Chapter 2

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Chapter 2:

I frowned, narrowing my eyes on the good looking jack ass in front of me. Who the hell did he think he was?

"What do you mean, chicks like me?" I crossed my arms over my chest again and his eyes wandered down the length of my body. Given that I was wearing baggy ripped jeans and a plain black tank top, I didn't think that I looked too bad.

"Good chicks. Daddy's girls," he muttered and I raised my eyebrows.

"Do you immediately think that you know everybody, or just me?" I retorted, glaring into his calm eyes.

"Don't flatter yourself, love," he chuckled stepping back so that he could lean on the wall behind him.

"If it's any consolation, I don't live with bad boy assholes that have egos to match," I all but spat and turned on my heels to grab my suitcase.

"The good girl always falls for the bad boy," he sneered and I smirked.

"You're in luck because I'm not a good girl," I retorted and a small smile appeared on his face.

"Prove it."

I narrowed my eyes on him and raised a quizzical eyebrow.

"How am I meant to prove something like that?" I asked and he grinned, showing me pearly white, straight teeth.

"Show me just how bad you are," he purred and I shoved his chest, picking up my bag and storming down the hall. Amongst all the annoyance and anger, I'd completely forgotten to ask the jerk which room was mine so was no faced with a dilemma. Do I go 50/50 or do I suck it up and ask him. He watched me with interest, not moving from his position on the wall.

"You hit like a girl," he informed me and I huffed.

"This may come as a shock to you, but I am a girl!" he chuckled softly, nodding to the right to gesture which door was mine.

"I can clearly see that you're a girl," he replied as I pushed the door open. Deciding to ignore him, I went inside and all but slammed the door behind me.

The room itself was quite nice, complete with cream walls, a single bed and laminate flooring. I could see myself getting quite cosy. I shoved my bag on the bed and sighed, running my hands down my face. I could hear Hunter moving around in the front room but I wasn't going out there again for a while, at least not until I'd unpacked.

Hunter wasn't exactly wrong, I wasn't a bad girl. But then what is a bad girl, really? Just some whore that walks around in a club with her skirt around her ass, getting with anything that moves? I don't think so. I didn't drink very often (mainly weddings), I had never tried drugs. I wasn't a virgin but had only ever had sex with my boyfriend and we were super close at the time. Yup, Hunter was spot on when he had guessed my type. Being a 'good girl' wasn't exactly enjoyable, if anything it was draining. Getting perfect grades for my mum and dad, never having fun on the weekends other than my dancing and always doing my homework on time was just plain dull. It was about time that I changed a bit.

Shaking my head at the ridiculous thoughts, I started unpacking everything in the chest of drawers that were sat quietly in the corner. That was when my phone went off and I saw Kenzi's number on caller ID.

"Hi," I replied, carefully balancing the phone between my ear and my shoulder whilst I put my underwear away.

"Hey, how is everything?" she asked and I could hear the TV in the background. She was probably in her dorm having the time of her life with her roommate. Kenzi was pretty much the opposite of me. She was dirty blonde whereas I was brunette, she confident and totally bonkers. Every weekend when we worked at the club, she'd find someone else to go home with and would have the time of her life bumping and grinding beforehand. Kenzi was the type of girl that Hunter would be interested in. I wasn't totally shy, just not as out there as some people.

Bad Boy Isn't My Type... (Published as 'The Good Girl's Guide to Bad Boys)Where stories live. Discover now