That Crazy Kind: of love Read online

  The worst thing that could happen was he was closed off, shut down, and didn’t want to share anything about himself. And that was okay. A part of me was like that too.

  But there was this pull inside me, one that wanted to explore more of who he was. And the damn thing wouldn’t shut up. I was going to go with it, give it free reign, and see where it took me.

  He looked like he could use a friend. I knew I could too. There weren’t too many genuine, honest people I surrounded myself with. A lot of them were fake, superficial. But when I looked at Aiden, I could see he was one of those genuine ones, that he didn’t have a lot of bullshit he spewed. He probably said things and made no apologies for being honest.

  And I liked that. I wanted a person like that in my life.

  I grabbed my books and shoved them in my backpack before standing and heading to the library. I had study hall this period, so I made my way down the long corridor, took the stairs to the lower level, and just as I rounded the corner, I nearly ran right into Braxton. He grabbed my arms to steady me, this slow grin spreading across his face.

  I didn’t miss the way he dipped his gaze down to my chest. The V-neck T-shirt I wore would’ve showed a slight hint of the tops of my breasts from his angle, and given the fact that I knew Braxton had been trying to get in my pants all this year, he was probably having one hell of a look at the moment.

  I quickly took a step back and muttered an apology for nearly slamming into him.

  I could feel that he didn’t want to let go right away, but he reluctantly did, shoving his hands in the pockets of his letterman jacket, that grin still on his face.

  The truth was, I didn’t like Braxton. Not at all. He was cocky in the worst kind of way, slept with just about every female in school that was junior year and above, and had this air about him that he was better than everyone else. He was rich, which meant on his sixteenth birthday—two years ago—his father had bought him a BMW. And Braxton threw parties every other weekend at his parents’ lake house.

  And he made sure everyone and their mom knew just how loaded he and his family were.

  He was obnoxious, and no amount of me turning him down clued him in that I just wasn’t interested. In fact, I almost felt like it made him try even harder.

  He placed his hand on the wall a few inches above my head, caging me in on one side. I really didn’t have time for this, but before I could move away or tell him that, he leaned in close. I smelled his expensive cologne, and it was a scent that made my stomach clinch in disgust.

  “Harlow, when are you going to come to one of my parties?” His voice was sweet and coaxing. No doubt he used this tone to get what he wanted. But it was the fake kind, the kind that would give you a cavity.

  I was about to tell him never, that parties weren’t really my scene, but he started talking before I could even get a word out, clearly not interested in me actually answering his question.

  “I’m having one after the game next weekend. You should come. Bring whoever you want.”

  The very idea of going to one of Braxton’s parties filled me with distaste.

  “I’m not sure,” I said instead. I didn’t like confrontation, and Braxton could be very aggressive in the way he spoke and in his mannerisms.

  He crowded me, almost pressured me into answering him. I liked to think I was an independent, strong girl in my own right, and that I didn’t really put up with a lot of shit if I didn’t have to. But men like Braxton didn’t get told no very often, so when they did hear it, I was pretty sure it pissed them off to whole new levels.

  That’s why I was sure he kept insisting on talking to me, even though I made it clear I wasn’t interested.

  “Just think about it. Bring a couple friends if you want.” He pulled his hands out of his coat pockets and held them up in mock surrender. “I promise it’s all in good fun. We drink, bullshit, and listen to music. That’s it.”

  I found that hard to believe, but I just smiled and nodded. It was easier to end the conversation than engage more.

  “Don’t you two have somewhere to be, Ms. Bradshaw?”

  The sound of Mrs. Pushin’s voice was a thankful interruption and I nodded, muttering I had to go.

  “I hope I’ll see you there,” Braxton shouted out, but I kept walking, not bothering to respond. There wouldn’t have been a point.

  And even as the distasteful thickness of Braxton’s presence tried to cling to me, I focused on Aiden. And for some reason, that really did help. I didn’t even try to decipher why. I just went with it at the moment, because that was better than the alternative.

