Real Ugly (Hard Rock Roots #1)

Chapter Eight: Turner Campbell

I spend all day on the bus smoking weed and jacking off. I have to. Otherwise, my mind gets all wrapped up on Naomi fucking Knox. I'm so zoned into her right now that I didn't even take advantage of the girls waiting outside the door last night. They were all grayscale while Naomi was in full fucking technicolor.

Oh baby, you can bet your sweet ass I'm not giving up on you, I think as I stroke my cock to her image and lean my head back against the wall behind me. Any girl that can sour hot pussy for me is worth chasing. I bring up the memory of our foreheads pressed together and the sweat rolling down between her breasts and blow my load into my hand, tossing it into the sink and washing it away before I get pissed again. Can't help it. My mood is night and day right now. One minute, I'm wanting to worship the ground she stands on, and the next, I want to destroy her.

She obviously doesn't like me, doesn't even respect me. But why? I comb my brain for that flickering punch of memory and can't find it.

"Fuck," I snarl as I kick open the bathroom door and stalk to the front of the bus. Nobody talks to me right now; they all know better. I rip the charger out of my phone and call Knox back. When she answers, her voice is groggy and far away, soft. My hard-on springs back with a vengeance, pitching a big ass tent right there for Josh to ogle. He rolls his eyes and turns away in the captain's chair, focusing his gaze out the front window.

"Hello?"

"You gonna stop hanging up on me, so we can talk?" She pauses, and I swear to Christ, I can hear gears in her head clicking as she realizes it's me on the phone. Man, she must be pretty tired if it took her this long to get that.

"What do we have to talk about?" she asks me, and I can hear blankets rustling. I wonder if she's masturbated to me yet. If she hasn't, she will. They always do. Even if this one's different? my mind asks me. I'm too distracted to pay it much attention.

"Well, you never showed up for drinks last night. I was worried about you."

"Bullshit," she says, but her voice lacks any conviction, like she's too tired to even give me that emotion.

"And you owe me an explanation."

"Oh? Do I?" Naomi says sarcastically, and my fist clenches hard at my side.

"You asked me if I sent it. Sent what?"

"Go to hell, Turner." The phone crackles, and I think she's about to drop me again, so I speak quick. She needs to know that I know she has secrets. I could tell that from the moment I met her. It's a special trick of mine. I spent my whole life around people with dirty, little deeds to hide, so I consider myself an expert.

"Listen, babe," I say to her, wanting to make this pretty fucking clear. "I know we've met before. I may not remember when or where yet, but I will. You can bet on it." I pause and listen to her breathing for a moment. "And if it's one of those little secrets you want kept, come find me before I spill it."

This time, it's my turn to hang up on her.

I clench my hand around the phone and drop it from my ear, noticing as I start to turn around that Josh is glaring at me again. Maybe he doesn't like the way I talked to Naomi. So what? He doesn't know that I'm just fucking with her. I'd never tell, no matter what it was. I may not have any secrets of my own, but I sure as shit know how to keep them. And let's be honest – most secrets are better left buried.

*****

Phoenix is hot as fuck. No wonder I've never come here before. As soon as I step off the bus, sweat starts to pool on my lower back, and my head swims in the heat. It's the middle of the night for crying out loud, and the desert is still baking the shit out of this city.