Take Me On

Chapter 26

West

“Why are we sitting here?” Haley slams her lunch tray on the table and sinks into the chair across from me. Still pissed at our show of hand-holding during science, she stabs her fork into the chicken patty. I chuckle. I don’t need much of an imagination to guess what part of my anatomy she’d like to stick that fork into.

“Consider it a continuation of my science experiment.” I chose a solo table in the back for the two of us under the half-broken florescent light. It could be romantic, if I did romantic and we were an actual couple.

“By baiting the tiger? Really, West? Why don’t you pull out fresh meat, smack Matt on the nose a few times, then open the door to his cage? It’s like you want to cause problems.”

“Are we having our first fight as a couple?”

Her mouth twitches. “Yes.”

“Do you still have feelings for him?” I hold my breath while she answers, but try to act like I don’t care. Which I shouldn’t. We’re only faking a relationship.

“No,” she answers immediately. “Matt and I have history. I was young and stupid and now we have history. History that will never, ever be repeated.”

Satisfied, I settle into my seat. “Then why do you care if I bait him?”

“Because I like you enough that it would suck if you died.”

“I can take Matt.”

No response from Haley and I push down the urge to rattle her. What do I have to do to prove I’m capable?

I shove a forkful of corn into my mouth. Haley plays with hers and I can tell her mind is a million miles away. This morning, Jessica easily dismissed her and what has also been a shock is the way guys walk by her without noticing her existence. Haley’s gorgeous with all that sandy-brown hair and dark eyes that promise long nights full of kisses and laughter.

Maybe that’s what happens if you go to school with someone since birth and you only recognize them by their label. How many girls have I wrongfully overlooked at my old school?

Haley’s eyes meet mine. She slowly glances over her shoulder, then back at me. “What?”

“What what?”

She kicks my shin underneath the table and I laugh as I shake off the sting. “You’re hot and I like looking.”

Haley turns an adorable shade of red and she traces a make-believe line in her corn. Thinking of how Rachel hates to be embarrassed, I offer Haley an out. “What type of tournament am I facing? Knife throwing? Quilt making? Dueling pistols at sunrise?”

“Mixed martial arts.”

I scratch my chin. Now I understand why Haley didn’t want to discuss this in front of anyone else. If I had been thinking straight, I would have forced her to eat lunch at a separate table days ago, but my head’s been jacked up as I contemplated my own problem: the forecasted temperature plummet tonight.

I had hoped for boxing, but I had doubts it would be that easy. Not that boxing is easy, but MMA is a whole other animal. It’s the best of the best. The ultimate badass contest. It’s not just discovering who is the better man in boxing, but who’s the better man in boxing, jujitsu, Muay Thai, grappling and whatever the hell else combat fighting thrown in for good measure.

“Cage and all?” I ask.

“Cage and all,” she echoes. After a second, she peers at me from under those long dark eyelashes. Does she curl them or do they naturally have that sexy wave? “You don’t have to do this. You could transfer to another school.”

“How?” I snap. “My dad threw me out. I doubt he’d sign the transfer papers.”

Haley’s face falls and she drops her fork onto her plate. “That was awful of me to say—”

“Stop. I didn’t mean it that way.” I didn’t mean to upset her.

“If being stuck at this school is the reason why you’re taking this on, then I’ll figure out another way to fix this. Give me the weekend, I’ll think of something—”

“Haley, I’m in this and it’s not because I’m stuck at Eastwick.”

She opens her mouth to protest, but I cut her off. “I’m in this.”

“You never listen to reason, do you?”

“I listen to any reasoning that makes sense and yours doesn’t.”

“Impossible,” she mutters. After several beats she continues, “My grandfather owns a small gym in the industrial park. He’s given me permission to train you there. I get off at eight tonight, so I thought we could meet up at nine.”

Wow. Lots of things going on in that statement. I fork my own patty, then cut it up into pieces. “Where do you work?”

“I’m a waitress at Romeo’s Pizza. Sorry. I should have asked about your work schedule.”

