Page 32 of Betraying Bexley

"N-No. I-I'll p-puke." Heat filled her cheeks. She was never good in nervous situations. Eating at that particular moment, knowing what was coming next was a sure-fire way for her to vomit. She hated confrontation for as long as she could remember. She blamed it on her father and the way he treated her.

“Well, at least you’re honest about it.” Jacolbi laughed.

“Don’t worry, Bex. We’re not in this to lose,” Bronx said, giving Bex a side hug. “You’ll see. They’ll wish they hadn’t picked a fight with us.”

The confidence radiating off of all of them, settled her marginally. She wanted to believe them, but all of her doubts and questions overruled her ability to think straight. “O-Okay.”

Alé pulled into the parking deck and parked next to the expensive cars belonging to the All-Americans. Beside her, Jacolbi whistled. He stared at the red sports car as he pulled off his shirt. Bex gasped. She covered her eyes, which garnered a few chuckles. Why did they pull off their shirts? What was the point? She looked to Bronx who was too busy checking out Jacolbi to pay attention to her.

“Hey.” Alé stepped in front of her. “Can I ask a favor of you?” He stared down at her with soft brown eyes. Why’d he have to stare at her as though she were the only one he saw?

Heat filled her cheeks and she grew awkward standing there. “S-Sure?”

Alé grinned. His features transformed from a brooding rebel to a handsome protector like she read in some of those manga books the high school kept in the library. He tipped her chin up before running his tongue over his bottom lip.

Her breath hitched.

Her heart pounded.

“I need a kiss for luck.” Alé brushed his lips over hers before she could protest.

A zip of electricity crackled across her flesh and she swayed toward him. His palms encased her face as he took his time. Something settled low inside of her and an excited nervousness replaced the fear and shock. When he pulled back, he placed his shirt in her hands. His body, dang. He had an athletic build more barrel than a swimmer's body. His tattoos crisscrossed his chest and arms. Though gang tattoos were mingling with others, she pushed it aside, angry with herself for judging him when she first met him. "W-Wow."

He chuckled. "Now, I'm ready. Don't drop my shirt. I'll be needing it back." He pressed his lips to hers again, lingering there for a moment longer. When he turned away, starting for the waiting group, it was almost as if his body puffed up even more.

“Right.” She stumbled against the car; grateful it was there to catch her.

“I want one,” Jacolbi whined.

“Pay attention.” Alé turned Jacolbi’s head toward where Matthew, Kenner, and Dawson waited.

“Why do you always get the girls?” Jacolbi shook out his arms as he waited on Kenner, Matthew, and Dawson.

“I’ll give you one, sweetheart.” Alex made a kissy face at Jacolbi.

“Fuck off.” Jacolbi chuckled then gave Alex a quick peek on the lips. “You’re such an asshole sometimes.”

Alex laughed. “Shabi.”

“Here, you should sit.” Eito lifted her as though she weighed nothing, placing her on the trunk of Alé’s car. “Hey, Alé go for the red car while you’re at it.”

Alé cocked his head to the side. “Why?”

“Reparations. A small payment for all the shit Bex has been through.” Eito leaned against the car. “Maybe losing something precious to them will knock some sense into them.”

"Nah, meatheads have no sense, to begin with," Jacolbi said. "I should know."

Speaking of which, Bex couldn't help but notice how different each of the guys appeared. Of all three of them, Alé was the biggest, height, and weight. He was muscular, but not overly so. He reminded her of a young Vin Diesel in the firstFast and Furiousmovie. Which meant Jacolbi had the whole Paul Walker vibe going for him, including the buzz cut. However, he had tattoos like Alé. Alex was rangy and tan. He might have been slender, but there was a quiet strength to him. He was deceptive that way.

“Eye candy, right?” Bronx nudged her.

She squeezed the shirt in her hand, and she caught a whiff of Alé’s cologne. “Y-Yeah.” Her answer came out too breathy and too husky for her liking.

Eito chuckled. “Should I remove my shirt for you too?”

Bex’s gaze darted to him. “W-What?”

Eito pulled his uniform shirt from his pants and she caught a glimpse of tattoos. “I’m taking off my shirt too.” He unbuttoned it with a flick of his wrist, surprising Bex with his speed.

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