Scandalous - Michael B Jordan

chapter 31

un-fucking-believeable. did she think i didn't have any fucking self-control? that i punched her piece-of-shit brother out because i had a fucking temper? that i was defending her virtue? what the actual fuck?

i floored the engine and drove toward the nearest shit-smear town. i didn't know if i was more pissed at her for being fucking blind or myself for actually giving a shit about this girl. and she was a girl.

she was too damn young for me, and i had no fucking business thinking about the goddamn what-ifs. if she was pregnant, i'd deal with it. i'll be there for my kid. my kid.

the thought alone made my chest tight and anger surge. i've never been so fucking stupid with a woman before. never. but a goddamn hollywood pain in my ass spread her legs in front my plate and i had to fucking have her.

a half hour later, two towns over, i was pulling into a brand-name pharmacy, thankful i didn't have to deal with some small-town shit. i pulled into a parking spot and threw the engine into park, but i didn't turn it off.

"wait here." i ordered. the last thing i needed was someone recognizing her right now.

she smirked. "where am i gonna go?" she gestured across the parking lot. "the dollar store?"

who fucking knew with this chick? it'd taken me days to find her. "lock the door after i get out. don't open it until i come back."

she saluted me. she fucking saluted me. "yes, sir."
i shoved the door open.

"hey."

i glanced back at her, raising an eyebrow. "what?"

for a second she looked at me and i would've sworn i was looking at the real woman, not the actress. then her expression hardened and she fake smiled. "don't  bother getting any condoms." she waved a finger between us. "it's not happening."

pissed off, i threw her shit right back on her. "who says i was getting them for you?" i slammed my door and pounded my fist once on the window. "lock up."

i didn't wait to hear if she did what i said. i strode into the store and went looking for something i never thought i would be buying in the middle of fucking Iowa, let alone any state. five minutes later, i was in over my head.

"do you, um, need any help, sir?" i glanced toward the voice, and a barely legal, blonde-haired, blue-eyed girl who could've been aspen's cousin blushed at me. "i mean–" she pointed at the pregnancy tests. "do you have any questions?"

"you gonna answer them for me if i did?" she looked about an hour past her eighteenth birthday.

she blushed harder. "well, i mean, not that i have any personal experience using them." she laughed uncomfortably. "but i know, um, which ones, people, um, usually buy."

i grabbed the one that promised early results. "where's the soda?"

she exhaled like she was relieved i hadn't asked her something else and pointed across the store. "the cold case toward the back. there's lots of choices."

fucking great. i strode over, grabbed a soda, and went to the checkout. the jail-bait chick quickly hustled behind the register and smiled.

"do you need anything else today, sir?"

shaking my head, i fished my wallet out, threw down some cash and leveled her with a look. she handed me my change.

i gave her a small smile and walked out. two strides before the suv, aspen glanced up and unlocked the door. i got in and handed her the damn soda. "here."

she took it and looked at it strangely. "ginger ale?"

"yeah." i backed out of the spot.

"now i feel like an ass, but thank you." she said sincerely.

"welcome." i muttered, pulling back onto the only road through town.

she opened the drink and took a sip. "where are we going?"

back to miami. "motel."

"because that's a solid plan."

"you're ready to drive back to miami, i'll keep going." i was tired as fuck from driving all night, but if she said the word, i'll man up.

"that's an even worse plan."

my jaw ticked. "why?"

she threw her hands up. "i don't live in miami, okay. i don't live anywhere. and you just took me from the one place i did live, so what the hell do you expect me to say? yay, road trip?"

i pulled over. i didn't want to have this conversation on the side of the road, but fuck it. i threw the suv in park and looked at her. "i found out your real name last night at midnight when i was in fucking kansas, after spending nine goddamn days reconning every damn street named oak. i was twelve hours away, and i drove through the night. i'm fucking tired. we're going back to the dump of a motel i checked into an hour ago so i could shower, then we're gonna take a fucking nap. when we wake up, if you don't feel like puking, we're gonna eat a goddamn meal together. questions?"

she hesitated only a fraction of a second. "will french fries be involved?"