Bad for You by Weston Parker

20

BRITTANY

On Saturday morning, Tristin arrived early to pick me up. We only had a two-hour drive ahead of us, but he’d convinced me to make the most of our time away by getting a head start on the day.

My bags were packed and ready when he got there, pulling up in front of my house in a flashy sports car with doors that opened vertically. Sometimes it was easy to forget who he was and where he came from.

He had his feet planted firmly on the ground—now that he wasn’t a pilot anymore, anyway—and a level head on his shoulders. He also didn’t have anything to compensate for, which I’d always thought of as one of the reasons why he didn’t feel the need to throw his money around like it was nothing.

Every once in a while, though, something would happen that reminded me exactly where he came from. Like with this car. It definitely wasn’t a vehicle just anyone could afford.

But when he climbed out of it dressed in shorts and a faded T-shirt, with flip-flops on his feet and aviators covering his eyes, he just looked like… him. I loved the casual look, but I loved it even more for the fact that it reminded me that, no matter what nice things he could afford, he stayed true to who he was. The rest of it was just… window dressing—it was nice to look at, but it was nothing compared to what was on the inside.

A wide grin spread on his face when he saw me waiting on the porch, and he closed the distance between us in long strides that ate up the ground beneath his feet. “Good morning. You look great. It is a good morning, isn’t it? Great day for a drive.”

I laughed, enjoying the exuberance and excitement coming off him as he scooped me up in his arms and spun me around. Another peal of laughter came out of me as I clung to him, then grinned when he set me back down on my feet.

“It’s a very good morning,” I agreed, then glanced over his shoulder toward the fancy car. “I made us coffee in travel mugs for the road, but I totally understand if you don’t want drinks in that thing.”

He lifted the sunglasses to the bridge of his nose, those honey-gold eyes alight as he peered out at me from underneath them with an easy smile on his lips. “Baby, I never say no to coffee. Some people rise and shine. I caffeinate and hope for the best. You ready to go?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be.” I made to go for my overnight bag, but he beat me to it.

After slinging it over his shoulder, he looked back at me. “You get the coffee. I’ll put this in the car. Have you got any other luggage?”

I shook my head. “It’s just that, my purse, and the coffee.”

“Traveling light.” He grinned and tossed me a wink before letting his sunglasses drop over his eyes again. “I like it.”

“You mean you’re happy that my stuff will fit into that tiny car,” I teased, turning to pick up the mugs and my purse. “Does it even have a trunk?”

“Only you would make fun of a Maserati.” He smacked my butt playfully when I fell into step beside him, then slung his arm around my shoulder and pulled me into his side, dipping his head to plant a kiss on my temple. “You’re lucky I don’t think of it as an extension of myself like some guys do. I might’ve been offended.”

“Funny. I was just thinking about how you have nothing to compensate for. Guess I was right.”

He laughed and raised a shoulder as he let me go, heading toward the back of the car to load in my bag. “You’re damn right I don’t have anything to compensate for, but I’m glad you think about it. Speaking of, you know I’ve never been overly attached to my cars. Why even ask about the coffee?”

“I, uh…” I shrugged and bit the back of my lower lip, not really wanting to ruin the joyful mood by bringing up my ex. “It was just a reflex thing. A lot of people I know are sensitive about what gets consumed inside their cars, especially if that something is coffee. The scent can linger.”

He came around to open the door for me, hooking the aviators in the shallow V of his T-shirt. There was a knowing glint in his eyes as he reached for the handle, but the obvious knowledge didn’t seem to have ruined his mood.

“Was it the principal or someone else?” he asked conversationally, motioning me into the car once the door had slid up. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, but I don’t mind. Obviously, I don’t like knowing that you’ve dated other guys, but I realize that it happened. As long as you remember that I’m not them. I’m me, which means you can spill your coffee all over the damn car and I still won’t get pissed off about it. I can just get it detailed.”

Blinking a little too rapidly at his sudden, impassioned speech, I leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss against his lips, smiling as I let my mouth linger against his. “I know you’re you. It just slipped out, but yes. It was Beckett. Let’s not talk about him, though, okay?”

“Suits me like a fucking glove.” He wrapped his arm around me, holding me close and kissing me properly before finally releasing me with a low groan. “Now get in the car. If we keep that up, we’re not going anywhere today.”

I hooked him closer by the edge of his shirt, nuzzling his jaw as I spoke against his freshly shaven skin. “We have the whole weekend. Patience is a virtue.”

A strangled bark of surprised laughter came out of him when I pushed him away suddenly and slid into the low passenger seat of his car. He stood outside of it, staring at me with a wicked expression in his eyes before he shook his head and walked over to the driver’s side.

“You’re mean,” he complained lightly as he shut his door behind him, then turned to face me as he buckled himself in. A devilish grin spread on his lips, and he cocked an eyebrow. “I’ll make you pay for it later, but for now, let’s not talk about that. I need to get us there safely first.”

“That seems like the best plan,” I said but met his grin with one of my own. “We’ll see who makes who pay for what later, though. Let’s go. The beach is waiting for us.”

The sky was clear and as blue as a robin’s egg. Since it was still early and the bulk of the people who were going away for the weekend had left the day before, traffic was light and the roads open.

Tristin cranked up the music when we hit the freeway, his elbow resting on the window and his hand relaxed on the wheel. He cut an incredibly sexy figure like that, the muscles in his forearm rippling with slight movement as he navigated the way. There was a bulky silver watch with a black leather strap on his wrist, and the corner of his mouth was curved into a soft grin.

