20. Bellamy

TWENTY

bellamy

Arlo cut through the freshly mowed lawn, clutching a Mason jar while he attempted to catch fireflies. I tinkered with the edger, finally getting it to start. I hated doing this shit, but Dad wouldn't do it and Mom got embarrassed when the yard looked like shit.

"Bubba?" Arlo shouted over the whir of the engine. "Can I water the flowers?"

"Yeah. Sure. Just not where I'm working."

Movement across the street caught my attention when Drew stepped out of Nora's house. I hated, absolutely hated, that I'd tried texting her several times over the day just to see if she'd unblocked me. Drew Morgan shouldn't matter. She'd gotten me arrested. Given me blue balls the entire time she was evidently screwing around with Bennett, demolished my car, and caused this insane amount of jealousy to erupt in me like an angry volcano. Then she had blocked my number. But damn, if that sundress didn't hug her in all the right places, and the way she walked like some Victoria Secret model on a runway just made it all the worse.

She crossed Nora's yard, her gaze every so often directing toward me. The urge to say something rose its head like an angry serpent, and I tried to fight it. I tried to act like I couldn't give two shits less, but by the time she stepped off the curb, I couldn't stand it any longer. I needed a reaction.

Cutting the engine to the weed-eater, I swiped at the sweat trickling down my stomach. "Didn't get enough to look at last night?" I grabbed the waist of my jeans and tugged them down to my hairline.

No reaction. She completely ignored me, then stopped beside a rundown SUV and opened the driver's side door.

Literally couldn't stand it. "I see Bennett listened to you and didn't press charges." Her ignoring me was doing things to me...

Her chin dropped to her chest, then she slammed the door and marched across the street. "What the hell do you want from me?" She stormed up my drive, coming to halt a few feet in front of me. "You got your blow job."

This was fresh rage, and I seriously doubted it was over sucking my dick. And I wanted to know exactly what it was over. "And it was a decent blow job at best." That was a lie. It was the best damn blow job I had ever had.

"Well, don't worry. It won't be happening again." She narrowed her eyes. "I'm done with you, Bellamy."

And that, I wouldn't stand for. No way in hell would I let this girl be done with me so she could ride off into the sunset with some Barrington prick. Not when she'd put me through pure hell and misery.

"Nah, baby girl." I closed the space between us, pressing my sweaty chest against her folded arms. "You're not done with me."

"Why do you care? I hear you have a new Barrington girl to entertain you."

I fought the smirk that wanted to rip across my face. She'd only care about a girl if she cared about me—but then she was messing around with Bennett, and the little bliss of victory deflated like a popped balloon. The girl was making me crazy.

"Bet it would thrill Bennett to know my conquest of other women has his girl all livid with jealousy," I said as I swept a piece of hair behind her ear. All I could think about was how good her lips felt against mine—how good they felt wrapped around my dick, my hands in her hair. But above all else how much I wanted this—this push and pull between us. I trailed my fingers down the column of her throat, resisting so many things I wanted to do to her. "I guess he's not quite figured out how to make you come as hard as I do, huh?"

She finally slapped my hand away. "I didn't come the second time. Just got used. So, I guess we're even now."

The sting that accompanied that comment was unexpected. Because I didn't want her to think I'd used her. Last night, I had been pissed and, as much as I hated to admit it, even to myself, jealous. All night I'd watched Bennett touch her, watched her smile at him with her legs wrapped around his neck in that pool, and I had snapped. Had Bennett not interrupted us by banging on that door—I have no idea what may have happened or how this may be different right now. But he had, and I'd defaulted to the part every girl expected me to play—the part of the non-caring asshole so I didn't look like the one with a weakness.

"Stop with the bullshit, Drew. I wanted to use you just as much as you wanted to use me." That was a vague enough response that she could take it however she wanted. One that was safe, and made it seem like I was no more invested in whatever this shit was than her.

"Like I said, we're even."

Even. Hell no we weren't even, and I sure as hell wasn't done with this. I doubted she was, either. "You think blocking my number's gonna fix this?"

She ducked her chin to her chest. "I think it's best if we stay away from each other."

