Bad Boys & True Love

“Surprise?” I echoed dubiously.

The rain was falling a little harder now, each drop hitting me like a minute bullet, and the more he drove the more pissed off I could feel myself becoming. It wasn’t my fault I didn’t have the foresight to bring a rain jacket. Stupid Drew and his stupid motorcycle.

“Yeah,” he replied with a smile in his voice. He seemed totally unfazed by the death grip on his torso.

I squeezed my eyes shut as he made a sharp turn. “Just get me out of this rain!”

To be honest, I was in no mood for surprises. I almost hated Drew for dragging me along; I never lasted long after ballet practice anyway. I didn’t even have to strength to imagine what kind of surprise a boy like Drew Buchanan would be giving me—I kinda was afraid to find out.

He only laughed at my misery like I was a whiny little toddler and he wouldn’t let me ruin all his fun. “We’re almost there, kitten, I promise.”

I pressed my forehead to his slick leather jacket and held on for my life. He had better hurry or he’ll be sorry; kittens don’t like water very much.

I had no clue how much longer he drove—it could have been an hour, it could have been five minutes—but I knew I’d never been more thankful for anything before in all of my life as I was when he pulled into a parking lot and we ran for cover. I screamed, holding my duffle bag over my head under we were inside.

Drew was smirking cockily as he led me to a table. I looked around; we were in a diner that I had never seen before. It was ’50s style with vinyl booths and a jukebox playing the kind of music my grandfather loved.

“What is this place?” I asked, resisting the urge to ring out my hideous hair.

“Abel’s Diner,” Drew responded proudly.

I glanced at him. His dark hair was dripping down his face and off his jacket, and his chocolate-colored eyes were bright and lively. A small smile graced my lips. Sometimes he was just hard to think of him as an asshole.

“So this is my surprise?” I said conversationally.

Drew winked. “I’m buying you dinner.”

I couldn’t help myself—my cheeks turned pink. I’d had boyfriends before of course, but they’d never done something like buying me dinner. At most we’d go see a movie or something, and if we did go out to eat, I’d at least have to pay my half. And for someone like Drew Buchanan to be doing this, I found it extremely impressive.

“Well, I appreciate that,” I told him honestly.

Then he did something hard to believe. Drew—the Drew—blushed. I couldn’t wait to tell Christina. I giggled; it only made him blush harder.

Right then I wanted nothing more than to grab his hand from across the booth and hold it in mine. After all, we’d kissed and I’d even crashed at his house. What harm could a little hand-holding do?

But I chickened out. I looked out the dreary window and twiddled with my fingers. Drew wasn’t my boyfriend anyway. It was just dinner.

“You’re soaking wet,” Drew observed and I looked over to see him smirking widely.

“Fancy that.” I crossed my arms over my chest and quirked an eyebrow at him. “I wonder why…”

He shrugged somewhat apologetically. “A sacrifice that had to be made. This place will blow your mind.”

I bit back a smile. “I’m holding you to that. I just never thought of you as a Buddy Holly fan.” I gestured to the jukebox. Drew made a face—a very cute face, if I do say so myself.

The waitress came over. She was a youngish girl that had blunt, black hair that stopped just below her jaw and pretty grey eyes. Not to mention the piercings on both her eyebrow and her lower lip. She was gorgeous and I found myself shifting uncomfortably when Drew gave her a huge smile. “Hey guys! Can I get you two lovebirds something to drink?”

My face burned. Oh God. I probably should have denied to together but I was too busy holding my breath for disappointing moment when he would.

He didn’t. Instead, he said, “Fuck you,” and shot her another grin.

She rolled her eyes. “I’m afraid that’s not on the menu. Anything else?”

“Um, I’ll just take a water,” I mumbled awkwardly. She nodded and jotted it down.

“Budweiser,” Drew said confidently.

The waitress snorted. “Try again, big boy.”

“Dr Pepper,” he tried, glaring slightly. She smirked and wrote the order down.

“Alright-y, can I get you two anything else?”

“Yes,” Drew declared. “I’d like for you to dim the lights and place candles around the area to set the mood, if you will.”

My hand flew to my mouth to escape the torrent of giggles and I kicked Drew to hide the fact that I was greatly amused.

“Of course,” she waitress deadpanned and walked away.

Drew flashed me his pearly whites and laughter bubbled up my throat. I wasn’t quite sure if this qualified as a date or not, but it was surely one of the most entertaining and we hadn’t even ordered our food yet. “What? Did I do something?” he asked in reply to my giggling fit.

“Please tell me you know her,” I demanded, although I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing. I mean, she was gorgeous.

