Living With The Bad Boy

69) You're Too Soft To Be A Bad Boy

"People are staring," I whispered to Sam. They've been shooting us weird looks and glares all day but the bastard seemed to be enjoying all of this attention and moved closer to me. It's like he wants me to get murdered by his fangirls.

"Good for them," he chuckled, kissing my cheek to attract more glares towards me. For Pete's sake, we've been seen together since I've moved, and now we're actually together. It's not a big deal. Nena disagrees though. "Relax, they wouldn't dare do anything with me around."

"You don't know that," I said, slightly panicking. Relax Laur. "They could have knives in their backpacks and we'd never know."

"Why would they have knives in their backpacks?" he asked incredulously. I shot him a look and his eyes widened in realization. Yeah... it happened before, for a different reason but it happened.

"Okay, forget I asked that," he sheepishly said, scratching the back of his neck. "I'll attack anyone who troubles you." Aww, how cute.

"Your leather jacket gives people the wrong idea," I rolled my eyes. Sure, it did go well with his face and hair and everything else but if you dig very deep down, lower than the deepest hole in the earth, like way lower than that, you get the idea, he was a big softie. The looks he's been giving everyone says otherwise.

"What do you mean?" he asked in confusion. "I have a bad boy reputation to keep up, I need this jacket."

"Exactly," I said. "Sorry but you're too soft to be a bad boy."

"Excuse me?" he questioned, raising an eyebrow. "I'm a bad boy. I have muscles, a six-pack, a hot face and body, I get into fights, everyone is scared of me, and I get girls." I narrowed my eyes at him. "Sorry, I get one beautiful girl that I love." That's better. "You should get a matching one."

"Why?" I asked in suspicion. I prefer cotton hoodies over flashy jackets, just saying.

"Because you're the bad boy's girlfriend and it's absolutely necessary," he explained. "My name should be engraved on the back too. No, it should say Lauren Ryder in the back. Wow, that sounds perfect."

"You have problems," I laughed, gently bumping my hip with his. "I'd rather not wear a leather jacket everyday."

"Then at least write it on your jacket," he whined. I shook my head and shoved my backpack into my locker. "Hand?" No way. "Tattoo?"

"No," I said. That would be pretty painful.

"How about you change your Instagram and Twitter username to Lauren Ryder or Sam Ryder's," he suggested.

"Sam," I stopped him. "The world doesn't need to know that we're together. I know it, our friends no it, and anyone would be dumb to think that they could break us apart." I found it funny how he loved me even though he knew about my past. He'd seen me cry. It takes a lot to make me cry and it's usually an ugly cry.

He smiled and pressed me against the lockers, gently kissing my lips. I thought he was ready to let go of the possessiveness but a smirk appeared on his handsome face. "So about the tattoo."

"Not a chance," I grinned, patting his cheek. I followed him to his locker and a blonde appeared in the middle of nowhere and jumped on him. Ugh, not again.

"What the hell?!" Sam yelled, trying to pry the leech off in the most respectful way possible. I caught a glimpse of her face and scowled. Mandy.

Using one of my crutches, I wiggled it in the middle of the two of them and gently pushed her away. Being the dramatic person she is, she fell straight on the ground on her ass and glared at me.

Meanwhile, Sam took out his water bottle and desperately washed his cheek where there was lipstick smeared. "You bitch," she snarled, not moving from her spot. Her underwear was on full show from her short skirt and the way she was sitting. She didn't even mind. "Sammy, your mom said that I could be your girlfriend if you cheat on this nobody. I guess we're dating now."