Trouble: A BWWM Bad-Boy Billionaire Romance (9 page)

I
logged
onto Facebook and zoomed in on the page that I always ended up on: Laila’s Facebook profile. I clicked to her photos, and I felt like a massive creep. I wouldn’t let myself see her, though. I knew that I had absolutely violated a line, and on Thanksgiving I had lost both my best friend and my girlfriend in one shot.

Laila had texted me and messaged me, asking me to meet up and talk, but I ignored her.

I logged onto Facebook and zoomed in on the page that I always ended up on: Laila’s Facebook profile. I clicked to her photos, and I felt like a massive creep. I wouldn’t let myself see her, though. I knew that I had absolutely violated a line, and on Thanksgiving I had lost both my best friend and my girlfriend in one shot.

Laila had texted me and messaged me, asking me to meet up and talk, but I ignored her. This was my penance for being a complete ass and fucking my best friend's younger sister.

I looked through her photos, and this time I looked all the way back to years ago, when we were still in high school.

I clicked on a picture of the pool party that Chris and I had thrown at his house before the start of senior year.

There was a candid picture that Laila had been tagged in, but Chris and I hadn't. I hadn't seen it before. It was totally new.

I looked at it. She was wearing a simple black Speedo one-piece with a racerback. Even though she wasn't showing any skin, she was sexy as fuck, with every bit of her curvy body on display and tantalizingly draped in fabric.

I was staring at her, like I always do. Chris was in the corner, staring at me staring at her.

A light clicked. This is why he made me promise to keep away from her. He knew that the two of us were going to the same college, and he wanted to make sure I didn't jump on her.

He knew all along.

My phone buzzed. I saw Chris' picture come up on my phone. It was a picture of us standing on top of a car, our fists in the air.

I accepted the call. "Hey."

"Hey, man. I'm outside of your dorm. Can we talk?"

He must have driven, because I didn't hear the roar of his motorcycle. "Yeah. I'll come down."

I came out on the street. "Go ahead and come up." He didn't look like he was in the mood to pound my face some more.

I pulled out two Heinekens from my fridge. One of my roommates was 21, and we didn't even need fakes. Yeah, it was underage drinking, but we'd been drinking since we were in elementary and sneaking alcohol from our parents' liquor cabinets.

"Don't make a shiv out of that, okay?"

Chris laughed. "I'm not here to fight with you man. You won the last one, anyway." He took a pull of his beer. "I have to talk to you about Laila."

"Man, you are fucked up. I saw this picture," I pointed to my laptop, where the picture was still on the screen. "You knew all along that I wanted her."

"I did."

"Tell me why I shouldn't be beating your ass right now."

He sighed and scrubbed his face with one hand. "Did you know that Laila was premature?"

"Oh, really?"

"Yeah, like 5 weeks premature. She didn't have toenails when she was born."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah, and she had some breathing problems. They kept her in the NICU for a long time, longer than 5 weeks. They kept telling my parents, ‘Oh, Laila can go home as soon as she doesn't have an event for 48 hours.’ An event is when the baby stops breathing. And they kept telling them that Laila could go home tomorrow, even if she'd just had a breathing event. She was really sick as a newborn."

"Yeah, that sounds rough."

"I was a little over one, you know? And all I saw was that my parents were really, really worried all the time. I remember it, even though you aren't supposed to when you are that young."

He sighed. "My parents were really intense about Laila when she was very young. Did you know that parents of babies in the NICU often have post-traumatic stress disorder, like soldiers in a war?"

I blinked. "Really?"

