Page 30 of Rowdy Boy


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I come hard and fast, groaning as I cover myself in cum.

Fuck.

This fucking girl … is going to be the death of me.

Monica

When I’m home, my mom’s right there on the couch watching her favorite show. “Hey, how was the concert?” she asks.

I swallow. “Yeah. Cool.”

“Cool?” she repeats, turning her head to me.

“It was fine,” I say, shrugging it off. I don’t want to give her the complete rundown because she’ll vilify me for it. “I’m going to my room.”

“Okay. I’ll be here if you need me,” she says, and I wave it off and swiftly leave.

I don’t want to lie to her, but I don’t want to worry her either.

I mean … nothing really worrisome happened … nothing extraordinary.

Unless you count a dirty kiss.

Oh man, just thinking about it still makes my heart beat faster. I don’t understand why Cole has this effect on me, but he does. Every time I get close to him, something flutters in my stomach, and I feel so heavy and unable to breathe. I never felt that way before, not with any guy.

And when he pressed his lips onto mine, I swear it felt like heaven and hell all wrapped in a tiny package of sin.

If I hadn’t stopped him right there, who knows how much further he would’ve taken it.

How much further I would’ve driven myself into madness.

This guy would destroy me … if he had the chance.

Maybe not intentionally, but likely. This is not a guy you give into. Not willingly, anyway. And I almost did.

I sigh to myself as I close the door to my room and rest against it.

I can’t let myself go like that ever again. Even if it was … amazing beyond words.

He probably didn’t mean a single second of that kiss. I was probably just another one of his prized collections. Something to win over and conquer. Something to boast about to your friends.

Everything about him screams trouble and those kisses? He probably gives them to fifteen different girls per week.

I shake my head and slap my forehead. “Stupid.”

I shouldn’t have accepted his offer to come to the concert.

I lie down on the bed and bury my head in my pillow, screaming into it just for the sake of it. Boys. Sometimes, I really hate how I’m so fucking attracted to them.

Especially the ones who people told me to stay away from. And still, I didn’t listen.

I grab my phone and call my cousin.

“Hi!” Her upbeat voice makes me pull my phone away from my ear.

“Hey,” I mutter.

“Mo? Is that you? You sound … wasted,” she scoffs. “Did you have too much to drink?”

“No, but I did have a terrible time,” I reply, snorting.

“What happened?” she asks, but before I can say a word, she’s already talking again, “No, wait, don’t tell me you went to that concert where TRIGGER is playing?”

I feel caught cheating. “Well … I dunno, I couldn’t not go, I mean—”

“But I thought you didn’t like concerts?” she interrupts.

“Well, I do, or … I did … before …” I choke on my own words. “I just went because he invited me.”

“Who did?” She sounds curious as hell. “Don’t tell me you’ve already got a boyfriend?”

“What? Boyfriend, no!” My cheeks turn red. “Of course not. You warned me about him, and you were right.”

Suddenly, she goes silent, and I wonder if I still have a connection or if the line is broken.

“Ariane?” I mumble. “You still there.”

“Yeah, yeah …” she mutters. “Who invited you again?”

“Cole,” I say. “I thought he was finally gonna be nice. I think the rumors about him are true.”

“Rumors? What rumors?” she asks with a heated voice.

“That he was a cheater,” I say.

“Yeah, totally,” she says. “He cheats on every girl he dates.” But every word she utters is snappy as if she’s in a hurry. “I can’t believe he invited you. And that you went there, oh my God.”

I’m a bit flabbergasted she’d question me. “Well, I’m sorry. I just thought—”

“I’m sorry, I have to go, Mom’s bothering me, but I’ll see you at school, okay?” she says.

The phone beeps against my ear, and I pull it away to stare at it for a second, completely dumbfounded that she hung up on me.

What the hell?

Cole

I’m rudely pulled from my daydreams about Monica by a call by none other than fucking Ariane. I contemplate pushing the red button, but for some reason, I don’t. Maybe it’s because I’ve already been enough of a dick to the people around me, or maybe I’m bolstered by my encounter with Monica, enough to make me want to give Ariane a piece of my mind.

So I pick up the phone and bark, “What do you want?”

“Listen, you asshole, stay away from her.”

I frown. What the fuck happened here? “Really? That’s why you’re calling me? To threaten me?” I laugh. “You’ve got some nerve.”

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