So Maybe I Want A Bad Boy!

Harley

"What do you mean, it's too late? Harls, we spoke over an hour ago!" Rebecca's voice rang through the phone, sharp with disbelief.

I shrugged, not that she could see me. "What can I say? I act fast."

"Don't say that!" she snapped. "I told you—that was something I heard from a source. Why would you act on hearsay?"

I stayed silent, because, well…she had a point.

"And why are you even offended? That was your old résumé. You don't even use it anymore."

"That's not the point, and you know it," I said, my voice tight. This time, she was the one who fell silent.

Sensing an opportunity to shift the conversation, I cleared my throat. "Anyway, shouldn't you be sleeping?"

"Not when I have Mr. Clad Storm as my client. No, no—you don't get to sleep." She let out a dramatic sigh before getting back to business. "You said it backfired. What happened?"

Ah. Right. My problem. My money.

Damn.

"I…uh, well, I might've let my emotions get the better of me and played a little harmless trick on Clad…" I trailed off, suddenly regretting everything.

Rebecca's tone sharpened. "What trick?"

"Don't wanna talk about it."

"Nope. You will talk about it. You acted based on the info I gave you, so start singing."

I grimaced, shifting my phone away from my ear like it would protect me from the inevitable judgment. "I…may have trapped him at the airport by reporting him as a bitter ex stalking me."

A beat of silence.

Then—

"YOU DID WHAT?"

I winced. "Yeah, told you, I don't wanna talk about it."

Rebecca groaned. "Okay, and now what's the problem? You got your revenge—though it was stupid—so what's wrong now?"

I let out a hollow laugh. "Well…Clad has my purse. With all my cards and money."

A pause. Then, dryly: "Then use your phone."

I stilled. "You know I don't trust those things."

She let out the longest, most exasperated sigh. "God, Harls."

"Good. Now, since I won't be getting my purse back anytime soon, could you please book me a hotel? Preferably one nearby, just in case I have to walk."

"Why don't you just go home?" she asked.

"Can't. My parents booked a hotel for our stay this morning—apparently, they were 'preparing the house'—and since I got demoted to Clad's escort, I would have been staying there with him." I said.The absolute worst part of this whole thing wasn't that I didn't think I'd run into him, naked or anything like that—it was a me problem. I still couldn't shake the pull he had on me. I didn't trust myself. I was scared I'd do something crazy while Clad wasn't exactly there, sharing the same thoughts as me.

Rebecca groaned again, but a minute later, she returned. "Alright, fine. I booked you at WR International."

"Oh, great! How far is it?"

"Let me check." A pause. Then, very distinct, very colorful cursing.

My heart sank. "What?"

"Uhh…it's about 10 km from the airport. You'll need a cab." Her voice was laced with an apology she knew wouldn't be enough.

"Rebecca!"

"Sorry! I picked one close to your house and one that would take you in right now!"

I groaned, rubbing my temples. "Damn it. Where am I supposed to get twenty pounds for a cab?"

Silence.

I knew that silence. It was the heavy, guilt-ridden, I-messed-up-but-I-won't-say-it kind.

Sighing, I glanced toward the last place I'd seen Clad—except, surprise, surprise—he was gone.

"Damn it," I muttered.

"What?"

"Clad's gone. He should've at least had the decency to leave behind what doesn't belong to him!" I groaned, tugging at my hair in frustration.

Just then, something flickered in my peripheral vision.

Notes.

My heart raced. The scent of that cologne. Fruity and smoky with notes of pineapple and a bit musky.

Clad?

I turned quickly—only to be met with a stranger.

Confused, I frowned.

"Uh…sorry," the guy said, looking sheepish. "We met earlier when you had…a little problem, I'm Daniel." His voice was vaguely familiar.

I squinted at him. Who the hell—

Then it clicked.

Him.

Oh my God.

The guy who saw me at my absolute worst.

My cheeks burned with embarrassment.

"Oh, right," I mumbled, barely meeting his gaze. "Hi. I…uh, didn't catch your name earlier." Lord, why couldn't this day just end?

He smiled lightly. "No worries. You were a little…in a hurry, can I say that?"

I blushed harder. "Yeah, you can say that."

"Are you okay now?" he asked.

"Yes. I mean—no. As you can see, I'm a problem magnet today."

He shook his head. "Don't say that about yourself. Everyone has bad days."

"Yeah? Try 365 of them a year."

He laughed—lightly, effortlessly.

Wait… was I getting along with a stranger?

It was then that I noticed his features properly. Blonde hair, green eyes—typical, yet he had a charm of his own.

And then, before my brain could stop me, I blurted—

"Your eyelashes are blonde ?"

His laughter halted. He blinked. "Ah…yeah. You're the first to notice."

I frowned. "Are they normal?"

He chuckled. "Yes. But they are rare."

"They're beautiful," I said before I could think better of it. My face exploded in heat. "I mean—sorry if I intruded."

"Not at all." He smirked. "If intrusions were always done by pretty ladies like you, I doubt anyone would mind."

I froze.

Pretty? Has he seen me?

I was crusty. I had zero makeup. My hair was in a messy bun, and I was drowning in a * heavy jacket over yesterday's clubbing outfit. Pretty? Ha! He needed to work on his pick-up lines.

Then, as if reading my mind, he added, "That was a bit corny, huh?"

I laughed. "No, not at all." Lies. It was absolutely corny.

"You don't have to lie to spare my feelings. I know it was." His smile widened.

And I froze again.

Why was my heart skipping over a smile?

Stop it, heart. You're embarrassing me.

"Anyway," he said, switching gears, "you need cash?"

I sighed. "Sort of."

He pulled out some bills. "Here. Will this be enough?"

I hesitated. "It's just for a cab."

"Are you always this reluctant to accept help?"

"Are you always this eager to give money to strangers?" I shot back.

He grinned. "You're not a stranger. We shared a plane."

"That doesn't change the fact that I am a stranger."

"For now."

I blinked. "What do you mean?"

He didn't answer. Instead, he took my hand and placed the money in it, smirking. Not a smile. A smirk.

As he turned to leave, I panicked. "Wait! How will I pay you back?"

"Just write me an IOU. I'll be back to collect it—with interest."

"What?! We're never gonna meet again!" I didn't want to die owing anybody! I hated debts.

He stopped but didn't look back.

"Never say never. See you soon."

And just like that, he was gone.

Stunned, I stared at my phone.

"Did you hear that?" I asked Rebecca.

Her smirk practically dripped through the line. "Every. Single. Word."