Ugly girl

Slade kicks the door shut and strides into the room. “There is nothing going on,” I say, watching him slink across the room with the swagger of an asshole, the one I find so damn enticing.

Slade scoffs at my remarks. “Deny it all you want, but there’s definitely something going on here.” My mouth opens to protest but he glances at the TV and instantly cuts off whatever I was going to say. “No, shit. The game’s on,” he cheers, dropping down beside me and throwing his arm over the backrest of the couch as his other sneaks under the blanket to take hold of my thigh.

What the hell is this?

Damian offers him up a slice of pizza and he scrunches up his face. “Ew, no. Bro, I’ve fucking told you about those nasty toppings. No one eats pineapple on pizza.”

I grin wide in victory as Damian rolls his eyes and grumbles under his breath. “You two were made for each other.”

And…cue the awkwardness.

My eyes meet Slade’s and something softens behind their darkness, bringing on a wave of butterflies that make me want to scream. I hate that I’m falling for his charm, especially now that I don’t despise him, I’m starting to find it kind of irresistible.

This isn’t good.

Needing something to distract me from the mountain of a man beside me, I head into my room and bring out my sketch pad and pencils. I drop back down beside Slade but make sure to give myself a little more distance and as the boys watch the game in that loud, ridiculous way that boys do, I work on a portrait to remember this moment.

Don’t get me wrong here, I don’t mind a bit of basketball but after two hours, I’m more than happy when the game finally comes to an end. The boys cheer and their excitement shows in their eyes.

“Come on,” Slade says, throwing himself off the couch and grabbing my sketchpad. He tosses it aside as though I haven’t just been working hard on it for the past two hours and pulls me to my feet. “Let’s go to the courts.”

Damian gets up and starts making his way to the door, only stopping when I put up a fight. “No,” I say, loving the feeling I get every time I go against him.

Slade looks down at me. “Yes.”

“No, what am I supposed to do at the courts? I don’t play and I sure as hell don’t plan on sitting on the sidelines like your personal cheerleader.”

His brows furrow and I grin wide realizing that this is something completely new. He’s probably used to girls fawning over him, desperate to be the one sitting on the sidelines. “Well, I’m not sitting here all day watching you draw.”

“Then by all means,” I say, waving my hand toward the door. “Go ahead.”

A strange look comes over his face and he appears to be deep in thought, which couldn’t possibly be good. “Have it your way,” he says with a shrug, making Damian howl with laughter.

Confusion baffles me until he scoops up my sketch pad, grabs a couple of pencils and my eraser and then bends down until his shoulder is slamming against my hip. I’m thrown over his shoulder and I squeal out as he spins around and heads for the door.

“No,” I scream, banging my hands against his back. “Put me down.”

“Nope.”

“Fine,” I groan. “I’ll go with you losers happily if you put me down.”

Slade stops in the doorway and spanks my ass. “Promise?”

“Promise,” I say as he puts me down. He stabilizes me on my feet and I leave my hands on his chest a moment longer than necessary. “There’s just one tiny little catch.”

His eyes narrow as he steps into me. “And what’s that?”

A wide grin takes over and I feel my cheeks squishing up into my eyes. “I get to take your truck for a joyride first.”

He shakes his head. “No. No fucking way.”

I shrug a shoulder and let out a heavy sigh. “And here I was thinking that you wanted to make it up to me.”

“Fuck,” he groans as Damian laughs. “If you fucking break her…”

“What? You’ll spank me?”

“I’ll do more than fucking spank you.”

“Oh,” Damian cuts in, still laughing. “I’ll spank you if he won’t.”

Slade shoots a sharp glare at his best friend and two minutes later, I’m sitting in the driver’s seat, sliding the chair all the way forward and starting this beast up.

After quickly realizing that Slade’s Dodge RAM is way too much car for me to handle, I bring it to a stop outside the public basketball courts and laugh as Slade lets out a breath of relief. Damian digs around in the backseat and finds a ball and before I know it, we’re making our way across the park.

There are still a few people here but being 6 pm on a Saturday evening, most of the families have left to organize di

I get myself set up at the park bench that Maze and I had smoked at while listening to the familiar sounds of the boys ru

I get distracted by their movements and after watching Slade dunk the ball, inspiration hits and I start sketching.

I’m just about done my outline when voices have my head snapping up from my work. Night has fallen so all I see are shadows moving but as they get closer, I recognize Roman Westbrock’s nasty tone and instantly find myself on my feet.

There are four of them there and they’re coming at Damian and Slade as though they’re ready to cause trouble. The boys are instantly ready and for some reason, I’m not surprised.

The muscles in Slade’s arms ripple as the basketball is forgotten and rolls off toward the opposite end of the court. I race forward.

I push myself in front of Slade, not understanding why I feel so damn protective of these two morons. My presence surprises Roman and he comes to an immediate stop. “Well, if it isn’t my girl,” he smiles wide, forcing a low growl out of Slade. “You haven’t been returning my texts.”

“What the fuck are you doing?” I demand, passing over his comments as he’s lying. I haven’t gotten one text from him since that day he picked me up from school. This is all just a ploy to get under Slade’s skin and from the tension rolling off him in waves, it’s clearly working.

Roman scoffs and looks over my shoulder at his arch nemesis. “Fucked over anyone’s sister lately?”

“I sure fucking have,” he says, his voice low and terrifying making me realize that the tone he always took with me was absolutely nothing. He wasn’t even trying with me, this right here, this is the real Slade Cruz that people fear, the one who could have grown men begging for mercy. It gives me chills yet I find it so damn sexy. “I moved on from your trashy one pretty fucking quick. She wasn’t worth sticking around for.”

Rage flashes in Roman’s eyes and I watch as his hands ball into fists. “I think you should walk away,” I tell him as a warning. I’ve never seen Slade and Damian in action before, but I’m sure as hell that the four of these losers don’t stand a chance. Judging by the solid rock of a man behind me compared to the guy in front who still seems so much like a boy, Slade and Damian will have these guys in tears within three seconds.

Roman’s eyes narrow on me, seeing the warning in my eyes and clearly thinking that I’m underestimating them. He steps toward me and I move back, not out of fear but purely because I don’t want to be anywhere near him.

I press my back up against Slade’s strong chest. His hand falls to my hip and any other time, I’d say he just wanted to touch me but this is more, this is Slade preparing to tear me out of the way for when shit inevitably goes south.