“My sister’s best friend,” he answered easily, leaning back and looking a hundred-percent relaxed. “Don’t worry, she knows I’m off-limits,” he add arrogantly, cocking an eyebrow.

“Right…” I drawled. I rested my elbow on the table and stared down at the menu. I was a bit of a picky-eater, so it took all of my strength to avoid the kiddy section.

My fingers were tapping a steady rhythm on the table when Drew suddenly grabbed my hand in his. My eyes flashed up as he held it but he was merely staring down at his own menu liked nothing had happened. Butterflies by the million erupted in my stomach. So maybe this was a date. No big deal.

So what if Drew was easily the hottest and most entertaining date I’d ever been on? I could do this. Just gotta breathe. He might even be as hot as Sean. But then again not even Drew’s dark and dangerous eyes could compare to Sean’s ocean-like ones.

Wait. I know I’m not thinking about Sean.

That would be totally uncool when Drew’s holding my hand all sweetly and buying me dinner.

“You okay, kitten?” Drew asked in a teasing voice.

I blinked rapidly for a moment. “Uh, yeah. Um. Thanks for this.”

A crash of thunder sounded, echoing for a second. I chewed on my lip and couldn’t help but think of how on Earth I’d manage getting home in this. I didn’t think I could handle riding the motorcycle in the rain once more, irrelevant how brief.

Drew squeezed my hand, bringing my eyes back to him. He groaned. “Ugh, I’m an idiot.”

My eyebrows furrowed. “Why is that? This time, I mean,” I teased.

He stared back at me unblinkingly. “Because I’m sitting on the other side of the booth and I can’t help but want to kiss you right now.”

And that’s when my third blush of the evening warmed my face. Were guys even allowed to be all charming like this? I could have sworn it was illegal, the way most boys I knew avoided it.

I tried to be confident but words failed me. By nature I wasn’t a very self-assured person. I wanted to be the girl that invited him to my side of the booth without batting an eye but it was just another thing I chickened out on.

And again Drew swooped in and solved the internal war raging inside me—by simply leaning over and stealing a kiss like he did it all the time. Which he just might have.

One blush faded into the next. If this kept up my face would be stuck a tomato-red for all of eternity. I don’t remember ever blushing so much.

Drew smiled, almost kinda shy in a way. That had to be a first. “So…not to scare you away…but you might want to get a ride home later. Unless you want to ride my Harley again,” he taunted.

I shook my head. “You couldn’t pay me.” He laughed.

The pretty waitress came by again and dropped off our drinks. “Ready to order?”

Drew looked to me for confirmation and I nodded. “Yes,” he replied, “I’d like the steak dinner with mashed potatoes and green beans and broccoli soup, well done.”

“Fat ass,” she grumbled, not looking up from her pad as she scribbled it down.

Holy shit, I thought, and told her I’d just like chicken fingers. I couldn’t imagine eating an entire steak, much less all that he ordered with it. She walked away, ignoring Drew as he mentioned candles again.

“You are a fat ass,” I joked.

He shot me a lazy glare. “At least I’m not a tiny little kitten. You must weigh ninety pounds soaking wet.”

I rolled my eyes and didn’t bother to correct him. Despite myself, I let my fingers caress his hand like it was the most interesting thing in the world. His skin was soft and warm. I could bring myself to meet his watching gaze.

It struck me how odd it was that me of all people—a shrimpy, awkward junior—would be on a date with him, especially when he usually surrounded himself with beautiful people like our waitress. I must have been one hell of a drunk if I captured his attention.

“What’s wrong, kitten?” he asked suddenly.

I hesitated before mumbling, “Do you think I’m pretty?”

Way to go, Stella. Could you be any more pathetic?

“Yeah,” he answered automatically. “Why? Don’t you?”

My face burned again and I regretting asking him. Of course he wouldn’t understand—he was beautiful and confident. I bet he never once doubted himself. He couldn’t have.

But I was nothing like him. I was almost childishly small and I had the ugliest hair and was good for basically nothing. “No,” I admitted with brutal honest. “Not really.”

Drew sighed and I felt like even more of a loser. “I never understood that about people. If you don’t like what you see in the mirror, change it. Take your boobs for example.” I shot him a look and he held up his hands in surrender, a cheesy smirk on his face. “Don’t get me wrong, they’re really awesome, but if you thought they were too small or some shit,” he continued, ignoring my death glare, “then, like, get them fixed. But like I said, I like your boobs just as much as the next guy.”

I shook my head and decided to let that slid. Not the most romantic compliment in the world but whatever. “I see what you’re saying,” I relented. “I’m not getting a boob job, but I see what you’re saying.”

He laughed and my insecurities vanished for now. This time it was me who leaned over the table and stole a kiss.