"You can let go now," he said, his low tone making awareness ripple through me. "I won't make a break for it."
I squeezed his hand. "Why don't you let go?"
"Because I'm not the one holding on hard enough to crush every metatarsal in my hand."
"Someone's studying anatomy at college," I muttered, and didn't let go.
I liked holding Kye's hand. Liked the feel of his roughened palm, his strong fingers. Liked the false courage it gave me.
Because I feared if I let go, the last of my courage would disappear and I'd be the one bolting. Back to the safety of my villa, far away from badass Aussies with blue eyes and broad shoulders and a mouth I couldn't stop staring at.
Sadly, I could count the guys I'd made out with on one hand. Maybe two. But Kye's mouth? Made a good girl like me think very bad thoughts.
"I don't go to uni," he said. "But I fractured my hand once." He grimaced. "The pain of a fractured metatarsal is a bitch."
"How'd you do it?" I figured the longer I kept him talking and walking, the better my chances were of actually going through with this.
Because I had plans for Kye tonight. Big plans. Plans that were so far removed from my boring, mundane life that I needed to make this happen before I imploded.
"Punched a hole in a guy's windscreen."
I didn't like violence. I'd seen what it did to my roommate in freshman year, when her possessive ex wouldn't take no for an answer and ended up in prison after taking his frustrations out on her once too often.
While Kye had radiated hostility back there on the terrace, I didn't sense a violent undertone. Then, what did I know? I'd targeted him because he gave off a bad boy aura.
"Dare I ask why?"
His fingers flexed around mine. "Because he called my mum a whore." He paused. "And worse."
"That's harsh."
"I heard it a lot because of where we lived and what she did for a living."
Curiosity made me want to push him for answers, but I figured he'd told me more than he would have normally and silence would probably work better.
"We lived in Kings Cross, the seediest suburb in Sydney. In an apartment over a strip club. That Mum owned and ran." He spat the words almost defiantly, as if daring me to make a disparaging comment.
"If you're waiting for me to judge you, you'll be waiting a long time."
He sneered. "Good girls like you always judge guys like me."
And that's when I finally released his hand. Only because I planted both my hands on his chest and shoved.
"Want to know the truth? I did judge you tonight. When I saw you standing in that room, nursing a soda and a snarl, I said to myself 'that's the kind of guy I want to be with tonight because his shitty mood matches mine’. I wanted you to play along with a crazy plan I had to ditch the party, so I followed you onto the terrace. And I acted all brave and mouthy, when in fact you're the last type of guy I'd usually hang out with."
I shoved him again, working up a good head of steam. "You're rude and condescending and obnoxious. And you're a judgmental dickwad." I dragged in a breath, surprised by the sting of indignant tears behind my eyelids. "So pardon me for just wanting to hang out with someone different tonight. Someone who's not from the cloying, smothering world I grew up in and moved several states away to escape."
Rant over, I let my arms fall to my sides. I shouldn't have shoved him. So much for my anti-violence stance. But a small part of me had to admit it felt good. Freaking great, in fact, to be assertive for once. Maybe the badass's bad attitude was catchy?
He stared at me, blue eyes narrowed, not moving a muscle. All that barely restrained tension should've intimidated me. It didn't. Because all that stuff Kye had just told me about his mom? Pretty much explained the surliness. He was basically a guy who was hurting. Who'd spent a lifetime hurting by the sound of it.
"You finished?" The corners of his mouth tilted, hinting at a smile.
"Asshole," I muttered, surprised by my urge to shove him again. "I'm honest with you and you're laughing at me?"
"Smiling. There's a difference." To prove it, he actually grinned, a fully-fledged, power-packed grin that left me feeling winded.
"Whatever." I shrugged and turned away, ready to admit defeat.
I'd wanted to step out of my comfort zone tonight, shake things up a little. But I wasn't ready to sign on as some guy's dumping ground. I wasn't a sadist.
I'd wanted to have fun tonight. To push my usual boundaries. To cut loose after a very long year of good grades and good wholesome fun.
Simply, I wanted to be bad.
"Stay."
I halted mid-step. Kye had spoken so softly I wondered if I'd conjured up his monosyllabic plea.