"Yeah. So I learned that when I was older, and it made me realize that my parents had PTSD, and it was especially bad when Laila was young." He drank more beer. "I remember this one time. I was three. Laila was two. We went to the playground. Normally, Mom watched Laila like a hawk, but one of Mom's friends was there. They were talking, and Laila and I went around the play structure so that we weren't in her line of sight. She didn't follow us like she normally did. It was a pretty small playground, so I guess she didn't think there was much to fear. So there were steps up to the top of the slide, and there was a line. I went up, and Laila was right behind me. But this boy wanted to get up the stairs a half second after he came down the slide because it was so much fun. So he pushed his way through the line. Laila fell off the steps. It was like four inches, so she was just a little scraped." Chris drank some more. "She cried like a fucking banshee, man. My mom ran over and was there as fast as she could move, and she saw Laila on the ground. The skin was barely broken, but her knee was bleeding. And you know, when I was two, I fell a lot. My mom was there with some Bactine and a band-aid, but she made me stand on my feet again once I was bandaged up.”

"How are your knuckles?"

"Good thing your ugly mug didn't break them." We smiled at each other.

“Anyways, with Laila, it was different, very different. Shakespeare said hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, but seriously, never, ever face down the wrath of a mama bear. She grounded me for the first time in my life, and I got spanked. I learned that day that it was my job to make sure that Laila never got hurt. My parents chilled out when we got older, but I don't know...I've always held onto that idea."

I turned to him, and I held his eyes. "I'm not Brayden Roberts."

He sighed. "I know, man. It's just instinct, you know? But I talked to my dad and mom about it, and they want you guys to date."

"So we're cool?"

"Yeah. Go ahead and date Laila. But don't hurt her, or I will come for you."

"Can you text her? She's probably really confused about what's going on. I didn't want to dig the hole deeper. It's not like I wanted to lose my best friend, so I haven't been talking to her."

Chris pulled out his phone, and he typed in a text.

Go ahead and date Trouble.

He showed it to me, and I nodded. He hit send. 

"I'm gonna go." 

"Should you drive?"

He snorted. "What do you think I am, a lightweight? I've had half a beer. I can drive."

"Okay. I'll see you in a week, then."

"Yeah, man." He hit me on the back. "I'll see you. Guess you're going to be at our house all the time now instead of almost all the time."

I walked him out, and I watched as he drove off. When he couldn't see me anymore, I did a fist pump and whooped.

I ran across the street, dodging an oncoming SUV as its brakes squealed. I waited at her outside door until someone walked in, and I followed them in, just like I had been doing every time.

G
o ahead and date Trouble
.

I looked at Chris' text on my phone. We hadn't talked since Thanksgiving. Dad wanted us to make up, but I was still furious that he'd shut down my relationship. Trouble wasn't talking to me, so there wasn't even any relationship for Chris to give his blessing to.

I tossed my phone on my bed. I should just swear off of boys. My grades were better than ever, because I didn't spend my nights banging his brains out.

I sighed. It was fun while it lasted. I wished that it had lasted forever, but I guessed that good things didn't last. Not for me, anyway.

Andrea and I were studying for our upcoming calculus test. Well, I was studying. She was 'studying' with her boyfriend on her bed. Whenever they read an old test question, they'd make out. I was 50% of the way through all of the old tests, and she and David were 2% of the way through. As long as they didn't actually have sex in front of me, I guessed that I could stay in my own room.

I heard a knock on my door. I opened it without looking through the peephole.

It was Trouble.

"What are you doing here?"

He pushed his way into my room, but he stopped when he saw Andrea and David kissing on her bed. 

Andrea broke the kiss and looked at our visitor. "Get out. This room is mine."

I
looked at Laila
. "What do you want to do?"

She looked at the amorous couple. Andrea put her leg over David. They were practically fucking right then and there.

She put a notebook, her computer, and a textbook in her bag.

"I'm coming out. See ya," she tossed over her shoulder at the two of them.

"Laila, we have to talk."

"That's funny," she sniped, "I've been trying to talk to you for weeks. Then, I get a text from my brother. And now you're at my door. Tell me why I should let you talk to me."

"I was wrong. I'm sorry." She stopped walking away from me and turned around. "I really want to date you and make it work."

"You mean that?" Her voice trembled. "I don't want to get back together with you if you are going to go radio silent again. I don't like it."

