The Bad Boy's Weakness

Chapter 4: His stomach is as hard as a brick wall and it's kind of hot.

Chapter 4: His stomach is as hard as a brick wall, and it's kind of hot.

An engine revs outside the next morning. I grab my backpack and go and brush my teeth. The engine revs again, and I go outside to walk to school, and roll my eyes as I lock the house up.

"Need a ride, cupcake?"

"I'd rather crawl." I reply. Today I wear a cross necklace, a loose tank top that dips down, a beige pushup bra, and a light coral skirt. I have the shirt tucked into the skirt, and a black belt around my waist. I have a leather jacket over my shoulders, and black heels. My hair is up in a perfect bun, and I have minimal makeup on.

"Come on cupcake, it's only a ride." Drake insists.

"Did you steal my motor just to get me to ride to school with you?" I snap.

"You wish that's why." He says.

"I don't want a ride." I say. "And how did you find my house?"

"Yes you do." He says, riding alongside me as I walk.

"No, I don't. How did you find my house?"

"I know a guy, now get on the bike."

"No," I say, stubborn. I continue walking.

He wears a tight green t-shirt that is the same one as the white one yesterday, but this one isn't white, and he wears black jeans, and his leather jacket.

"Get on the damn bike, Ali!" he snaps.

"Why must you insist on harassing me?" I snarl.

"Just get on." He says. He stops moving, and I groan loudly and, being careful with my skirt, I climb on. "You have to hold onto me." he says.

"No."

"Hold onto me or you'll die."

"I'm sure you'll love that." I mutter, wrapping my arms tightly around him.

He takes off. He breaks the speed limit and weaves between cars.

"Slow down!" I keep screaming. We pass people from school, who gape at us. I bury my head in his back and tighten my grip. He's laughing, the muscles in his stomach tensing. His biceps are flexed, and they're straining through the sleeves of his leather jacket.

His stomach is as hard as a brick wall, and it's kind of hot.

He smells like cinnamon spice and the faint scent of cologne and it's...it's hot as hell and intoxicating.

"Drake! Slow the hell down!"

He doesn't slow down until he's turning into his parking spot at the school. Everyone is stopped, gaping at us.

"I'm not paying you." I get off that bike as fast as I can.

"I don't want you to pay me." he says, following me as I storm off. "You hair is fine, cupcake."

"Stop calling me that." I snap.

"That's not the way to talk to someone who just gave you a ride." He says, his voice laced with sarcasm.

"I wouldn't need a ride if you didn't steal my motor." I snap.

"I wouldn't have stolen your motor if you had just gotten me a new shirt." He says.

"I'm not getting you a new shirt!" we're in the courtyard with the rest of the school. I whip around to start yelling at him, but he's less than an inch from me.