Bad Girl Reputation by Elle Kennedy

“Ooh, that looks good.”

Speak of the fucking devil.

Completely blindsiding us, Evan suddenly drops a chair at our table and sits down between Harrison and me.

He grabs a scallop off my plate and pops it in his mouth. His daring gaze flicks to me with a self-satisfied grin. “Hey.”

Unbelievable.

My jaw doesn’t know whether to drop or tighten, so it alternates between the two disparate movements, I’m sure making me appear unhinged. “You’re out of your mind,” I growl.

“Brought you something.” He places a green Blow Pop on the table, then appraises me with almost lewd interest. “You look nice.”

“Nope. Not doing this. Go home, Evan.”

“What?” he says with mock innocence. He licks lemon-butter sauce from his fingers. “You’ve made your point. I came to spring you from this stuck-up nightmare.”

He stands out among the other diners, wearing a black T-shirt and black jeans, hair wind-tossed, and all of him smelling like motorcycle exhaust.

“Come on.” Harrison, to his credit, takes the interruption in stride. A bit confused as he questions me with his eyes, but maintaining a polite smile. “We’re having a nice time. Let the lady finish her dinner in peace. I’m sure whatever you two have to talk about can wait until later.”

“Oh, shit.” Laughing, Evan cocks his head at me. “This guy’s serious? Where’d you find him? I mean, damn, Gen, you’re basically dating our seventh-grade science teacher.”

That wipes the friendly smile from Harrison’s face.

“Evan, stop it.” I grab his arm. “You’re not funny.”

“Alright, I’ve asked you nicely,” Harrison says. He stands up and I’m reminded of all the times cops chased me and Evan out of convenience store parking lots and abandoned buildings. “Now I’m telling you. Leave.”

“It’s fine,” I warn Harrison. “I’ve got it.”

Still holding Evan’s arm, I tighten my grip. There’s no way I’m letting him start a brawl in the middle of this restaurant and get his ass thrown in jail for breaking a cop’s nose.

“Please, Evan,” I say flatly. “Just go.”

He ignores the request. “Remember when this place was a clothing store?” Evan leans in closer, brushing his fingers over my hand on his arm, which I snatch away from his touch. “Did you tell him about the time we did it in the dressing room while the church ladies were just outside the door trying on their Sunday hats?”

“Screw you.” My voice shakes with anger, cold and brittle, the words barely passing through my lips as my throat constricts. I’d slap him if I didn’t know for certain it would only encourage his sabotage. The more emotion Evan can pull from me, the more proof he has to continue his pursuit.

Pushing back from the table to stand, I catch a brief glimpse of Harrison’s sympathetic gaze before I turn away and leave.

I hit the railing that separates the boardwalk from the beach below like a car slamming into an embankment. I might have kept on walking into the ocean, blind with rage, if it hadn’t stopped me. I want to throw something. Launch a brick through a storefront window to hear it shatter. Take a baseball bat to a china shop. Anything to get this restless static out of my arms, the thick, stone-hard ball of fury throbbing in my chest.

When I hear footsteps behind me, my fist tightens. A hand touches my arm and I’m mid-swing when I turn to see Harrison with his hands up, braced for impact.

“Oh gosh, I’m sorry.” I drop my hands. “I thought you were Evan.”

Harrison laughs nervously and flashes a relieved smile. “No worries. This is what all those de-escalation courses are for at the academy.”

It’s sweet, his commitment to deflecting everything with a joke and a heaping, sugary spoonful of optimism. I don’t have that stuff in me.

“Really, though. I’m sorry for everything back there. That was so embarrassing. I’d make some excuse for him, but Evan’s kind of a jerk on his best days.” I lean over the railing, resting my arms on the splintered wood. “And here all you did was say hi in a bar to be nice. Bet you didn’t expect all this drama, huh? Got more than you bargained for.”

“Nah, I knew there was a chance I’d have a pissed-off Hartley on my ass if I went out with you.”

I lift a brow. “Oh really?”

“We went to the same high school,” he reminds me, his voice wry but gentle. “Everyone had a front-row seat to the Genevieve and Evan show.”

Embarrassment heats my cheeks, and I avert my eyes. Somehow, knowing Harrison witnessed our high school antics is even more humiliating than having Evan crash this date.

“Hey. Don’t look away like that. Everyone has baggage.” He comes to lean against the railing beside me. “We’ve all got a past. Things we’d rather people not judge us for. How can anyone grow if we only let them be who they were yesterday, right?”

I glance over in surprise. “That’s an unusual outlook for a cop.”

“Yeah, I get that a lot.”

We stand there for a while, just listening to the waves and watching the way the lights of the boardwalk float on the water. I’m about to pack it in, pick up my dignity off the ground and head home, when Harrison makes another suggestion.