Boarding with the Bad Boy [COMPLETE + BONUS published edition]

THE BOARDERS: 40

Sam

Somers doesn't look back as she steps off the patio into the grass of the yard, disappearing into the dark at a run. I'm so pissed I can barely see, my vision locked on Brandon's face, which I'm going to pummel until it's fucking unrecognizable.

I get two solid hits in before Weaver's pulling me back, all of us cursing and spitting. I'm ready to kill Brandon—would really do it—but the sight of Somers, disappearing into the dark at a jog, pulls at me. She shouldn't be alone right now.

"This isn't over, Ott," I snarl, shaking Jared off me. Brandon mutters something obscene through a mouthful of blood, but I ignore him. The games have gone too fucking far, and I need to get to Logan, to make sure she's okay, safe.

I catch sight of her just as her foot catches on something in the pavement of the driveway and she tumbles into a somersault. I can hear her mutter "are you kidding me," pausing to examine the knee of her pants before she's off again, practically sprinting down the driveway. The chick is fast, even in a pair of combat boots.

I chase her, wondering if this is really the right idea—and trying to ward off a rising annoyance at her for disappearing into the dark after what's just happened.

"Somers!"

She doesn't turn and she sure as hell doesn't slow down. She's nearly at the end of the driveway, glancing left and right for oncoming cars.

"Somers, wait." My voice is thick around the bruise forming over my jaw. I hadn't thought Ott got much of a hit in, but he must have gotten something—now my adrenaline is subsiding, my face fucking hurts.

Somers takes a right out of the driveway and starts jogging down the street. Does she think she's going to run all the way back to campus? In a pair of combat boots? No fucking way. I'm surprised when she banks a hard left toward a black truck. I recognize it as the one she was parked in along the Admissions building that first day. So she drove herself to the date?

She unlocks the doors and I kick myself into high gear, following as she runs full-throttle toward her truck.

"Somers, stop!"

"Stay away from me," she cries, spinning. I'm right on her tail and she turns so fast my momentum almost sends me into her. "Don't you get that I don't want to be around you?" Her voice is shrill and panicked. She doesn't sound like herself.

"I'm taking you home."

"No, you're not. You're not taking me anywhere. You're turning around and going back into that party with Brandon and Molly, and when you get back to Remington I promise I'll be gone and we'll never have to put up with each other again." She looks like she might cry, and blinks rapidly before glancing helplessly at the sky.

I set my jaw. No way in fuck am I backing down.

"Jesus Christ, Somers. You're so fucking blind."

"Yeah, I got that. Also stupid, pathetic, a bitch, and a slut. And, right now, I'm teetering on the brink of going completely insane. So get the hell away from me."

Somers turns back to her truck and yanks the door handle, pulling it open. Without thinking, I lean in and push it shut from behind her, my body pressing against hers.

"I said 'get away from me.'" Somers spins to face me, pressing her back to the car door for leverage. Her hands go to my chest, head, shoulders—she strikes me everywhere she can. She's coming undone, and I'm fine being her punching bag. After a few moments, her chest heaves in a sob and I lift my hands to hers, closing my fingers over her fists. Somers bucks against the door of her truck and thrusts her body into mine as if she's trying to knock me off balance. I don't budge, and she lets out a low growl of desperation, wrenching her hands from mine and lifting them to strike out again.

"Logan— "

"Don't call me that."

"Lo." I love the way her first name feels on my tongue. I feel almost guilty with it. "Stop fighting me."

"Stop making me fight you. Walk away."

"You're not driving anywhere like this."

She scoffs. "Like what, Sam?"

When I don't respond right away, she goads me. "Like what? Like, really fucking angry and scared because your best friend cornered me at a party and did more than just threaten? Like, not interested in seeing you or having you anywhere near me for the rest of my life? Or like this?" She holds her arms open so that her ruined clothes are on display.

My eyes flash over her body and I can't help the sneer that raises my lips. I will fucking end Ott for this.

"Put this on," I say, my voice low as I unbutton my flannel and shake it over my shoulders.

"No." She crosses her arms when I try to hand it over.

"Put the shirt on, Somers."

"Get away from me, Evans."

"Goddammit!" I explode, slamming a hand against her truck. She flinches away from me, but I don't apologize. "You have no fucking clue. I want to kill Brandon right now. And I can't look at you like that," I gesture at her torso, "without losing my fucking mind."

"Well before you get all high and mighty about how you feel and what you can't look at, let me remind you that I'm in this situation because of you. Okay? He'll say it's about my mom or his dad, but I was just pushed around by Brandon for ten minutes because of you. So I don't really give a shit what you can and can't handle right now." Her voice echoes down the private road.

"You think I don't know that?" I hiss, taking a step closer and pressing Somers against the truck with my body.

"You're sure acting like you don't," she retorts, but she's breathing hard, her face tilted toward to mine in a way that's making me question everything. In her eyes I see my reflection: my pupils dilated with need, the swell of my jaw where Ott caught me with a fist. I can smell myself, and I wonder if she can too, sweat and blood from the fight. She's looking at me so closely, examining me, and she notices, lifting her eyes to mine. I hope my eyes convey what I feel, the intensity that both scares me and makes my heart race. I have half a mind to tell her I love her and I realize—suddenly, terrifyingly—that it might be true.

"Put the shirt on, Somers. I'm taking you home."