Trouble at Brayshaw High - Meagan Brandy Page 0,84

in his pocket. “I better hold it and give it to you at home since your jeans are tighter than virgin pussy.”

I start laughing and he flashes me a smile, sticking his tongue out.

“Been in many of those, Royce?”

He frowns at that. “Nah, actually. Haven’t.”

He’s quiet a minute, so I take another hit.

“How old were you when you lost your virginity, RaeRae?” he asks, and I tense.

He looks my way when I don’t answer, and he runs a hand through his hair. “Shit, I ...fuck.”

I shrug, looking out at the darkness the surrounds us. “I was twelve when it was stolen. Fifteen when I gave it away.”

He runs his hand up his arm, flipping it over to study the tatts there. He won’t look up. “Wanna talk about it, RaeRae?” he whispers and my chest warms.

Such a softy at heart, this playboy.

“Not really, he was fifteen, too. Had no clue what he was doing.” I glance his way. “Couldn’t get the job done, not like you probably could,” I joke, and his head snaps my way.

His lip tips, and it only takes a second for his shoulders to pep back up.

“Oh, I’d have rocked your world, baby.” He grips my knee shaking me.

“No doubt.” My eyes widen as my brows lift and he flips me off. “But only if I wasn’t a virgin, yeah?”

“Exactly.” He snatches the blunt from my hand and takes a hit.

“That like your one rule of thumb?” I tease. “Don’t wanna get ‘em sprung?”

He follows the ashes as they fall to the grass.

“I don’t wanna ruin it for anyone, and knowing me, RaeRae, they’d regret it later.” He licks his lips and looks back to me. “Least I can do is make sure it won’t be the one time they’re sure to never forget that they wish they could, yeah?”

My eyes soften and I tilt my head.

“That right there makes me think you’d be a solid first fuck, Royce,” I speak low.

He stares a second, trying to fight it but we both bust up laughing.

“Reason number two hundred seventy-five why I like having you around, RaeRae. You make me feel good, even when I’m feeling like a piece of shit.” He gives a soft grin. “You make me feel normal.”

“You’re not a piece of shit.”

He lifts his hands, beer in one, blunt in the other. “But I’m a bad guy.”

“No, you do stupid shit. You’re an awesome guy.”

He scoffs, his head facing forward while he looks at me out of the corner of his eye. “Would you let your daughter near me, if she was different than us?”

I wince, but thankfully it’s dark and he misses it. I swallow subtly. “Different how?”

“If she was good.”

I glower, shifting toward him. “I’d wish she could find someone like you.”

“Why?” he whispers.

“Because, you’d love her. Hard, raw, probably a little too possessively, and definitely beyond anything a normal guy could.”

“How do you know?” he rasps.

A deep crease forms on my forehead. “I just do.”

His eyes flick between mine, and finally, a small grin comes out. “So, I’m a catch, then?”

A laugh spits from me and he joins in.

I exhale and drop my head back. “You’re a catch, for sure.”

“And Maddoc?”

My lip tips up. “He’s the shark, ready to eat up all the others to stay on the tip of my tongue, like he wouldn’t be there regardless.”

Royce laughs. “You tell him yet?”

“Tell him what?”

“You love him.”

My stomach tightens and I take a sip of my beer. “Do I?” I ask, quietly.

“Damn, RaeRae. Never thought it would be one of us feelin’ it and having to shake it out the female.”

“I’ve never loved anyone, not even my mom, to be honest. Not even when I was young and dumb.”

“You mean innocent?”

I shake my head. “I was never that. I was a thief, and some would say a bully.”

I wasn’t, not really. I just didn’t let people run all over me, couldn’t if I tried. And I tried. It was so much easier to leave things alone and move along, a lot less messy and troublesome for me, but I’ve never been good at restraint.

“You were a natural born survivalist, a fighter.”

“I was a bebe ass kid nobody wanted around because I knew and saw too much or because they didn’t want to chance my mom slipping into their husband’s – sometimes wive’s – beds. She had no dignity. No hard limit. Just a sick bitch through and through.”

“Raven,” he calls, but I don’t look. “You’re nothing like her.”

At that, I

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