  Chapter Four

  Aiden

  I pushed the front door of the school open and headed toward the parking lot. I was using my mom’s old 1990 Pontiac Firebird, one that could have been a “classic,” but it needed so much work done to it, a complete overhaul really, that it was just a sad piece of metal. But it got me to where I needed to go, and that’s all that mattered.

  I pulled my car keys out from the front pocket of my jeans and kept my head down as I walked toward the car. Everyone was filing out of the school, and the noise was deafening with car horns honking, guys shouting, girls giggling, and the screech of tires in the near distance.

  I’d parked at the far end of the lot, as far away from everyone as I could get. I lifted my head and spotted my mom’s faded red and white Firebird. And when I would start the engine in a few moments, the fucker would rumble so loud it’d vibrate the asphalt.

  I could hear the car beside our Pontiac trying to turn over, the engine sputtering. A second later, the sound of the hood being popped came through, and then the driver side door opened. As soon as I saw the mop of auburn hair atop her head, I knew who it was.

  Harlow.

  I felt this unusual tightening in my belly at the sight of her.

  She hadn’t noticed me yet as she made her way around the front of her car and lifted the hood of her little Honda Civic. She stared at the guts of the car for so long I knew she didn’t know what to make of it.

  “Trouble?” I asked and made my way toward her. She looked up, and I saw her eyes widen a bit before she masked her expression and ran her hands up and down her jeans.

  “Yeah. I have no idea what’s wrong with it.” She looked down at the engine, and I saw the way her brows knitted in confusion.

  I found it cute as hell.

  “Do you know anything about cars?” She sounded so hopeful.

  I nodded. “A little bit.” That was a lie. I knew a hell of a lot about fixing cars. I had to in order to fix the Firebird every time the fucker broke down, which seemed to be every month.

  “I’m Harlow by the way.”

  Oh, I knew, but she didn’t know that.

  “Aiden,” I replied.

  “I know,” she said softly, and again, I felt this pleasurable twinge consume me. “The new guy who has everyone curious about him.” She gave a nervous laugh, maybe embarrassed she’d said that out loud. “Sorry. That was weird.”

  I chuckled and shook my head. “You’re good.”

  She moved to the side so I could stand beside her. I braced my hands on the frame of the Civic and looked at the engine. I messed with a few things, checked wires, made sure nothing had gotten loose. It took me a good five minutes of checking shit under the hood before I finally found what the issue was.

  I straightened and wiped my hands on my jeans, looking over at her. Damn, she was tiny, probably about a foot shorter than my six-foot-three height. And I couldn’t help but notice how cute her expression was as she stared at the engine again, a look of concentration on her face.

  “I’m pretty sure it’s your fuel pump fuse that’s gone to shit. Maybe your boyfriend can fix it? It’s easy enough if he knows what he’s doing.” I was obviously assuming she had someone.

  She looked over at me. “No boyfriend to fix anything, and I have no idea what a fuel pump is.” She laughed uncomfortably.

  The fact that she didn’t ha
ve a boyfriend shouldn’t have pleased me as much as it did. “It’s an easy enough fix, but not something I can do in the parking lot. I do work at Mickey’s in town. I can see about getting you a tow there?”

  She started biting at her bottom lip, her straight white teeth gently pulling at the pink flesh. She glanced at me as if my words pulled her from her thoughts. “Thanks. But I can have my dad work it out. He knows Mickey so I might get lucky and not have to pay for that tow.” She laughed softly and I liked how the sound made me feel.

  I was getting fucking hard. What in the fuck was my problem?

  I cleared my throat and turned away from her, closing my eyes and thinking about doing laundry, fixing cars, hell, stirring a pot of fucking soup. I thought about anything and everything that could help get my sudden arousal in check. When I felt my erection start to get under control, I exhaled and turned back around.

