Bad Boys Go To Hell

ONE

I was sitting in a small coffee shop with Luck. It was quite cosy- creamy walls, decorated with multiple photographs of tea and coffee. The waiters and waitresses were rushing around the room, tending to the customers, dressed in black with white aprons tied around their waists.

"Do you think it's a good idea?" The boy finished his coffee and rested his empty cup on the wooden table.

"Of course, but Camille won't let me, I have to wait another three weeks" I sighed.

"Listen, tattoos are permanent. What if they make a mistake and accidentally tattoo a huge penis on you?"

I giggled, sticking my tongue out. We've known each other for ages. He is like the brother I've never had.

A foot taller, with green eyes and messy blond hair that sticks out in every direction possible, making him look even more sexy. He was also a year older, and girls were drawn to him like moths to a flame.

Still, there was nothing going on between us, and there never will be. I was 5 and he was 6 when we first met. We didn't like each other at first, like all boys and girls in pre school, but our relations changed when he protected me from a six year old asshole.

From then on, we spent every single moment together, until I, at the age of 12, moved to a boarding school. We still kept in touch with each other regardless, and visited each other during summer holidays. A couple of days ago I moved back to Los Angeles.

"But tattoos are sexy and I'm not getting it done on my forehead" I joked.

"You think you're going to lure someone in with your tattoo?" He batted his eyelashes provocatively.

"Not everyone is as gorgeous as you are."

We bursted out laughing, and a moment later my phone started ringing, signalizing a call from my mom.

"Olivia! Where are you?" Moms worried voice came through the speaker.

"I'm at a coffee shop with Luck, did something happen?" I answered.

"No honey, but you forgot that Dave is supposed to be here for dinner in an hour!"

"Okay, okay! I'm coming." I quipped and ended the call.

I slipped my phone in my back pocket, glancing at the clock hanging above the little bar. It was 5:53pm, and mom was planning on having the stupid dinner at 7.

"I have to go, Luck. My mom is preparing for this dinner as the president was visiting." I rolled my eyes, hearing Luck's quiet giggle.

"That would be great, Olivia Octavia Jones as the first daughter." He laughed.

"Piss off, Luck. I don't even know who that Dave guy is. His last name sounds familiar though." I shrugged.

"What is it?" He asked, curiosity evident in his voice.

"Um, Carter. Dave Carter." I explained, from the facial expression Luck held I could tell he was hiding something. "Do you know him?" I asked, demanding an answer, but the boy stayed quiet as if someone cut out his tongue. "Luck what's going on, please tell me he's not some gangster, or worse, a bank employee."

"A bank employee? Do you have something against bankers?" He smiled, successfully changing the topic.

"They're really bitchy, please fill out these boxes... write your last name here... and in a moment I'm going to stab you with my pen." I mimicked a serious tone of one of the bank workers, making quotation marks with two of my fingers.

"Oli, you're insane." He grinned widely.

"And you love me for it." I said with a wide smile on my lips, standing up.

I gave him a peck on the cheek and left the building. Picking up a fast pace, I walked towards my house because I still had to get changed.

I wasn't in the mood for this pointless dinner, but it was important to my mom, so I was doing it for her. Suddenly, someone bumped into me, cursing loudly.

I scoffed, wanting to carry on walking, but a strong grip on my wrist wouldn't let me. Someone tugged on my arm, turning my whole body around.

It was a boy, not that much older than me, taller than me by nearly a foot, with brown hair falling over his forehead, and gorgeous blue eyes.

"Not even a 'sorry'?" He barked, clearly irritated.

"No." I tried to free myself from his grip, and when I succeeded, the boy scanned me from my red converse and jean shorts and all the way up to my white hoodie, his eyes finally resting on my face.

"You can always apologize in a different way." He smirked arrogantly, not even trying to hide the fact that he was staring at my cleavage.

"Asshole." I muttered, wanting to walk away, because I was already late, but I froze.

This unknown boy slapped my ass. I couldn't let this go unnoticed. I turned around, swinging my fist back and then straight at his face. My knuckles started burning like hell, but it was worth it. He staggered back and I fled towards my house.

___________

This is a bit cringy at first but trust me it's a great book. It wasn't originally written by me though, I'm just translating it. To find the original author go to my first AN.