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Damon:A Bad Boy MC Romance Novel(94)

By:Meg Jackson


No matter how much we talked about dreading going back, I know that  Becky and Alicia shared the same warm feeling I did when we started  seeing the landscape that told us we were close to home. It had been a  wild week, and we were tired of travelling, wanted to sleep in our own  beds, hug our parents, see our friends.

That didn't mean it was easy to hug Becky and Alicia goodbye when they  dropped me off in front of my house. That trip really had changed us;  but it brought us even closer together than we'd been before. Even  though we'd probably see each other every day all summer, and then all  the time while we were in school, having them around constantly had  become normal to me, and I missed them the moment they pulled away.

That feeling was fleeting though, as I ran up the steps to hug my mother  and father. It was the longest I'd ever been away from them, and I felt  like we'd been away forever. They wanted to hear everything, see  pictures, the whole thing: I told everything that I could tell without  getting in trouble over dinner that night, and went to sleep happy and  full of memories and happiness.

The next morning, though, I felt like I was hungover from the whole  trip. I felt lazy, and listless, a little heartbroken. Mom and Dad tried  to get me up and out, to go to a movie or a jog around the track, but  really all I wanted to do was lie in bed, stare at the ceiling, and  think. Let everything settle.

Think about how I was suddenly a different person: a sexual person, with  a lifetime ahead of me of adventure and experiments. Think about how  much I missed the smell of Boon on my skin. Think about how he'd  vanished, without a word, in the hotel. Think about everything and  nothing all at once.

I missed him. I didn't miss him. I missed him more than I could say, I  didn't care if he died in a train wreck tomorrow. He was good news, he  was bad news. He was the one, he was just another guy. He was special,  he was lucky. He was bad news, he was good news. Over and over, my brain  and heart flipped the coin, sometimes landing on love, sometimes  landing on lust.

It was a fun time, you learned something about yourself, you don't need  him anymore, you know what you want. Someday, you will forget him.

He was special, you felt something deeper than just lust, he had those  eyes that made you want to open up. You will never forget him, always  want him.

I was up all night that night, pacing my room, watching Netflix, trying  to fall asleep. I wished I had some pot, which, I'd learned, was a great  sleep-aide. I hated myself for wishing that, because I knew it was  wrong, and that Mom and Dad didn't raise me to be this way. They didn't  raise a stoner, for one, and they certainly didn't raise a little  sex-kitten who would get all bent over shape over a big dick attached to  deep, blue eyes. Deep, deep, deep blue eyes …

When I woke up the next day, I was almost surprised because I couldn't  remember falling asleep in the first place. I groaned, my head pounding  from lack of sleep and a night of too-much-thinking.

"Samantha? You up yet?" I heard my mother call from downstairs. Rolling  over, I looked at the clock. It was nearly noon. And yet I felt like I  hadn't slept at all.         

     



 

"Yeah, Mom, I'll be down in a minute," I yelled back, then rolled over  again. I couldn't live like this. I wanted to just go back to sleep,  lose my mind in dreams, not worry about anything ever again. But, I knew  that I had to get up, be myself, be happy, move on. This is not a  rehearsal, I thought to myself, another one of Becky's  bumper-sticker-mottos.

I took a deep breath and jumped out of bed, then quickly did some  jumping-jacks and ran in place for about a minute. I figured the best  way to shake off my doldrums was to literally shake them off, and in a  few minutes I was feeling (pretty much) good-as-new.

I bounced down the stairs, knowing that breakfast was long over and that I'd have to prepare something for myself.

"Well, there she is, our little sleepyhead," Dad said when I almost ran into him rounding the corner to the kitchen.

"Hi, Dad!" I said, pushing past him, food the only thing on my mind. I'd  barely eaten anything the day before, too wrapped up in my thoughts,  and was starving. I immediately pulled the peanut butter out of the  cupboard and grabbed two slices of bread from the fridge. PB&J was  my go-to snack.

"Don't fill up, now, we're grilling this afternoon!" Dad said from the  hall as he watched me spread the peanut butter over the bread. Perfect, I  thought, a day relaxing by the pool and eating hamburgers with my  parents. Exactly what I need!

