Chapter Three

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"Why?" I whispered.

"I'm the Vice President of my club, I've done some questionable things, I hangout with people you shouldn't even be associated with, I've been to jail, I've slept with a lot of girls, and that's just a fraction of the reasons why you should run screaming to the hills." He paused. "I don't know who you think I am, but I will never fit into your world. I'll only ruin it."

I looked at the Vice President patch that was on his right peck underneath his name patch. I then noticed that his leather jacket actually had a leather vest over it and that's what all his patches were sewn to. I stepped towards him and ran the tips of my fingers over his Vice President patch and looked right into his icy blue eyes.

"I want to stay away from you. I knew you were trouble from the second I saw you, but there's just something about you that keeps drawing me back in." I licked my lips. "Pick me up tomorrow at about twelve, I'll need to go get my car." I turned and walked away from him. I really needed to figure out where the old Ainsley went because this new "badass" Ainsley was exhausting.

After my shower I curled up in bed and thought about everything he said. Why didn't any of that turn me off of him? If any other guy had told me just one of those things I would have walked away and never looked back.

I had never been interested in the bad boy type. I'd always picked the captain of the football team, or frat guy, always preppy, never rebellious. So why was I wrapped around Brax when he wasn't even my type. I could never settle down with him. He would never be able to fit into my world. He said it himself.

I'd just have to try my best to get over this little obsession so that I could move on with my goody two shoes life.

Operation: Get Over Braxton. Begins... now. Or maybe tomorrow. After we go get my car. Jesus. Maybe I needed a therapist, or medication.

The next morning the sun was shining through my curtains as I stretched my muscles out. It looked like it was going to be a pretty decent day. I walked downstairs and grabbed a sparkling VOS out of the fridge before warming up one of the oatmeals I had meal prepped.

Maybe the reason I was so crazy about Braxton was because I was alone. Hmmm. A companion would definitely help. Plus I was starting to get lonely. I needed a dog. A protective dog. A dog that would keep me company and scare away the freaks of Las Vegas.

Mission Number One: Buy Myself A Dog. Effective immediately. Or as soon as I got my car.

A knock sounded on my door and I opened it without looking to see who it was. Braxton's eyes bugged out. I then realized I was still wearing my skimpy pajamas. A white camisole and a pair of neon coral lacy boxers that were extremely revealing. Oops. My subconscious hid herself while my inner freak smirked.

"Sorry I just got out of bed." I stepped back to let him into my house. He stepped forward and looked around. "Help yourself to the kitchen it'll take me just a second to change." I walked back to my bedroom and put on a pair of jean shorts and a fitted v neck. I brushed through my hair which still looked impeccable, not to brag, and then walked to my kitchen were he was sitting in the barstool next to mine.

"I liked the other get up better." He shot me a devilish grin.

"The public probably wouldn't approve." I laughed.

I finished my oatmeal, grabbed my purse and put on my aviators before following him out to my driveway where his bike was parked. He fastened the helmet on my head and then drove me towards the bar where I had left my car.

He parked beside the drivers side door and killed the engine.

"I was serious last night." He ran a hand through his hair and sounded and exasperated sigh.

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