Maggie Norris and Luke Vaudest come with attitudes of stone-cold, rude, sarcastic snakes. Every single time the pair have clashed, it has never ended up being a good thing. The two are more than fine with never crossing paths, again.
Until Maggie d...
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"When people are protecting something truly special to them, they truly can become ... as strong as they can be." — Masashi Kishimoto
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Chapter 23 <—————————————>
Maggie
I blew out a long stream of smoke above my head, relaxing my head against the side of the building. "Thanks." I handed it back to Vance.
"No problem," he responded around the smoke. He followed up, stepping beside me, and leaning against the mansion.
I glanced over him for the umpteenth time tonight. He was cute, I'd give him that. Brown hair with too much gel, a pretty nice body and a pair of dark blue eyes. He was super flirtatious too, so I figured he understood the impact of his looks.
After Luke ditched me, I was thrown into a tangle. Dance after dance, I never knew when the shit would end. Most of my partners were old men who were hinting that if I sucked them off in one of the bathroom stalls, they'd pay my rent for the rest of the year. The rest were just snobby rich boys who couldn't take a joke to save their lives. Soft asses.
Vance was cool, though. At my joke about the stiffness of his dancing, he had laughed, and we talked for a while. We both relished in our desire to be anywhere else, but here and eventually, it led to Vance flagging me a cigarette container. I didn't even smoke regularly , but after tonight, it might become a habit.
Vance glanced to me, cocking a brow. "Didn't you tell me that you stay in Washington?"
I nodded. "Mhm. Been there for a while."
He nodded, his lips going to the cigarette. "I live there, too. Boring as shit if you ask me." He offered the lit stick to me, again.
I chuckled, taking the cigarette from him. "What stole the appeal for you?"
"The same food, the same hang-outs, the same people," he listed off. "The same boring women." His expression mirrored a dull one as he recounted his encounters.
I eyed him warily at that. Over my years, I'd learned many useless things but not this one:
Man who randomly bring up, and trash women were usually bitches. They flipped the script the moment the woman rejected them, usually insulting her despite being full of compliments before the rejection. More often than not, they were usually upset, and still bitching about it.
Vance didn't seem like a bitch, but then again, I hadn't even known him for an hour. I couldn't put it past him.
I guessed I showed my distaste in my expression. Vance back-tracked, flashing a sly grin at me. "But, not you, of course," he corrected. "You're not like other girls."
