Crushed (Torn #7)(11)



One guy in particular caught my attention. Well, I supposed it was hard not to since he kept smashing against my fun-inspired, sprinkled donut.

The delicious treat in question had light brown hair with au natural, sun-streaked highlights; an outrageous display of chiseled chest; a passable smile; and a seemingly good-natured personality from where I was studying him. He was throwing a football in the pool; hence, the constant donut bumping. Not bad if I had to admit.

He isn’t up to Brody’s hotness factor level, but he’s good enough, I thought as my eyes zeroed in on him, gazing up at my inflatable thrown.

“Are you planning to come out of your seat, little Miss Princess?” he finally asked after his mild attempts in trying to engage me.

He was cheesy to say the least. Not all men were born equals; that was for damn sure.

“Who’re you calling little, huh?” I raised my brow at him, not particularly wanting to intimidate yet wanting to gauge his tolerance for bitchiness because, well, I couldn’t stand wimps. “If you’re trying to flirt with me, you need to do a better job, ‘cause you suck big f*uking time, Mister Whatever.”

“My name’s Rob, Miss Potty Mouth Sunshine.” He gave an amused laugh, making him seem friendlier and less of a target to my rather sour attitude.

I couldn’t help smiling. The man was as cheesy and corny as they went, but he still kept trying. Besides, the guy had sarcastic wit, and I had to give him props for that at least.

Looking around, he made a frown, appearing puzzled. “I don’t see you with any friends around… Are you new, or have they all abandoned you?”

Still peering down at him, I didn’t thaw just yet at his rather forward behavior. “Why? What’s it to you?”

“I’m trying to see if I should do the same, if they did decide to leave you, that is. And if you’re new … Well, I can potentially be your first friend.” He was teasing with an infectious grin, and I couldn’t help feeling at ease with him. There was always something special about a guy who could win a woman’s smile. It was one thing to make someone’s heart palpitate at the sight of you, but winning them through smiles and laughter? There was always room for that, as well.

“That’s too generous of you. Are you sure you want to make such a big sacrifice?” Copying his mocking manner, I bottomed out my drink before I daringly sucked out the lime and had my tongue push it back in the bottle, knowing all too well he was taking in everything I did.

“I think I just might.” He cleared his throat before pinning me down with his eager, determined, hazel eyes that left me wondering what he thought of me. “So, which one are you? New around here or your friends left you hanging all by yourself?”

Since he was someone I didn’t truly know, lying wouldn’t hurt, would it? “You’re right; I’m kind of the new chick around town. I’m originally from the east coast, but I had to get away from parents and all that. You get my drift.”

The side of his lip lifted for a cute smirk before resorting back to his flagrantly flirty self. “Cool, cool. I can dig that.”

Just when he and I had started to truly converse, a man dressed in an all-out Hawaiian outfit hollered at him, getting his immediate attention. “Yo, man, you in?” he bellowed with both of his hands cupping his mouth before he nodded in Rob’s direction.

He gave me a thoughtful look before directing his gaze towards his friend. “I’ll skip. You guys go on ahead. I’m chill.” He saluted them, watching them from afar as they exited the pool area then strolled around the garden to God knew where.

Prying into anyone’s business wasn’t really my thing, unless of course it entailed anything Brody. Then that would be a different story, but apart from him, other people’s business didn’t interest me. Somehow, though, I felt inclined to press him about what his friend wanted from him.

“What are you skipping out on?”

He made a sly smile, carefree. “Guy stuff.”

If there was a typical guy move, this was it—acting all secretive and shit—and I had to admit, I was a sucker for it.

“Care to elaborate on that?”

“They were asking if I wanted to hit.”

My ears instantly perked up. “Hit what? Like a joint?”

He paused, weighing me on how trustworthy I’d be. “Uh … sort of.”

Since we were on the subject, I wasn’t one to let go of it easily. I needed to know more about their shenanigans.

“Sort of like what?”

His smile, though it still remained, wasn’t the same as before. There was a serious tone about him.

“It’s similar to that, but a little harder.”

Most every guy I knew had a medical marijuana card, so weed was practically abundant around here. But tougher stuff? Not around my friends. We were, after all, in high school, so we were limited on what we could score.

“Can I see how they do it?” I was thinking of all sorts of things it could be. It wasn’t necessarily because it was forbidden or frowned upon, but because of curiosity and an odd fascination of substances that altered the mind. When people smoked weed, I would sometimes look at them as if they were a specimen I was studying, transfixed at their erratic behavior or random choices while under the influence.

He didn’t seem fazed by my random question. It was as if he had heard it asked all day long. “You sure it’s cool with you?”

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