Hellion, a New Adult Romance Novel (The Rebel Series) by Elle Casey

not quite.
    “Yeah, games .   You know, where you pretend to be after me, you play around, maybe you get me and then you blow me off for the next conquest.   Let’s not go there, okay?   I have one more year of school left and I have to work my ass off to do it right, and I don’t have time to get my heart messed with or broken, especially by the brother of my best friend’s boyfriend.”
    He stands there frowning at me for the longest time.   When I’ve finally had enough, I hit him with my purse.
    “Ow, what was that for?”   He rubs his shoulder, but doesn’t move.
    “For fucking with my head.   Now, take me home.”   I head back to the car as cool as I can, doing everything possible to walk straight and not look like a dirty hooker.   A couple cars slow down before continuing on, so I’m not sure I’m doing a very good job of it.
    Mick comes up next to me and walks with me, but says nothing.
    My heart is burning in my chest.   I’m not sure whether I should be proud of myself for putting it all out there like that or pissed that I acted like such an ass.   I really want to call Teagan right now and ask her to psychoanalyze me over the phone so I can at least figure out which way is up.   Being around Mick drops my IQ at least fifty points.
    I’ve stunned him into silence, and I want to think that’s a good thing, but there’s no denying how crappy it makes me feel.   Why am I so against just having a good time with him and damning the consequences?   When did I suddenly become the kind of girl who cares whether a guy sticks around or not?   I must be seriously PMSing.   It’s probably one of those really bad menstruation cycles where I could have a psychotic break and go stab a neighbor with a garden hoe or something and wake up not remembering anything the next day.   Maybe I should sleep handcuffed to the bed.
    “What are you thinking right now?” Mick asks.   I can feel his gaze on my face, even though I’m staring straight ahead.
    I keep walking without looking over at him.   “You don’t want to know, trust me.”
    “I do, actually. Tell me.”
    “I’m thinking I need to handcuff myself to the bed tonight.”
    “Uhhh … okay.   I guess I could arrange that.”
    I try to whack him again, but he grabs my hand and won’t let it go.
    “I wasn’t talking about with you, dipshit,” I say, trying not to smile.
    “Oh.   With who then?”
    “Myself.”
    “Now that’s just kinky.”
    “Would you stop?”   I turn to face him, still battling to keep the smile off my face.   “Seriously.   I know you’re a master player and I’m just not in the mood for it.   I don’t have the strength to fight you off.”
    He steps closer, keeping our clasped hands between us. “So don’t fight me off, then.”
    I can feel his breath on my face.   He’s had some alcohol to drink, but he’s not drunk. And now, looking into his eyes and feeling the heat coming from his body, I’m sure; he’s definitely making a move.   The question is, what move is he making?
    I lose my smile.   “Mick, you need to understand something about me.”
    “Okay, so tell me.   I’m listening.” He moves just a fraction of an inch closer, and it makes me go hot all over in an instant.
    Sweat breaks out between my shoulder blades.   Is it humid out here or is it just me?   “I am not in a good place right now.   Normally I’d be all over this … whatever it is … but right now … I can’t.   My best friend is wondering what the hell is going to happen with the rest of her life, I have to figure out a way to become self-sufficient soon so that someday in the probably not-too-distant future I can have Jersey move in with me, and I have to graduate and get a real fucking job.   That leaves me exactly zero minutes in my day to get my heart broken.   Do you get what I’m saying?”   I want to cry right now.   This totally sucks. I’m so lame.
    “We all have shit that needs to get