna come over to my place? It’s just down the road. You can show me just how down and dirty you can get.” His smile is big, way too fucking big.

“You live off campus, baby?” I ask. I might as well have some fun.

“Yeah, I have a whole apartment to myself. A nice big, king-sized bed, big enough for us to get to know each other, if you know what I mean.” He’s looking at me like I’m his next meal.

“Sounds perfect. Let me just ask my boyfriend what he thinks. Ry, do you mind if I go over to his place?” I’d seen Ryan walking over with Ace, and the two of them look at me. Ryan knows exactly what I’m up to since I’ve done it so many times. Hell, both of us have.

Mr. Asshole, on the other hand, doesn’t look pleased. Too bad I don’t care what he thinks.

“B-boyfriend?” Golden retriever boy stutters, his eyes wide as saucers.

“Hey, man, you wanna fuck my girlfriend?” Ryan hollers, coming to stand in front of this idiot, slinging his arm over my shoulders. Ace looks downright confused.

“Nah, man. Sorry, bro. Thought she was single.” This idiot is a mess. Backing up as he talks, he stumbles into a car, and I’m trying so hard not to laugh.

“Come on, don’t ruin all the fun. Can’t keep me to yourself.” I wink at the boy whose eyes are even bigger than before, and his jaw is on the ground.

“Get outta here, asshole,” Ryan says, looking at me and rolling his eyes.

“You ruin all my fun,” I whine as Ry throws his bag in the back of the truck, and I chuck mine inside, too.

“You’re a piece of work, Celine,” Ace says, stifling his laughter.

“Correction, Asshole, I’m funny,” I reply. Ryan rolls his eyes again. I hope they fall out.

“Are you coming over later?” Ryan asks, and Ace nods as he walks to his bike a few spots away from us. Ryan turns to me. “No trouble here, Celine. Don’t get us suspended again – like high school. Have fun, mess around, but don’t bring me into it. I won’t be playing a game of you crying wolf.”

One time when I was a sophomore, I got us both suspended from school for teasing a boy, a junior in the same graduating class as Ryan, who then tried to stick his tongue down my throat and his hands up my shirt. Ryan came and promptly punched him unconscious with one hit.

Ryan was mad because his girlfriend at the time didn’t want to be with him anymore after she saw how violent he was. And especially the fact that he would include me in a lot of things they did. She was a jealous bitch.

Sucks that blood is thicker than water, otherwise they’d still be dating.

“I won’t cry wolf, Ryan. I know what I’m getting myself into. I was waiting for you, so I decided to find some entertainment. Not my fault you wanted to suck face with the bimbo.”

“At least, I wasn’t giving ‘fuck me’ eyes to perverts.”

“As if any perverts would want you.”

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