Rich Prick by Tijan

12

Aspen

Iwas on my second night camping, and had some distance from the whole gas station debacle now, but I couldn’t shake the Owens. Those are my blues, when I’m sad.

I’d freaked out at the gas station because of Blaise. He was so intense, so right there, so in my face. He cared. He actually, seriously cared, and I’d fallen apart. Then as I’d watched how he faced off against his brother, I was amazed. I couldn’t believe that was his brother, because I knew his brother. I’d met his brother. I’d met his brother’s whole group, and Bren. I remembered her. She was nice.

They’d been in the woods at a bonfire one time when someone called the cops. I helped them out, though one guy had been mean to me.

But back to Blaise.

Gah. Blaise.

The kissing.

The looks.

He’d been pissed that I spent time alone, but I hadn’t had time to explain that I preferred to be alone. Some people are just loners. Since Owen died, that was me. Life was easiest this way, and I’d made my peace with it. I’d accepted it. I’d probably never date or have someone love me, and that was okay. For real.

But then there he was, getting angry—not at me, but for me.

I’d felt myself swooning all over again, and then Blaise’s friends drove up. They were a splash of cold water. I saw Mara looking at me, and there was such sadness in her eyes.

Mara Daniels was gorgeous.

I knew she had a history with Blaise, current history, actually, and if she was looking at me like that, what hope did I have? I already was crushing on him, and now? Now I was gone.

Done.

Hook, line, sinker. Actually, I’d already been hooked and lined. I’d just sunk. Kerplop. All the way to the bottom of the ocean. There I was, falling for him.

He was so hot facing off against his brother. And his brother was hot too, but Blaise was hotter than hot. He had this golden, rich-prick aura around him that I knew shouldn’t have made him hotter, but it did because it made him a badass too. Dangerous.

I shivered, remembering how it felt to touch him, be pressed up against him. And man, I had the Owens again because I couldn’t go there.

But because I apparently wanted to make myself even more Owens, I pulled up the text messages.

Blaise: You okay?

No. No, I wasn’t. But I hadn’t replied to him.

Thirty minutes later:

Blaise: Can you let me know if you’re alive?

Five minutes later:

Blaise: Seriously.

Two minutes later:

Blaise: You scared to text? Or should I start calling hospitals? I’ll do it.

And to that, I had to respond.

Me: I’m camping. I’m fine.

He didn’t reply for five very long minutes.

Blaise: Good to know.

I sighed, replying after that because I was a sucker for punishment.

Me: I freaked. It’s hard to talk.

Blaise: I get that, but I was worried.

Me: I’m not used to people worrying.

Blaise: Well, that’s fucked up. Even my non-bio dad who hates me would worry.

Me: That’s…fucked up too? I dunno.

Blaise: It’s cool. As long as you’re okay.

I hadn’t known how to respond to that, so I didn’t.

Then twenty minutes later:

Blaise: Download this app.

Me: Okay. Done. Why did I do that?

Blaise: So I can find you if you stop texting me because a bear has eaten you.

Ooooh. A whole wash of warm emotions had come over me, and I’d choked back tears as I replied.

Me: Oh.

Blaise: Talk later. Have fun camping, now I won’t worry so much.

Damn.

Damn!

Damn.That was nice of him.

I’d flicked away a tear.

Me: Okay. You too.

I hadn’t asked what he was doing that night, and I hadn’t asked all day long today. He’d sent a couple texts checking in, asking how my night was, if I was cold, what did I actually do when I camped… And because I didn’t want to go deep and potentially depressing, I’d told him the surface stuff.

I read. I relaxed. I enjoyed the water.

But mostly, I felt close to my brother out here. Except on this trip. For some reason, on this trip, Owen wasn’t being all Owen-y, and I wasn’t feeling him with me. Instead, I was thinking about Blaise, remembering Blaise.

Blaise distracted me.

What was Blaise doing?

Was he partying?

Was he drunk?

Had he kissed Mara Daniels?

Had he done more than that with Mara?

I shouldn’t have been thinking like that. We’d kissed. Once. We’d hooked up. Once. One time. There’d be no repeats, not for wallflower girls like me. We didn’t get guys like that interested in us. But every time I thought that, I’d pull up our text messages.

If he didn’t care, why was he texting me?

Blaise DeVroe was not a good guy. I mean, he was being a good guy to me, but he wasn’t normally known to be nice, caring, or sweet. He was known to be blunt and a dick, and I’d seen enough to know that was accurate.

My head swam, all confused. What did this mean?

As if he knew I was thinking about him, my phone buzzed.

Blaise: I’m coming to hang out with you.

I jerked upright.

Me: What? No.

Blaise: Then you come back. Shit. Did you have to go camping so far away? That’s over an hour drive.

My heart beat fast. My palms were sweaty.

Me: Don’t come here. I camp alone. It’s what I do. Alone.

Blaise: I’m tired of my friends and I want to hang out with you. Either you pack up and come here or I’m coming there.

I was going to have a heart attack. I felt my chest tightening.

Blaise: I don’t have to stay the whole time, just for the night.

Blaise: Please.

Okay. Heart-melting moment here. I smiled before I realized I was smiling.

Me: Fine.

I frowned.

Me: That app really leads you to me?

Blaise: Yep. I’m only thirty minutes away. Buckle up, be there soon. I’m bringing booze.

Oh great.I didn’t drink, like ever. He was violating my camping-alone policy, and if he brought alcohol, I’d probably succumb and have one, so there went my no-drinking policy too.

Me: You’re a bad influence already.

Blaise: Tough shit.

Of course. Typical badass response. This shouldn’t have sent me even deeper into my crush, but it did because I was just another stupid girl.

I couldn’t wait for him to get here.