Best? Probably. But how often in life did anyone do what was best for them when the shit that would kill them was so much damn fun.

The spray of the garden hose shot past me to the half-dead rose bush. "What's the gas station lady doing here?" Arlo ran up beside me.

"Just leaving. Go water the plants by the house." My gaze was homed in on Drew. On every breath, each small tic of her jaw. "Now, Arlo."

"You're a butthole!" he huffed before I heard water spray against the siding.

Drew was still right there because, just like me, I'd bet she hated this just as much as she enjoyed it. There was something about her I couldn't get enough of, and I was pretty sure that made me batshit crazy.

I leaned down and touched my lips to her ear. "You know damn well we won't stay away from each other." I latched onto her arm. "Don't fool yourself, Drew."

She attempted to pull away, and I yanked her right back, then placed an arm across the small of her back, trapping her small frame against me. "And you know how I know you won't leave me alone? Because you're defiant, and you crave this kind of fucking chaos that your daddy's money can't buy."

Her hands went to my chest. Her lips were close enough that I could taste each uneven breath. Part of me wanted to kiss her while the other part of me wanted to fist her hair and fuck her into willing submission. But before either could happen, a stream of cold water pelted my side.

My muscles tensed, and Drew jumped back on a scream.

"Arlo!" When I spun around, he dropped the hose and scurried back a few steps.

"That's what Daddy does when the neighbor's dogs start wrestling in the yard." His nose wrinkled. "I don't want you to wrestle with that lady. And I'mma tell Hendrix on you. He told me to tell if a lady that looked like one of the girls from Daddy's nudey magazines came over. She looks like one of them. ‘Cause she's pretty and got those big ole' lips."

I frowned. How in the hell had Arlo gotten into Dad's stash of Playboy , and since when was my little brother selling me out for Hendrix?

I turned around as Drew climbed into that rundown SUV. The brake lights flashed, then the engine rumbled to life.

Arlo drew a line through the grass with his toe, then crossed his arms over his chest on a huff. "Why are you trying to wrestle with her, Bubba. You said she's en-en-en-something. And that they're the ones that poop on you."

I scrubbed a hand over his head, the tension and anger that had been rolling through me quickly disappearing. "Right…"

"I don't want her to poop on you."

I watched her taillights round the corner. "Yeah. Me neither, buddy."

And if there were ever a girl that was going to take a shit on me, it was that one.

Medusa is at 2112 Barrington Cove.

The notification came through as I pulled to a stop in front of Arlo's friend's house. And that meant she'd unblocked my number. Because she knew I was right—she craved this madness.

I clicked on the notification, watching that little blue dot move toward Bennett's address. I knew, one hundred percent, I should disable this stupid app, but some sick part of me refused to let the decent part of me win that battle.

"See you later, Bubba!" Arlo threw his arms around my neck before hopping out of the car, backpack already on his shoulder.

"Wait a second!" I climbed over my center console and jogged after him up the sidewalk to the front of his friend's house.

"You're a helicopter brother." He nudged me, then knocked on the door. "That's what Jessie says."

"Jessie's a punk…"

The door cracked, and a woman with round glasses peeked over the chain lock. "Oh, Arlo. It's you." The door closed so she could unfasten the lock. And the second it swung open again, Arlo sprinted inside, tackling his friend to the carpet.

"I'll pick him up at ten tomorrow?"

She nodded. "That's perfect. Have a good night." She went to close the door, but I slapped a palm over it.

"He's allergic to Goldfish snacks. So, no cheese crackers or cheese puffs."

She smiled. "Okay."

Then I went back to the car and checked my phone again. Drew was still at Jackson's. I told myself it didn't matter. That if she was that much of a—whatever—to screw around with me then go back to Jackson, that none of it mattered. She was just like any other girl I'd ever been with.

But by the time I pulled up to Hendrix's house, I knew that was a lie. Because I'd checked that app two more times. And three hours later, Hendrix, Wolf, and I had Jackson hogtied in the back of Wolf's truck, Special Delivery scribbled across his face along with a masterpiece of dicks drawn in Sharpie over his cheeks.