Big Bad Boys A Romance Collection - Penny Wylder Page 0,135

looks sexy, like he was positioned here for a clothing ad. I take an extra second to watch him, enjoying the view.

“What are you thinking?” he asks, not moving or turning to look at me. He keeps his face straight ahead, his eyes hidden behind the sunglasses.

“Honestly, I'm wondering why we're standing here like this?”

“Because we're waiting for the bus.”

“The what?” I ask, not sure I heard him right.

Phade Manson does not take the bus. Not the Phade I know. The Phade I know is conceited, he's too hopped up on his own version of royalty that he would never set foot on a bus.

“The bus,” he says clearly. “Or are you too privileged to even know what that is?”

“I know what a bus is, jerk, but why are we waiting for one?”

“I want to show you something, I told you that.”

Looking up and down the street, I see car after car parked at the curb. One of them has to be his and he's screwing with me. “You're not serious. You're messing with me right?”

“I'm very serious,” he says, lifting his sunglasses slightly to look up the street at a bus coming our way. “Here we go, this is us.”

The bus screeches to a stop, the doors open wide, and Phade starts to get on. Grabbing his wrist, I pull hard. “Wait, you're not really getting on this, are you?”

“I am, and so are you, let's go.” Taking my hand, he pulls back, climbing the steps. Reluctantly, I climb up behind him. Letting my hand go, he takes some money from his pocket and drops it into the box. “I like sitting in the middle, what about you?”

“I. . . I don't know, I've never taken a bus before.”

Phade stops and glances at me over his shoulder. “So, I'm popping your cherry am I? It won't hurt, I promise.”

“Shut up,” I say with a giggle, slapping the back of his shoulder. “Just pick a seat.”

He laughs softly and slips into a row of seats in the center of the bus. Taking the center seat, he waves his hand for me to sit by the window. “I'll let you have the window.”

Scooting by him, I can feel his eyes on my ass. “Like the view?” I ask as I drop into my seat.

“You know I do.” Smiling, he licks his lips, lifting his glasses and giving me a wink.

“Alright, calm down, I don't want you to get yourself too excited. How about you just tell me where we're going now?”

“Nope.” Pulling the hat down over his face, he rests his head back as he relaxes into the seat. “It's a surprise.”

Huffing under my breath, I repeat his words. “A surprise, of course.” Looking out the window, the bus pulls away from the stop, and I just watch the buildings as we drive.

Phade is snoring almost instantly, his head bobbling around on his shoulders as we hit bumps and dips in the road.

Sighing to myself, I rest my chin on my hand and just look out the window. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a little excited. No one has ever wanted to surprise me with something. I'm a planner, a numbers girl, a woman who has to have everything all mapped out.

There are no surprises in my life. . . Until recently.

The buildings start to thin out, becoming further and further apart. The new bricks are being replaced by broke down, windowless buildings. Most are covered in graffiti, tagged with images and symbols.

Garbage fills the ditches on the side of the road, stray cats climb around dumpsters, and there are cars missing wheels or rusted out, decorating vacant parking lots and side streets.

The glimmer of excitement I'm feeling begins to disappear as the bus slows down outside an abandoned factory. Looking around, it starts to sink in that the few people left are immersed in their phones or chatting with the person at their side. No one is getting up, and no one else is getting on.

Phade yawns, fixing his hat and slipping his glasses into the collar of his shirt. Glancing out the window, he starts to stand, but I grab his shirt and pull on it.

We're not getting off here? Are we?

No. This can't be right.

“What are you doing?” I ask nervously.

“This is our stop.”

“Here? You're bringing me here?”

Nodding, he takes my hand in his and braids our fingers together. “It's fine, I promise.”

“I don't know, this—”

Cutting me off, he squeezes my hand hard. “Trust me,