"I promise, I'll never ignore you like that again. Ever again."

She got a devilish gleam in her eye. "Let's go to your place."

That was as good of an answer as I could hope for. If she hadn't been carrying a heavy backpack, I would have thrown her over my shoulder and run across the street.

We got into my room, completely bypassing my roommates in the living room. I closed my door.

She already had her top off, and she was unbuttoning her jeans. I took off my clothes, and I beat her to it. I helped her take off her bra. I kissed her breasts.

"It's been too long. I'm not going to last," I warned her. "I'll make it up to you."

"I want it, too." She pushed me back on the bed, and she put her hands on my shoulders. "You're not getting away from me this time." She took me inside of her warm body, and we both moaned at the flare of sensation. There was barely any foreplay, but we didn't need it. She was dripping wet all over my cock.

"We need protection." I rolled her on her back, and I grabbed a condom and put it on.

"I would've been fine without it."

"Are you joking? If I got you pregnant, your dad and Chris would come after me with the shotguns they have upstairs."

She laughed. "Nah." She pushed me back on my back, and I gazed up at her perfect, gorgeous face. I licked one flawless breast, and she shuddered on top of me. She swung her hips in a delicious rhythm, and my eyes were tightly shut as I poured myself inside of her. I could feel her pussy fluttering around me, and I knew that she was coming, too. I took off the condom and put on another one for another round.

The second time was sweeter. I was sitting up, and she had her luscious legs wrapped around me. I pushed up into her wet sheath, and her head fell back. I peppered her throat with sweet kisses. I felt fire surge in my body, and I knew that I was close. I rubbed her clit so that she would catch up. She surpassed me, shuddering, panting, writhing in my arms as she climaxed again. She milked me, and I spilled myself inside of her body.

"I'll love you forever."

"That's just pillow talk."

"No, it's real." I couldn't propose yet, but I knew that I was going to. "I will love you for the rest of my life."

She kissed me. "I love you, too."

I
was sitting
with my dad, waiting for the rest of us to arrive. We never spent time together.

"You're a college grad now."

I cleared my throat. "Yeah, Dad, I am." Our conversation faltered.

“You were born when I was too young, you know. Your mother and I," he cleared his throat. "We had you when we were 22.”

“Twenty-two!” I yelped. "I had no idea how old you were."

"I was just too young to handle a baby and a dead wife at the same time. I had my trust, of course, so I had enough money to take care of you. But all the money in the world couldn't save your mother. I threw myself into my business, although I hated the idea of making money. What use did it have if I couldn't use it to save the woman I loved? But I'm proud of the way that you turned out, and I have Sean King to thank for that. I wasn't around much when you were younger, but that's something that I'm hoping to fix now."

He held his hand out to me. "Let's start fresh, okay?"

I looked at his hand for a moment, then I extended my hand to him. "Okay."

"You mean it?"

"Yeah."

I saw Chris, their parents, Laila, and Laila’s best friend Nora walk into the restaurant.

A waiter came to our table to take our orders. Laila and Nora, both weekday vegans, got summer vegetable ravioli in marinara sauce. The rest of us got zuppa de pesche and linguini with white clam sauce to share.

When we were done with dinner, Mr. and Mrs. King hit their glasses.

"We're so proud of you three graduates." Mrs. King beamed at all of us. "We bought you Dr. Seuss books."

"Mom, I'm not 5 anymore." Chris shook his head.

"It's
Oh, the Places You'll Go
."

"Mom, could you be any more cliché?" Laila laughed. "I love that book, though."

She handed them to us in little silver gift bags. I opened mine.

"I like it, Mrs. King. Thank you." I made a mental note to send a physical thank you to her house later, maybe a bouquet of daisies or something.

Now that dinner was over, I had something to do.

I got down on one knee. Laila’s hands went over her mouth.

I brought out a blue Tiffany’s box.

“Laila King, you are the woman for me. I have been in love with you forever. Would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

Tears spilled down her cheeks.