“It’s all right. I didn’t have one until Tuesday.” Benefit of being a trust fund baby—work was optional. Funny, I thought of college, but I had never thought of supporting myself.

“Oh.” She lowers her gaze. Regret heats my neck. I bet every guy she knows has had a job since they were sixteen. In her eyes, that makes me the unemployed loser who lives in his mom’s basement and bums rides off friends. Worse, she’s aware I don’t have a basement to live in. And here I thought Dad was the only one I unimpressed.

“My hours are after school and flexible.” At least that’s what Denny said. “How do you get around?” That’s called changing the subject.

“City bus.” Haley’s voice becomes muffled as she talks into her cup before she drinks.

City bus. Something clicks and I edge my tray away. I’ve got half a tank left in my car and the remaining cash I have, I need for food. I get paid next week, but I won’t be breaking bank. Now Haley’s supposed to be training me and I don’t have money for the gym or the equipment. My fist clenches and this overwhelming urge to hit something—someone, anything—rages through my veins.

A hand folds over mine and my eyes jerk to Haley’s.

“You okay?” she asks.

“Yeah.” I suck in a breath. “No. I’m fucked.”

“Are you running out of places to stay?”

I nod, unable to admit I lied to her earlier in the week about where I’ve been sleeping.

“There are shelters.” Her voice cracks. “But they’re downtown. The bus routes to there are a little...dangerous. If you drove, your car would be jacked in minutes.”

I figured. “How are they? The shelters?” Hell. She’s never told me she’s stayed in them. I’m tipping information from Jessica.

We stare at each other for seconds, longer. Her face is blank, but her eyes are moving. She’s thinking. Haley is always thinking and, like I did before, I offer the out. “If you let me pick you up, then we could reach the gym by eight-thirty.”

It’d be worth the last bit of gas I have to end a conversation I never should have started.

She memorizes her plate as she eats and contemplates my last statement. Who knows—maybe she’s still pondering the shelters. I’ve noticed this about Haley over the past couple of days—someone asks her a question and instead of immediately answering, she mulls it over. Possibly two minutes pass and I have a hunch she’s an overanalyzer.

“It’s a car ride, Haley. Not an invitation to stay over after we have sex.”

She chokes on her chicken patty and downs her water. “We are not having sex.”

“We could,” I say, then grin at her.

She coughs into her hand and I laugh. I laugh harder when her foot connects with my leg.

“What do you say?” I lean back and rest my arm on the back of the chair next to me. “Eight-thirty or nine?”

She sighs as if this is a huge concession. “Eight-thirty.”

“You don’t like it, do you?”

“What?”

“Accepting help.”

The fork impales the chicken again. “You honestly make it impossible to like you.”

The bell rings and I catch Haley’s tray before she has a chance to lift it. “But you do.”

A tiny smile forms and she quickly hides it.

“And after today’s conversation you’ll also be thinking about the two of us in bed.”

She straightens. “That is not going to happen.”

“The daydreaming?”

“Yes!”

“Then you’re good on the actual sex?”

A fire ignites in her eyes. “I could drop-kick you now.”

I bite back any response because the truth is, even with me being heavier in muscle and several inches taller than her, the aftermath of Conner says she could. On occasion, even I know when to stop, but damn, teasing her is fun.

Haley pauses beside me as I dump the trash and deposit the tray. In classic pissed-off girl stance, she folds her arms over her chest and pouts that beautiful bottom lip.

I should tell her I’m sorry and that I’m a jerk. That’s what boyfriends do, but I’ve never been boyfriend material and Haley and I aren’t actually dating. I give into the temptation and rub her silky hair between my thumb and forefinger.

She stares up at me with those hypnotic eyes. There’s an attraction she can try to deny, but it won’t make the tension crackling between us any less true. I would easily renounce my trust fund to fist my hand in her hair and kiss those perfect lips. God, this girl turns me on.

Knowing there are teachers and principals and students waiting for me to screw it up and kiss her in public, I flick her hair over her shoulder and run my hand down her arm. “That’s all right. You don’t have to think about it, but I’ll dream about it for the both of us.”