  “Thanks anyways. You saved me some trouble trying to figure out what was wrong then having to pay somebody to tell me what to fix.” She looked back at her car again and started biting on that lush lower lip once more.

  I clenched my jaw as I felt that arousal start to spike again. “Do you have a ride home? Someone you can call?” I don’t know why I asked that. It wasn’t any of my business. But knowing she needed help had this part of me rising up, wanting to take the lead. When she looked back at me, she gave me the sweetest fucking smile. The things I felt in this moment were unusual, but they also felt pretty damn good.

  She pulled out her phone and looked at the screen then glanced up and around the parking lot. It had pretty much cleared out by now. When she looked back at me, I knew what she was going to say.

  “My dad gets off in about an hour. I’ll wait.”

  She actually thought I’d let her stay here by herself? Even if it was school property, I wasn’t an asshole. Besides, I didn’t want to leave her just yet.

  “I can take you home if you’re okay with that?”

  She gave me this warm smile. “Really? I’m not putting you out too much?”

  God, no.

  Although I didn’t say that.

  “No. Besides, I’m not just going to leave you here alone, even if it is just for an hour.”

  Her smile broadened and she nodded slowly. “Who would have known?” The way she said it was more to herself.

  “Who would have known what?”

  She nodded and flashed me a pretty smile. “Yeah, that the silent loner new kid is actually a gentleman.”

  I didn’t know about all that, but I’d let her think I was something I wasn’t if it meant she kept looking at me like that.

  “If you’re sure it’s not a problem,” she prompted, and I shook my head. “I’m only about a ten-minute ride from the school.”

  I tipped my head toward my car. “Hop on in.”

  She grabbed her bag out of her car, locked it up, and then hopped in the passenger seat of the Firebird. I started the engine, the deep rumble loud, the vibrations from the engine shaking the car. I looked over at her, expecting her to maybe seem a little bit disgusted. A lot of people who attended Silver Creek had sticks up their assess, were posh as fuck and not my scene at all.

  The car was outdated, loud, and obnoxious, and it was a massive step down from her little Civic. But the expression she had on her face was… excitement. She glanced over at me with a big grin.

  “This thing is a beast,” she said, her voice enthusiastic as she looked around. “It’s awesome. Do you ever race people in it?”

  I was a little bit taken aback, shocked that she was actually interested in the Pontiac. Back in the day, it had been one hell of a ride. But those days were long gone. “Nah,” I said and put the car in gear before pulling out of the parking spot and heading out of the lot. “I don’t think the Firebird will be winning any races anytime soon.”

  She started laughing softly, and I felt my muscles tighten at the sound. I liked it. I liked it a hell of a lot. I curled my hands around the steering wheel tightly as I pulled onto the main street, following her directions to get to her house. There were intervals of silence between us, but it wasn’t awkward. I was surprised at how much I liked her company, even if we were just sitting in silence for some of it.

  Five minutes into the trip, and I felt her focus on me again. I glanced at her and saw she looked at me with an almost quizzical expression on her face.

  “What?” I asked, feeling amusement, knowing she was probably about to dig a little deeper. Normally, that would annoy me if someone wanted to be nosy, but for some reason, with Harlow, I liked that she wanted to know more about who I was. We were stuck in the vehicle together, so it was only natural she wanted to ask some questions. But what surprised me was that I wanted to answer them, that I wanted her to know about me.

  “Are you liking Silver Creek so far?”

  I felt my jaw clench before I realized I was doing it. “Honestly? The people here are fucking assholes.”

  She started laughing, and I felt myself grin that she was so easygoing. God, she was so damn cute.

  “So true, Aiden.”

  Fuck, I liked how she said my name.

  “Yeah, the people at the school suck,” she added, and I was surprised she admitted it and felt the same way. I’d seen the people she hung out with, the popular crowd, although she didn’t seem like them. She didn’t seem like a fucking prick like the majority of them did.

  I sure as hell thought the same thing. “Well, if I’m being honest, the last couple schools I’ve been to have all had the same shitty people.”

