An ill mouthed girl with a fiery temper and bad attitude comes across a blonde headed stranger in her bed whilst covered in something strange. His friends are just like brothers and family soon becomes a tight nation to them all as Sloan grows close...
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Slash
The fucking bike was gone.
"It was right here-" She mumbled, letting go of me as she wandered over toward the other isles, checking repeatedly for the bike.
"Motherfucker." I grumbled. The BMX I'd owned since I was roughly fourteen was just fucking gone. Poof. Disappeared. I clenched my jaw, holding tightly to the bottle of Jack Daniels, walking irritatedly toward another isle, slightly hoping to catch a glimpse of the fucking thief. It was such a shitty bike. That was the issue... It wasn't something you'd expect someone to fucking steal.
It didn't mean all that much to me anymore, anyway, but it was more or less the fact that we'd left it unsupervised for roughly two minutes. "Fucking hell." I breathed, running a hand through my curls. Today had been fucking perfect. I'd managed to take the girl I'd somehow fallen in love with on a fucking date - finally - and here goes some asshole, taking away my only form of transport. That wasn't even the worst part. We didn't know where the fuck we were. It was gonna end up like that night I walked her home, all drunken and messily stumbling along, singing songs we'd forgotten the lyrics to.
"What're we gonna do?" She asked, sounding a little disheartened as she pouted out her bottom lip and sauntered over, dragging her feet tiredly. I sighed, sluggishly wrapping my arms around her neck as she tilted her head back to stare into my eyes dreamily. "Shit, man, your eyes are so pretty." She gushed, not a trace of humor upon her face. I smiled, feeling my cheeks slightly heat up as I nestled my head into the crook of her neck, drooping a soft kiss upon the faded hickey.
"Why don't we just buy the Jack and find somewhere to get fucked?" I mumbled, withdrawing and detangling my body from hers, raising my eyebrows in question as she shrugged and nodded in response, beginning to wander down the isle the newly-non-existent bike was left within. The thought made me sigh - again - and run a hand through my curls, frowning as I did so, before I trailed on after Sloan.
Reaching the checkout till, I noticed that both cashiers were young and pretty fucking hot chic's. Sliding the bottle over, I gazed over the blondes exposed cleavage and how she brushed away her hair, smacking the bubblegum between her teeth loudly.
"Eight pounds, ninety-five pence." But, god, did the accent ruin it all. I nodded silently, handing over a ten-pound-note my dad had gifted me, feeling her clammy fingers touch mine as she bit her lip in an awkward way. I coughed, scratching the back of my neck as she readied the change; could she make my payment any more uncomfortable?
As she reached out to hand me the coins, however, it seemed that she could make things just that bit more tense. "You got a name, big boy?" I shrunk slightly at the calling and shook my head, feeling myself go completely red. Why was I blushing so easily? I couldn't decipher weather or not it was the fact that she had such a manly voice or how she seemed so aggressive.
"We call him Big Boy Bruce, back in America." Sloan responded, smirking with her arms crossed over her chest. I glared heatedly in her direction, but as we locked eye contact, I couldn't help the subtle smile crawling onto my lips. The fucking nerve...
"Oh?" The girl grinned. But it wasn't a boner raising kinda smirk, it was a creepy one that would lead me to believe I'd wake up to her attempting to ride me or some shit. "Well, Big Boy Bruce, you got any digits for me?"
I shook my head furiously. "I have a girlfriend." I attempted to reason.
"No, he doesn't." Sloan denied.
"McCain, shut the fuck up." I chuckled, shoving her shoulder and picking up my purchased item. "Look, man, I'on't really wanna.... fuckyou." I said, smiling apologetically in the employee's direction. "And I do have a damned girl." I rolled my eyes. "She's just a bit of an asshole." Sloan rammed her elbow into my ribs, but it was gentle enough not to inflict pain, so I wrapped my arm around her shoulder and lightly pinched the underarm on the opposing side. "Have a good day, Ma'am." I smiled, dragging Sloan away from the scene.
What a catastrophe.
I'd never enter a Waitrose again.
*
"Talk to me." I said, taking a short swig of the whisky. When I'd first started drinking it, I recall the burning sensation it made as it ran down my throat and the tingling it left on my lips. "What's your biggest fear?"
She snatched the bottle from my grasp and pondered the question for a moment, gulping down the beverage as she did so. We'd found our way over to an unfamiliar park and decided to kick it there for a while. "Dying." She said, almost too quiet for me to hear. "I'm not too sure why - it is inevitable - but I just don't wanna die young."
I shrugged in response, I wasn't all that fussed about dying. I mean, hell, the way I'm headed with the smack, shit was gonna end real fast. "There's no point in fearing death." I said. "It's gonna happen anyway, like you said, and if you spend your whole life worrying when it's gonna happen, you'll never experience the life before death."
She nodded. "Huh," she began, "I never thought of it like that." And then she took another swig of the drink and handed back over the bottle, allowing me to indulge in it for a while. "I guess I've always been like it. Death is something that crushes people, and I just don't wanna leave the people I love."
"I get that." I said.
"So what about you, tough guy? What you scared of?"
I shrugged, there wasn't much that struck fear in my mind. I adored to watch horror films or do something creepy, animals were just too fucking cool to be even remotely scary and I wasn't phased about dying. "Nothin'." I responded, nonchalantly, with the bottle lip to muzzle my words.
"There's gotta be something." She smiled. It sent a short pang through my lungs as the creases in the corners of her beautiful eyes deepened and her dimple popped out. And then I downed a little more of the drink because maybe there was something I was terrified of. I was fucking petrified to lose this piece of shit, trash talkin', dirty minded motherfucker that I'd put a ring on someday.
"Nah." I denied. I couldn't ask her to marry me - despite how much I'd love to - and it'd be too sudden. Not for me, but maybe her. I was always a pretty emotionally needy person and without Sloan I guess I'd just be catching herpes left, right and damned center. So I was glad I had her by my side, mine to kiss whenever the fuck I felt like it, and I didn't wanna ruin it. Rushing things that badly would only end up in an awkward disposal of a fucking amazing relationship that wasn't actually a relationship. Shit. I hadn't even popped the damned question yet.
"Remember when I said I'd always wanted to kiss a rockstar?" She smirked. I nodded eagerly, slowly producing a cocky grin onto my lips. "Well, you're a rockstar now, right?"
"Newly emerging." I shrugged, settling the bottle upon the grass.
"Still counts." She shrugged, copying my actions with a more innocent smile.
