Jake's P.O.V
"Wake up, wake up, wake up!" says a little voice as Sam jumps on my mattress.
"Ten more minutes," I groan and roll over.
"You said that ten minutes ago!" she huffs, and I smile against my pillow. "Mom said we can't open presents until everyone is awake!"
"What time is it?" I ask as I roll over onto my back and rub my eyes.
"Eight-thirty," she says.
"It's so early," I groan.
"Not for Christmas morning!" she yawns.
"It's too early for you, too."
"Is not!" she exclaims.
I laugh and roll out if bed. I cringe as I put weight on my left ankle. I am such a dumbass. My mom always told me a motorcycle was a bad idea. I can drive one, I was just pissed off. They say that driving angry is worse than driving drunk.
Who am I kidding? There are no excuses to what I did.
Maya hates me. I hate me, too. I should have come clean when I had the chance. Hell, I should have never done it. When Maya first started living with us, I thought she was bitch. She was a bitch. When I got to know her, I realized that when the bitchy shell was chipped away, she was genuinely nice person. She was damaged, and tried to hide it by being an asshole.
Just like me.
"Hello...? Jake!" Sam's voice snaps me out of my train of thought. What did she just say? Something about Christmas tree shaped pancakes? I don't know.
"Okay, let's go get some," I smile down at her as she holds my hand and marches towards the kitchen.
I pick her up and throw her onto my shoulder. She screeches and giggles. Her little fists pound on my back, not even effecting me. I act like it does.
"Ow," I complain, as if it really hurts.
She immediately stops and asks if I am okay. I laugh and set her down.
I walk into the kitchen and Maya is making pancakes with my mom. George is sitting at the counter with one of his handheld games that he never puts down.
"Can we open presents now?!" Sam whines.
Maya glances over and sees me. We make eye contact for a split second before she snaps her head back to the pancakes. She is wearing leggings and a Keith Urban concert T-shirt. I wish she wasn't wearing those leggings. Sam and my mom start talking to each other as I walk over to Maya. The pancakes are supposed to look like Christmas trees, but I try not to laugh.
"Are you still mad at me?" I mumble at her. What a fucking stupid thing to say. Of course she is. I am such a dumb ass.
She moves away from me and flips her pancakes.
"Look Maya, I am so sorry. That wasn't me. I was going back to Ryan to get him to stop toying with you," I plead my case.
"I know," she barely whispers.
"Then why are you still mad at me," I ask.
"You lied, Jake," she says as she puts the Christmas tree explosions on a plate.
I turn away and look back at Sam. They are talking so loudly the didn't even notice us.
...
We ate breakfast at the table. My mom turned on awful Christmas songs and Sam sang along. George finished his breakfast last, and Sam finished first. She wouldn't stop complaining to him saying he should eat faster.
YOU ARE READING
Bad Boy Love
Romance"I need you," he whispered from the passenger seat. Why would I trust a bad boy? But I felt, for some reason, that I needed him to. I turned to look at him, but he was already leaning in to kiss me. Why is love so complicated? Maya Reeds is a s...