  She made a sound of agreement, and then we sat in that comfortable silence for a couple more minutes.

  “Do you have any plans for after graduation? College, a major picked out?”

  The truth was, no one had really given a shit about me to care what I had to say, no one but my mother. I felt a little off balance with Harlow wanting to know, caring. She didn’t even know me, yet she acted like she was really interested in what I had to say.

  I cleared my throat and shifted in my seat, not used to this attention. I hadn’t answered, and I felt the comfortable feeling that had once filled the interior of the car between us start to get tense.

  “I’m sorry I’m prying. You don’t have to answer.”

  I glanced at her and saw she stared out the passenger side window. I’d made things awkward with my silence. I didn’t want that. “No, you didn’t pry. I’m just not used to people… giving a shit about what I have to say.” I focused on the road again, but I felt her look at me. Long seconds passed with her doing just that, but I refused to glance at her and make this even more weird.

  “That’s really sad,” she finally said softly, and I heard the genuine sincerity in her voice. “Nobody deserves to not have people give a shit about what they have to say.”

  I did look at her then, and I felt my heart lurch in my chest. “I’d like to go to college after this, if nothing else than to make something of myself and my mom proud.”

  She gave me a sweet smile, and I tightened my hands on the steering wheel again.

  “Are you and your mom close?”

  My throat tightened and I nodded. I had this very strong urge to confide in her. “Yeah. I’m all she has and vice versa.” I cleared my throat and shifted on the seat once more, feeling really strange saying this shit to a virtual stranger.

  “I’m sorry,” she said again, so softly I almost didn’t hear her.

  “For what?” She shrugged, and I focused on the road, telling myself to stop looking at her.

  “I’m just sorry you guys are all you have to each other.”

  I pulled to a halt at a set of stoplights and didn’t know how to respond. I could hear how much she meant those words. I had the sudden urge to reach out and hold her hand. Of course, I didn’t do it.

  “What do you want to do when you get to college?” She changed the subject, and I was thankful.

  I thought about her question for a moment, even though I
already knew what I wanted to study. “Mechanical engineering,” I finally replied. “Although I don’t know if I’m smart enough for all that. But I like fixing shit, working with my hands.” I gave a sarcastic laugh. “But my future is probably destined in being a grease monkey and working under the hood of cars.”

  “It takes talent to be able to figure out what’s wrong and know how to fix it. Not a lot of people, me included, can do that.”

  I looked at her for probably the fiftieth time since she’d gotten in my car. God, who was this girl and why was she so incredible?

  “Just turn left up here,” she said and pointed in the direction I was to go.

  A couple minutes later and she had me stopping in front of a ranch-style home. The yard was landscaped, with these flowering trees lining the entranceway. Shit, if she saw where I lived, she’d probably think twice about getting into my car again.

  “Thank you so much.” She was smiling at me again. “Here,” she said and reached into her bag, pulling out a ten-dollar bill. “For gas.”

  I knitted my brows and shook my head. “No fucking way.”

  Her eyes widened before she started laughing.

  “Shit, sorry. I meant no. I’m not taking your money. It was on my way and I offered.”

  “You’re sure?”

  I nodded. “I’d be a real douche to take your money.”

  She tucked the bill back in her bag and gave me a sweet look. “Well, thank you again.”

  “It wasn’t any trouble.” She needed to get out of my car, not because I wanted her to—because I sure as fuck didn’t—but because the longer I sat in her presence, the more I felt that unusual, pleasurable sensation move through me, and that meant I’d do something stupid like touch her, hold her... kiss her.

  I was shocked at how intense that feeling was, the need to stake my claim, because I didn’t want her sharing any part of herself with another person. It was selfish and unrealistic, but fuck did it feel right.

  But she stayed in my car for a long moment, neither one of us saying anything. We just looked at each other, the air thickening between us. I swore she didn’t want to get out, maybe thinking of something to say to me. I could really fucking relate.