"Don't worry, I can eat four meals in four hours. You know that," I  said, taking a huge bite out of my sandwich. Dad laughed. My insatiable  appetite was a running joke in our family: I was always so involved in  cheerleading and sports that I could eat way more than my relatively  small frame showed. I was always hungry.

"This is true, my dear," Dad said, shaking his head as he watched me  finish the sandwich in five huge bites. "Man, I don't know where you put  it all."

"Well, talking burns a lot of calories," I said playfully. That was the  other running joke in my family: my 5-miles-per-hour mouth.

"Okay, well, I'm going to fire up the grill in an hour or so. Do you  want to invite Becky and Alicia over, or have you had enough girl time  for one summer?" I thought about it for a moment, and decided that I  wanted today to be just about my family.

I did miss Becky and Alicia already, and knew, from their texts, that  they were missing me, too, but I wanted to get back into things one step  at a time: Becky and Alicia would almost certainly want to talk about  me losing my virginity to Boon, and I wasn't ready to talk about it yet.  It was enough just thinking about it.

"I think I'll just chill with you and Mom today," I said, trying to push  thoughts of Boon away. Why couldn't I just forget him, why did he have  to keep popping up, even when I was doing something as innocent as  eating peanut butter and jelly and talking to my Dad?

"Okay, well, I'm gonna fire up the grill in an hour or so," Dad said,  moving away. I stood in the kitchen for a moment longer, listening to  the clock tick, trying to ground myself in the room. This is my kitchen.  This is my life. This is where I live.

An hour later, I was lounging by the pool, smelling hamburgers on the  grill, not a care in the world. I had my phone with me, obviously, and  was lazily texting with Alicia about getting Thai food the next day.  When my phone buzzed, I expected a text from Alicia confirming that she  would be at the restaurant at two the next day.

Which is why I just about had a heart attack and nearly imploded my own  stomach when I saw that the text was from an unknown number, the same  number Boon had texted me from in Vegas, the same number that I still  hadn't had the heart to save in my phone as his …

Tag, you're it, the text read. Attached was a photo. With shaking  fingers, I tapped the link. The photo that popped up made my head spin.  It was a photo of my house. The very house that I was currently lounging  behind.

How did he find me? Why did he find me? What … my mind was spinning. He  must be joking, I thought. Not only did I not know how he could have  possibly found my house, I also didn't know whether or not the picture  was real or just a joke, a picture taken from Google Maps or something.

My heart pounded in my throat as I sent back the only text I could think of: ???

The seconds seemed to pass like months as I waited for a response. When  my phone buzzed again, I jumped out of the chair like I'd been bit by a  snake.

"Woah nelly, what's wrong with you? Someone post a picture of their  engagement ring?" Mom said, watching me as I shook in my flip-flops.

"I … I … uh … hold on … " I said, my brain working at half capacity. Without  answering my parent's puzzled looks, I rushed around the side of the  house, not even caring about how much I would be showing the neighbors  in my bikini. I didn't take my eyes off my phone until I reached the  front of my house. Then, slowly, I lifted my gaze.         

     



 

And there he was. In all his muscled, tattooed, masculine glory. Boon.  On his bike. Helmet in the crook of his arm, white teeth gleaming in the  sun, blonde hair bouncing rays of sunlight, a picture-perfect moment.  My heart was full. My jaw dropped. I giggled like a schoolgirl. I can't  ever remember being happier in my entire life. I looked down at my  phone.

Come and see, the text read.





14





I remember the feel of the hot cement and street against my bare feet. I  remember the glare of the sun off Boon's helmet. I remember the heat of  his leather jacket, the smell of his sweat, his stubble scratching my  chin as we kissed. I remember, I remember, I remember.

And I remember my parents' shocked faces when I turned around and saw  they had followed me to meet Boon. I remember my mother's bemused my  look, my father's narrowed eyes and sneer. I remember my father suddenly  disappearing into the house as my mother laughed at me. I remember  turning back to Boon, apologizing.