Bittersweet (Redemption #3) - Jessica Prince Page 0,11

she was gone.

With the exception of a shiny black Mercedes G-Class obnoxiously parked in a handicap spot close to the entrance, the student lot was all but empty as I burst out of the school and started to run down the sidewalk that led toward the side lot, where I’d been forced to park at the very back earlier that morning.

The sun beat down on the asphalt, making it feel like I’d just climbed into an oven as I stepped onto the blacktop and jogged for my car while fishing around in my backpack for my keys.

“Come on,” I grumbled, digging through all the junk. “Where the hell are you?”

I was running late, something that was out of the ordinary for me, but then I’d felt off kilter all day . . . or more specifically, ever since lunch.

I hadn’t meant to lose track of time, but when I sat down in the library to start researching for the project Mr. Caswell had assigned in English lit that day, my mind kept drifting, and I found it hard to concentrate on anything but that arrogant smile and those stormy eyes. Now, if I didn’t hustle, I’d be late clocking in for my shift.

“Aha!” I cried when my fingers wrapped around the cool metal of my keys. Whipping them out, I lifted my arm and pointed the fob at the car, only to jerk to a dead stop at the sight of the guy leaning languidly against my driver side door.

“Surprise, sunshine.”

He grinned, and my knees nearly gave out. Oh, we really like that grin a lusty voice in my head spoke—a voice that sounded an awful lot like Rina. I slapped a metaphorical hand over her mouth and pasted a mask of indifference on my face. “What are you doing here? How did you know this was my car?”

“Deductive reasoning.” He pulled a blunt from his pocket and lit it up, letting out a plume of smoke as he continued, “Had to stick around for detention and saw you through the windows in the library. Should’ve known you were the nerdy bookworm type.”

I didn’t understand how I could be so physically attracted to someone so despicable.

Crossing my arms, I looked back over my shoulder to the Mercedes again. “And I should have known that G Wagon was yours,” I huffed. “It screamed spoiled asshole as soon as I spotted it. You do realize you’re parked in a handicap spot, right?”

He shrugged, forming his lips to blow out a smoke ring. “I was running late this morning. Parked there so I wouldn’t miss my first class.”

This was a guy who parked in a handicap spot because it was convenient for him, not giving a single damn that someone might actually need it. He expected people like my aunt to clean up after him, he got high on school property, and he picked a fight just for the hell of it without having to face the consequences most everyone else would. Hell, he probably skated by in school without having to do a single assignment because his parents bought him an A in every class.

Feeling that same indignation rising inside of me that had been there during our first encounter, I stomped over to him, snatched the blunt from between his lips, and dropped it to the ground, grinding it to shreds beneath my shoe. “You’re still on school property. How about you at least act like you give a damn about rules the rest of us have to follow?”

That cocky smirk was in full effect as he stuffed his hands in the pockets of his jeans. And damn it if I didn’t have to force my eyes to keep from drifting lower. “Ah, so you’re a book nerd and a prude. Got it.”

I wasn’t going to bother defending myself to someone like him. It would’ve been pointless. But I couldn’t deny that being called a prude for the second time in one day left a bitter taste in my mouth. “You mind moving away from my car? As much fun as this little exchange has been, I have somewhere to be.”

“Yeah? Where’s that?”

“None of your business. Now please move.”

I’d expected more of a fight, figuring he’d go out of his way to annoy me more. I didn’t understand it, but it was almost as if he got off on pushing my buttons. This time, he surprised the hell out of me by taking a step to the side, unblocking the door.

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