The Bad Boy's Blend
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- Parts 2
Ongoing13m
Last published Thu, Jun 4, 2015
Aria didn't have a particularly interesting life. She had average grades, an average job, and an average life. Besides studying for the SATs coming up in the spring and working at a seaside coffee shop everyday before and after school, she really had nothing to worry about. Her life was mild and smooth- just like the coffee she served.
But then a pebble was tossed and made a ripple in her otherwise peaceful life. She named this ripple after Logan Carmichael.
Having been friends up until puberty when he abruptly cut her out of his life, Aria was determined to do the same to him as he did to her. Maybe then he'd feel the pain she'd felt.
Despite her obliviousness, Logan had no intention of letting her slip through his fingers like coffee grounds. Thus, the Bad Boy's Blend is born, a specifically brewed cup of coffee for Logan Carmichael himself, the catch being when he gets one taste, he keeps coming back for more.
WARNING : Upon entering the realm of The Bad Boy's Blend, you'll be exposed to cliché stereotypes and romanticized love to the extreme.
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She didn't reply and I felt her finger move across my skin, lower, and almost all the way down my lower back. A shiver coursed through my body, strangely pleasant, and I felt her finger stop. "Your tattoos are beautiful," she said softly. Too close. She was too close. My pulse was hammering and I could feel her cool breath against my skin when she spoke, and my body was warm from having felt her. I couldn't reply. My breathing was light and shaken. I wanted to just turn around and pull her against me, or rather put her against a wall, so I could kiss her and feel her more properly against me. If she touched me again, I wasn't sure that I could keep myself from doing just that. "I'm going to take a shower," I said suddenly in an attempt to escape. She didn't stop me, so I took that opportunity to walk away. When I reached the bathroom, I took a deep breath to steady myself as well as my pulse. Closing the door behind me, I ran a hand through my hair. She truly was a nightmare. A bad boy's worst nightmare was a girl that made him want to be a good one.
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