“Who the fuck you callin’ old boy? You cruisin’ for a bruisin’? You sure you wanna start somethin?” he asks, squaring up to me, and we both chuckle.
“Go on. Get lost!” he demands, gesturing to the door.
I follow his orders, my mood only slightly improved by the work out and the thought of tearing my opposition down tonight.
Probably best if Bella doesn’t come; she already thinks I’m a monster for giving her nightmares back when we were kids and for makin’ her marry me. She doesn’t give two shits that I have about as much say in who I marry as she does. The only difference between Bella and I, when it comes to our marriage, is that if I did get a say so, I’d choose her every fuckin’ time. Arranged or not, she is the only woman worthy of marrying, and I’ve been with enough to know that.
She isn’t like the others. I’d bet serious money she’s still a virgin, and from what I can tell, she is genuinely a good gypsy girl. She goes to church, spends most of her time with her family, and when she’s not with them, she’s at the library.
It’s not that she doesn’t respect our culture, she just wants more for herself than to get married. I respect that about her; I can relate to it. If she had given me half a chance, I would have explained to her ages ago that she doesn’t need to give up her hobbies if she’s married to me. She can spend as long as she wants in the fucking library if it makes her happy. She wouldn’t need to worry about work; the money from my fights is more than enough to give her everything she wants and then some.
Bella isn’t interested in hearing me out. She’s made it perfectly clear that the day I’d be her first choice is the day hell freezes over.
Chapter Three
Bella
“What did Mr. Mculloch say?” Harlow demands to know as soon as I walk around the corner. She obviously waited for me the whole time.
“Not much. Basically, unless I up my writing game, I’m not getting my A Plus, which means I’m never going to get a decent internship after we finish.” I let out a heavy sigh and link my arm through hers as she groans in frustration.
“Did he say anything else… anything useful?”
“Only that I need to add more passion; he feels as though something is off. I sense that, too. Sometimes, I feel like a fraud when writing, but I can’t put my finger on what’s missing.”
“You’ve got this. Try not to overthink, too much. Let the ideas come to you,” she suggests. “In the meantime, what you need is a break, and I have just the thing.”
“You do?”
“Yep. Gav asked me to meet him for some food later, and I said you’d be there because guess who else is coming?”
“Shut up.”
“Addy Alonso… Addy Alonso,” she chants his name while doing some whack arm-wave dance move that should never happen in public.
“No way.”
“Yes way. It’s practically a double date… Gav and me. You and Addy. It’s all falling into place.”
“Will you cut it out? He might not even like me.”
“He might not even like me,” she echoes in a high-pitched tone, pretending to play with her hair all coy-like.
I shove her playfully in the ribs. “Pack it in.”
“Fine. But you seriously need to accept that you and Addy are going to happen, and tonight is probably going to be the start of something amazing that will be all thanks to me.”
“I really don’t think I’m his type,” I mumble as we make our way outside to the parking lot.
“Now, I know you’re not serious. Sweetie, you’re every man’s type, and you fucking know it. Jesus, you’re my type and I’m as straight as that lamp post,” she says in an exasperated tone that makes us both laugh.
“Fine. What are you wearing? Let me go and get some jeans on. I’d rather go casual if Addy’s going to be there. I’m not having him thinking I’ve dressed up for him.”
She eyes me up and down, taking in my pink short co-ord suit and shaking her head.
“There’s no time. I said we’d meet them at four; we’re going straight there… It’s fine. You look gorgeous. I look gorgeous. We’re good. We’re doing this.”
She’s so matter of fact and nonchalant about the fact we’re meeting up with two of the most popular boys at college. Probably because she’s been hanging out with Gav so much lately, she’s practically his official girlfriend, but with Addy, it’s way more complicated.
First, there is the whole marriage thing hanging over my head. Even though I’m one hundred-percent committed to not marrying Hunter, it would still kill my family if they found out I’d sort of, somehow, in a weird way, cheated on him. I mean, it’s not really cheating because I’m not in any kind of relationship with Hunter, but my family wouldn’t see it like that.
Then, there’s the small fact that Addy has no idea who I really am, and I have no intentions of giving away my true identity to him or anyone else. Last, but by no means least, is how deliciously stunning he is compared to me. I’ve only been near him a couple of times when Harlow had been making small talk with Gav, but it was enough to notice.
Watching him playing football is one thing, but standing just a few inches away from him is another. Addy is exquisitely hot, and he has this way about him. It’s always insanely awkward between us because neither of us know what to say to each other, and he gives me this look that says, ‘I’m better than you and you know it.’
It mostly makes me want to slam my heel down on his toes, but a small part of me notices something behind the smouldering pig-headed gaze. The girl part of me detecting the masculine part of him that wants me, or wants my body at least.
Which reminds me of the other reason tonight is going to be so excruciatingly awkward. The V-word. Yep, I’m a virgin. It’s totally normal for everyone I know, but at CamU, and especially around Addy, I feel like it might as well be tattooed across my forehead it’s that obvious and that weird.
“Where are we meeting them?”
“At Geppetto’s so we might as well walk.”
“All right. Let me throw some stuff in your car first,” I add as we make our way across the lot. Pulling my bag open, I empty out my English books and dump them on her passenger seat along with my crappy English assignment while Harlow tops up her lip gloss using the camera on her phone as a mirror. A few selfies later, we’re making our way to Geppetto’s, and I have butterflies in my stomach at the thought of sharing a table with the hottest guy in college.
What am I supposed to say to him? How do you start a conversation with someone who’s so good looking that freshman dare each other to approach him and ask for couple selfies?
My worries about conversation are substantiated when we come face to face with Gav and Addy in their window seat. They almost fill the booth due to their height and size, so we have no choice but to sit next to each of them. Of course, Harlow slides in beside Gav and launches into a full-blown rant about how the cute guy on Bliss Island stood the girl up on America’s most popular dating show. From the look Gav gives Addy, I really don’t think he cares at all, but Harlow doesn’t take one bit of notice. That’s Harlow when she’s on one, no one’s getting a word in anytime soon.