Page 7 of The Player
My arm faltered, then fell to my side. There wouldn’t be a need for knives tonight, not on the guy who was standing right in front of me, anyway.
Will Stokes.
A member of Brinton Manor’s notorious vigilante soldiers and best friend to my sister’s boyfriend, Colton. He was known as The Player, but from my experience, his game needed a little work.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, skulking around my car in the middle of the night?” I cussed, closing my blade, and shoving it aggressively back into my pocket.
Will gave me an ironic smirk, his brows knitting together as he glanced at the watch on his wrist and shot back, “It’s eight o’clock, Bee. That’s hardly the middle of the night. Andskulking? You make it sound like its Victorian Britain and I’m Jack the bloody Ripper.”
“If the cap fits,” I retorted.
But he just frowned back at me. Then, looking a little more contrite, he lifted his chin and asked, “What’s got you so spooked, anyway? It’s not like you to be jumpy.”
“I’m not jumpy,” I argued, folding my arms defensively over my chest. “I just didn’t expect to find some guy hiding under a hoody lurking next to my car like a creeper.”
I didn’t like him thinking I was anything other than cool, calm, and collected. Not that I was doing a very good job of showing that right now. I needed to get my shit together, and fast. But being around Will Stokes always did this to me. He unnerved what I thought was my impenetrable forcefield against bullshit, and boy, did he bring it sometimes.
I hadn’t forgotten one of the first times I’d met him at a Halloween party, when he’d dropped me into a filthy duck pond to impress everyone just because I was dressed as the Little Mermaid, and he was Mitch from Baywatch.
It wasn’t funny.
And I was still salty.
But I’d made him suffer for it ever since.
That’s who Will Stokes was, the guy who tried to make everyone laugh, but not everyone did. The subtle art of humour was a work in progress for him, and don’t get me started on his role-playing skills.
“It’s cold tonight,” he said, rubbing the tops of his arms for effect and grinning at me. “That’s why I had my hood up. And lurking like a creeper? That’s a bit harsh. My methods of flirting might be unconventional, but it comes from a place of love… not…creeping.” He shuddered as I rolled my eyes at him, then he winked and gave me that cocky half-smile that always made my stomach flip, even though I hated him for it.
“You know, I checked my receipt, Will. I’m pretty sure I didn’t buy any of your bullshit,” I snapped, giving a self-satisfied, smug grin.
“You love my bullshit. Besides, who would you bounce off if you didn’t have me? I bring purpose to your day.”
“You bring something,” I shot back, tapping my foot impatiently, waiting for him to get to the point. “You know, I’ll never forget how we first met… but… I’ll keep trying.” I cocked my head, and he started to laugh.
“See?” He pointed between us. “There’s nothing better than a truly inspired insult, don’t you agree? It’s a rare thing of beauty. That someone has gone to so much trouble to think of an expressive way to insult you.”
“I do agree,” I replied. “I love it. And you’re the easiest to insult because the opportunities are endless.”
“Anyway,” he carried on, ignoring my sarcasm and smiling like a fool, rocking on his heels. “I thought you’d be pleased to see me.”
“I’m ecstatic. What do you want?” I replied plainly, folding my arms and staring absent-mindedly into the distance, like him being here didn’t affect me.
It did.
“I wanted to make sure you got home safely.”
My exaggerated lack of focus changed instantly, and I glared back at him. The boyish grin he was giving me was aggravating but made my insides squirm at the same time. Will Stokes was a conundrum that confused me to the point where I didn’t know if I wanted to pull my own hair out or pull him closer so I could kiss him. He was so fucking infuriating.
I really needed to get away from here for my own sanity.
“And besides, this isn’t the best neighbourhood,” he went on, gesturing around him.
He had the cheek of the devil with the face of a rugged angel. He was the worst kind of boy to be stuck in a dark street with when I felt both horny and utterly frustrated. Yes, that’s right, horny. Don’t ask me why, but every time I had him in front of me, I couldn’t help but wonder what it’d be like to fuck him. But then I’d imagine I’d have to strangle him afterwards because the cockiness he’d exude would be overwhelming. He’d turn me into a black widow spider, and I wouldn’t be angry about it. He’d probably deserve it.
“I live here,” I shot back, challenging his assassination of my town even though I sort of agreed with him. But he came from Brinton Manor. He was in no position to judge. We were a shithole, but they were a huge, gaping crater that led straight to hell. “And this is my car,” I went on. “I think I can take it from here. I appreciate the sentiment though. Thanks for stopping by.”
“You can never be too careful, Bee,” he replied, placing his hand on his heart like he actually believed that I was grateful for him being here.
