The Good Girl's Bad Boys [Book One of TGGBB Series] (Completed, Editing)

Chapter Thirty-Nine: Wait, What's In That Duffel Bag?

Parker smiled. "Say it again."

"Say what again?"

"Boyfriend. I like being called that, say it again."

"Um okay," I said before saying, "Boyfriend."

His grin widened. It was so cute and stupid that I couldn't help but smile too.

"Say it again."

I laughed. "Boyfriend."

"Can you spell it?"

"B-O-Y-F-R-I-E-N-D."

"Ugh, get a room," Jordan grumbled, there was a slight pause before he exclaimed. "Wait, don't you dare!"

Parker and I burst out laughing.

"Hold it," Declan voice said from the phone. "Did you just spell out boyfriend?"

"Oh, so he can spell," I commented in amazement.

"Very funny," he said. "And I'm serious."

"Yes, I did," I told him. "What of it?"

"Please tell me you mean a friend that's a boy."

"I'm afraid I can't," I said. "Probably because we're... more than friends," I said with a sly grin.

"Hmm, that's what I thought." Declan said calmly before yelling, "Drive, Bent, drive!"

Suddenly I heard honks from behind us. I looked at the side view mirror while Parker glanced at the rear view mirror. But it vanished behind us and came up beside us. We both looked to the right and we might as well push our sunglasses down in disbelief and give a low whistle.

"Is that-"

"Yes, yes it is."

It was a grey Maserati GranCabrio that was rolling next to us with no one else but the guys in it. Someone just kill me now, just please. The guys were glaring daggers at the both of us. Bennett pointed at his eyes with two fingers then pointed them at us, giving us the look, not a look, the look. Declan was pounding his fist into his palm, and then cracking his knuckles that could be heard from here. And Jordan was making the gesture of slicing his neck and pointing at us. Then all at once, they held up the bats in one hand that Bennett was talking about. Then they pointed the bats to us, but I think they mean Parker mostly. I think they were all referring to Parker. I looked at him and I saw him visibly gulp.

"Well that settles it," he said, looking back at the road. "I'm going to die."

"Don't worry, Parker," I assured him. "You can beat him."

He looked at me in disbelief. "What? You expect me to race him? Must I remind you that that's a Maserati? A Maserati! This is a Mitsubishi. I Mitsu-wish-i I can beat this. You know I'm scared because I'm making lame puns. I can't race a Maserati with this Mitsubishi*. Oh yeah, I just called it that. Do you know why? Because we're not going to win." He began looking around the car. "Where's the white flag? I'm going to wave it. Oh, here it is."

"Parker, you already beat Bennett in the Mercedes-Benz. You can beat him again in a Maserati."

"But it's a Maserati!"

I was actually watching him as he was freaking out a bit. Well honestly, you can't blame him. The Three Musketeers giving you gestures while in a Maserati can make even a grown man piss himself. He was hyperventilating, fidgeting in his seat, and still looking for that white flag.

"I know," I told him. "Now calm down."

"I can't calm down!"

"Parker, calm down."