Chapter 27 - His Baby

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"He's a keeper," Brandon chuckles.

I pull my bag on properly and head for the door. I guess i'll just walk. I wanted to anyway, but what Zeke said is just annoying. When I get outside, I see Zeke driving off in his car. Asshole.

"Come on," Brandon says. I didn't even realise he was standing beside me. He begins walking though the parking lot.

"Come where?" I follow him.

"On my face, if you'd like."





"Gross," I grimace and he laughs, walking backwards as he looks at me.

"I'm taking you home," he finally says.

I come to a stop. "No, thanks. I'm fine with walking."

He stops too. "Marnie, I ain't gonna rape you. I'm a nice person doing a good deed. Plus, if Blakely knows I drove his baby home, he'll be pissed."

Baby? I'm not his baby. Crap, why am I smiling so big.

"You like him," he smiles at my expression.

"I do not."

"You know, he don't deserve a chick like you, but the dudes changed a lot. Probably because of you. Which people are pissed about, by the way."

I know Zeke has stopped smoking and drinking, but he's still the same person. "Who is people?"

He raises an eyebrow and starts walking again. "Just some dudes; Jordan. Zeke's friends. They're not really friends anymore though."

"Because of me?"

"No, because of some shit that happened."

"What happened?"

"Ask Blakely."

"He won't tell me."

"Then I shouldn't."

He comes to a stop in front of a motorbike. "No way," I shake my head.

"Don't be a little girl," he gets on and hands me a helmet.

"We could die."

"Baby, I've been riding this thing for long enough and i've never died."

It worries me that i've come so used to hearing people call me baby since I started hanging out with Zeke.

"If I go on, will you tell me about Zeke and Jordan?"

He sighs, "Okay. You're so manipulative."

I shrug, not denying it, and climb onto the back of his bike and put the helmet on.

He revs the engine. "You better hold on."

I feel uncomfortable putting my arms around Brandon. As if I'm betraying Zeke.

"Go slow," I tell him.

"I like it fast, baby."

"Shut up." I can't talk to any of these people without them throwing innuendos around.

I tell him my address and as he pulls out of the parking lot, I hold onto him for dear life and close my eyes shut. The wind from the ride is making my hair fly everywhere, and every time we turn a corner I feel like I am going to die. But I make it home alive, and he parks his motorcycle in my driveway.

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