Free The Bad Boy's Dance by Vera Calloway Page B

illegal.
                  Chewing my bottom lip contemplatively, I didn’t notice him flicking the radio on until rock metal was blasting from my stereo. I swerved in surprise, making a driver going in the opposite direction shout curses at me.
                  “Warn me next time!” I hollered at the smirking bastard.
                  “Where’s the fun in that?”
                  “You would risk me driving the both of us off a cliff for a good laugh at me?”
                  “Don’t blame me for your lackluster driving skills,” Asher countered.
                  “Oh please, if my driving skills were lackluster I would have squished you like a bug when you jumped in front f my car!” If only I hadn’t pressed the brakes so fast…don’t get me wrong, I wouldn’t have hit him or anything. Just…given him a little love tap with my car.
                  Parking in front of his mansion, I crossed my arms and waited for him to exit.
                  When he didn’t move, I glanced over to see him staring at me speculatively. “Listen,” he started, but stopped. Was he nervous? That’d be a new one. “You can’t say anything to anyone about what you saw today.”
                  “But aren’t you eighteen?” Stupidly, I thought the reason he was worried I’d tell anyone was because his parents would punish him.
                  He rolled his eyes, but a small smile curled the edges of his lips. “Yes, but that’s irrelevant. You can’t tell anyone. Do you understand?”
                  Pausing, I thought it over. “On a condition,” I asserted. Wouldn’t want to be a complete pushover, now would I?
                  He ran a hand through his dark tangles warily. “What?”
                  “You explain everything to me by Friday. After we turn in our project. Like it or not, we’re stuck together for the next few months, and the only way for us not to throttle each other is to be upfront. Capiche?”
                  Considering, he moved his thumb nail along his full bottom lip. It was mesmerizing.
                  Snap out of it!
                  “You’ve got yourself a deal. I’ll explain whatever I think you need to know for us to finish this project,” he implied. My brows drew together. He’d phrased that suspiciously, but it was something.
                  Accepting his outstretched hand, I ignored the sparks jumping between our skin. “That means you can’t tell Dana or Caleb,” he checked, as if I’d missed that. Dang it, evading Dana’s interrogation was gonna be hell.
                  “Got it. Now shoo, my Mom’s on the warpath!”
                  Chuckling, he slid gracefully from my car. Before I could zip away though, he leaned into the window, and a breathtaking smile crossed his face.
                  “And Ivy?”
                  “Yes?”
                  “My car’s not really in the shop.”
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    Chapter Eight
    Don’t Make Me Pull a Red Foreman
                 
                 
     
    Sunday morning, Paul was greeted by balloons and a weepy mother.
                  “Paul, honey, I’ve missed you so much! Why don’t you visit more often? Are the kids nice to you in college? You’d better not be surviving on Top Ramen!” she blubbered. Paul was embarrassed as he consoled a teary Mom and he waved at us in turn.
                  “Move over Amelia, give the other’s some time with the boy,” Dad said gruffly before pulling Paul into a man-hug, which basically consisted of slapping each other’s backs and muttering.
                  I took my opening and embraced my big brother. “Imagine living