Page 71 of Never Kiss the Bad Boy
“What?”
“The family dinner Kayla invited you to. It’s tonight. And it’s me asking. Will you go with me?”
“I thought…” She tilts her head, hesitant to say what she thought, but then confesses, “I thought you needed the ride because you were skipping it.”
That’s logical. She heard Kayla mention it, and I showed up unexpectedly at her doorstep not too long before dinner. And the truth is, if she hadn’t been home or won’t go with me, I’m not going. I can admit that to myself, at least, and I’ll have to deal with whatever wrath Kayla brings down on me later.
“Are you sure you want me to? Just because Kayla?—”
I cut her off, not wanting her to think that for even a second. “I’m not sure I want to go, but if I am, I want you by my side. I need you there with me.”
Dani climbs off the bike, and I instantly feel adrift. Except she comes around and climbs back on, sitting in front of me on the gas tank with her legs thrown over mine. She lifts my chin with a finger, drawing my eyes to hers. “If you want me there, I’ll go, but I’m not putting pressure on you. I don’t need us to go that fast.”
“What if I do?” I ask, wrapping my arms around her waist.
Her eyes search mine, then scan my face, waiting for more. When I stay quiet, needing her to say yes before I tell her the rest, she nods. “Okay. Let’s go to dinner.”
I lay my forehead against hers, wanting to believe it, needing to hold her to that promise. But I won’t. If she wants to bail after I tell her everything, I’ll take her home. I won’t go to my family’s dinner, but I won’t force her to go if she doesn’t want to after she knows.
I sigh heavily, the words stuck in my throat. “Then I need to tell you about my family.”
She pulls back, looking at me. “You’re scaring me. Are you in the Mob or something?”
I’m so surprised by the question that a laugh bursts out unexpectedly. “Or something. Let’s get off so I can tell you what you’re walking into.”
She shifts a little, getting off the bike, and then I do too. There’s grass a little bit back from the edge of the road, and she sits down without a second thought, her legs bent and her forearms resting on her knees. I can’t help but appreciate that she doesn’t give a shit about getting dirty or acting like a princess who needs a fancy chair. I sit down beside her, stretching my legs out in front of me.
She waits, letting me take my time to say what I need to say. But all the blood flow that I need in my brain to figure out how to tell her about my family is now in my dick.
I swallow the sour taste in my mouth and start slowly. “Everything I’ve told you is the truth. My company, my house, my truck, my bike… all of it, I worked my ass off for it, starting from nothing and earning it with my own blood, sweat, and tears.”
“But?” she prompts, hearing it before I say it, and I can feel tension shoot through her.
“But I didn’t come from nothing. My parents have money. I was raised with money. A… lot of money. I walked away from it, not wanting their pity support any more than I wanted their looks of disappointment. But if you’re going with me, I want you to be prepared.”
“Are you trying to tell me you’re like a secret prince or something?” She’s joking, trying to put together what I’m saying, which admittedly doesn’t sound bad, with the seriousness with which I’m saying it.
I shake my head. “Not in title. In funds? Probably. But it’s not mine. I didn’t earn it, and I don’t have anything to do with it and never will.”
She narrows her eyes, hearing the emphasis I put on that. “Do you think I’m some kind of gold digger or something?” she snaps, her confusion turning to offense in a blink.
I hold my hands up. “No, not at all. That’s not why I didn’t tell you, nor is it why I’m telling you now.”
She doesn’t look convinced.
“When I was younger and desperate for attention, I got it however I could. I told you that.” She nods hesitantly. “And honestly, as a teen and even a bit later, it mostly came from girls. They wanted to fuck around with the bad boy.” I roll my eyes at the label I’ve been given more times than I can count. “But with the added bonus that if they could lock me down, it’d be like winning the lottery. I took advantage of their wanting a future they thought I could provide. I won’t lie about that.”
“I’m picturing all the girls in the land lining up for Prince Charming, but getting to the front of the line to find… you.” If anyone else told me that, it’d sound like an insult. Dani sounds like she’s finding a bit of humor in it, even grumbling under her breath, “It serves them right for looking at you like a paycheck.”
I shrug, admitting, “You’re not too far off. It was sorta like that.”
I think back to the girls at school who’d call me, text me, show up at my house, or sneak out so I could pick them up in one of Dad’s cars that I’d swiped from the garage. I treated them like shit, being disrespectful and hurtful, all the while doing dangerous things like partying, drag racing, and fucking around.
I’m not proud of my past, but regretting who I was won’t do any good now. I learned, I grew, and I’m different. That’s the best I can do.
“But girls only wanting me for a good time, or because of my family’s money, got tiresome.” I go quiet, remembering what eventually became my wake-up call. “I was out with my family, eating dinner at a fancy restaurant I didn’t give a shit about, and some girl’s dad came up and confronted me. I didn’t even remember her name at the time, but he was screaming, calling me an entitled brat who treated girls like toys.” I look at Dani as I confess, “I laughed at him, not because he was wrong, but because he was right. And not just girls. I treated everyone that way—friends, girls, family—because to me, they were disposable, interchangeable, worthless… just like me.”
“Kyle—”