When the next song came on the radio, we both started laughing at the same time. His free hand shot out to take mine, holding it on the center console as he turned his head toward me for only a moment. I couldn’t see his eyes behind the mirrored lenses of his sunglasses, but I felt him looking at me from behind them.

“Do you remember this one?” he asked. “I think we must’ve listened to it twenty million times our junior year.”

“Oh, I remember it well.” I sang some of the words at him, laughing again when he joined in. “I think it was closer to thirty million times.”

“Didn’t you also used to play it with the marching band?” There was humor in his voice, and I saw the way his mouth twitched with the question. “You being in your polyester band uniform with that flute stuck between your lips always got me so hot.”

I put my palm to my chest, batting my eyelashes innocently as I tried to hold back a smile. “You mean you wouldn’t have preferred a cheerleader getup?”

He shook his head. “Nope, I only wanted band nerds. Green polyester for the win.”

“Well, I suppose our outfits matched your rugby jersey. I still can’t believe you played for the rugby team instead of the football team.”

“I wanted to be different.” He chuckled. “It didn’t work out very well, but that was the idea behind the decision.”

“It didn’t work out very well because you were the ‘cool guy’ everyone looked up to,” I said, putting special emphasis on the words. “They only wanted to play rugby because you played it, not because they were any good at it. That’s why the rugby team got so popular in our time. All the guys wanted to play the sport you were playing, and all the girls chased you, so they came to the games.”

“Only one girl caught me, though.” He winked at me in the rearview mirror over the top of his frames.

I filled with warmth at the memories this conversation brought back. “You didn’t make much of a secret about it either.”

“Why would I?” he asked without hesitation. “You were the most beautiful girl in the whole school, and you were mine.”

“I was yours,” I agreed easily, “but I’m pretty sure Tiffany Meadows was the most beautiful girl in the school. I’d still kill for her legs.”

Reaching out, he placed his hand on my thigh and gave it a soft squeeze. “Nah, these legs are much better. Always have been. They carry you, which make them the best.”

I swatted his hand away and laughed. “You’re dangerously smooth, Tristin Ramsey. It seems your tongue has only gotten more silver with age.”

“You love my tongue,” he said, sticking it out and wiggling it around in the air. “It’s your favorite part of me.”

“Among others,” I joked, rolling my eyes at the stabbing motions he made with said tongue before he started laughing too. “How could I not love it when you do such sexy things with it?”

“If you think that was sexy, wait until you see me trying to catch raindrops on it. That’ll get you wet for sure.”

I groaned. “That was terrible. I know you meant I’d get wet because I’d be standing in the rain with you if I wanted to see that.”

“Damn.” He snapped his fingers. “I’ll have to try harder to get you next time.”

The rest of our trip passed with the same ease between us. One of the things I’d always loved about Tristin—other than his tongue—was how he didn’t take himself too seriously when it was just us. Being with him had always been fun. We’d been best friends once upon a time, and now I remembered why.

When we came to a stop in front of a smallish house right on the shoreline, I breathed out a sigh of relief. “I’m glad you didn’t get us some huge mansion. I wasn’t sure what to expect, but this is perfect.”

“I’m happy you approve,” he said, shooting me a grin before we climbed out of the car. “It was either this one or a twenty-bedroom castle just down the road.”

It was a little more humid here than it had been at home, the sounds of seagulls squawking and the waves crashing onto the beach the only sounds interrupting the peaceful quiet. There was a flagstone pathway leading from the parking area to the front door of the house and a small front lawn on either side of it.

Tristin shouldered our bags, opened the door after inserting a code on the keypad beside it to reveal a small lockbox containing the key, and then led the way inside. My jaw dropped when we walked into the clean, open space.

“This is freaking incredible,” I breathed, taking in the magnificent hundred-and-eighty degree view of the beach and the ocean beyond it, the whitewashed wooden furnishings, and the navy blue accents everywhere.

He came to stand next to me, nodding his approval as he looked around. “The pictures did it justice. I was a little worried that the place might not look as promised, but it’s exactly right.”

I slid an arm around his waist, careful to avoid the bags, and glanced up at him, taking in the strong line of his jaw and the ridiculous length of his eyelashes from this angle. “It really is exactly right. Thank you for suggesting this weekend and for arranging this place.”

“You’re more than welcome.” He rested his head on top of mine for a brief second, humming a contented sound at the back of his throat before he stepped away. “Let’s go get some sun while the getting is good.”

“Sure,” I agreed, but I was nervous to put my swimsuit on. It had been a long time since he’d seen all my bumps and rolls in the harsh light of day, and I wasn’t sure he would like what I was packing underneath my clothes.

After he’d dropped our bags in the bedroom—which was magnificent in its simplicity and for the illusion it created of sleeping right on the beach—he disappeared into the bathroom to get changed. When he was done, he grabbed a towel and told me he’d meet me outside.

Once he was gone, I went for my bag and dug around for the two-piece I’d brought along. It showed off my curves without putting anything at risk of falling out, and the sapphire-blue color worked well with my eyes.

As soon as I stepped onto the soft sand, Tristin turned to look at me. His swimming trunks hung off his hips in a way that made my mouth water, his skin glistening with the sunscreen he’d lathered on from the bottle in his hand.

My insecurities faded the second I saw the look in his eyes. I loved seeing him looking at me like that. Like it was all he could do not to rip the swimsuit right off my body. It was very clear that he liked what he saw, which included the bumps and rolls.

Self-confidence restored, I put my hands on my hips and met his gaze full-on before turning in a slow circle. Excitement zapped through me, making my skin tingle and my insides clench.

I’d been uncertain about this weekend, but it was off to a very good start. I couldn’t wait to see what else it had in store for us.