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Winter: A High School Bully Romance (Sunset Beach High Book 2)
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Winter: A High School Bully Romance
Sunset Beach High, Book 2
By
McKayla Box
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Winter: A High School Bully Romance
Sunset Beach High, Book 2
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2019
Cover design by McKayla Box
This book is protected under the copyright laws of the United States of America. Any reproduction or unauthorized use of the material or artwork herein is prohibited without the expressed written consent of the author.
INTRODUCTION
I'm not New Girl anymore.
I have friends.
And I have Trevor.
Friends I trust and a boy I love.
Things should be easy.
But things are never that easy.
Never that simple.
Because I also have enemies.
Old and new.
And they aren't happy that I'm happy.
So the target is still on my back.
And it's bigger than ever.
WARNING: Winter is the second book in The Sunset Beach High series. It contains mature themes, sexual content, and profanity. If you're not a fan of those things, this isn't the book for you. But if you like serious stuff mixed with lots of bad words and some sweaty sex, THIS IS THE BOOK FOR YOU. It is the second in a four book series.
ONE
“So you're the one.”
I'm coming out of the surf. My board is tucked under my arm and my thighs are burning from the hour I just spent chasing waves. It's December and both the air and ocean are cold. It's not winter like in other parts of the country, but it's cold for Sunset Beach.
I push my wet hair from my face so I can get a better look at who's talking to me. “Excuse me?”
“You're the one,” he says again.
I take a good look at him. Maybe six foot two, short black hair, green eyes. He's wearing white board shorts and nothing else. He has to be freezing. He's lean and tan, his arms corded with muscle. There's a diagonal scar cutting across his chin.
Definitely not hard on the eyes.
“I'm the one what?” I say.
“The one I keep hearing about,” he says, smiling. “You're the one.”
“Um, okay?” I say. “Do I know you?”
He thinks, then shakes his head. “No. Not yet, anyway. You will, though.” He smiles again and it's a great smile. “Presley, right?”
“That's right,” I say.
He scans the beach before looking at me again. “I'm kind of surprised we haven't met yet. This is pretty much my beach.”
“You own the beach?”
He shrugs.
“Pretty sure the state of California owns it,” I tell him. “Someone may have taken your money.”
He laughs. “I heard you were funny. That's cool. I like funny chicks.”
Chicks.
Assholes.
“Good to know,” I say. “And I gotta go.”
“You don't wanna stay?” he asks. “Get to know me a little better?” He smiles again. “I promise, I'll show you a good time.”
“Not interested in staying and not interested in your good time,” I tell him. I move to get around him and he shuffles his feet in the sand to cut me off. I sigh. “Really? We're gonna do this?”
“We can do whatever you'd like, Presley,” he says, then chuckles.
I hate that he knows my name. “Get the fuck out of my way.”
He throws his hands back in mock surrender.
And I hear laughter off to my left. I look in that direction.
Two more guys, both with great tans and plenty of muscle, are watching us.
I look back at the guy in front of me. “Go play with your boyfriends.” I start up the beach past him.
“I heard you were tough,” he says behind me. “I like tough chicks, too.”
Chicks.
Jesus.
“Too bad I don't like assholes,” I say over my shoulder.
“Not what I heard,” he says. “Trevor Robinson's a first class asshole.”
I stop in the stand at the mention of my boyfriend's name and turn around. “Excuse me?”
He's laughing and so are his friends. “You heard me. “First class asshole.”
“You must be pretty tough to say that when he's not here,” I tell him. “Probably be a little different if he was here.”
He laughs some more. “Or not. Your boyfriend doesn't scare me, sweetheart. I'm not some punk ass from Sunset Beach.”
“More like just some punk ass period,” I say and turn back around.
“But you tell him I said hi anyway,” he calls behind me. “You tell him Kane says what's up. And you tell him how wet you got when you saw me.”
His buddies laugh some more.
I turn around again. “Oh. You like me?”
“Oh, honey, I'll do more than like you,” he says.
I shake my head. “This is awkward.” I point with my index finger, first at him, then at his buddies. “I thought you guys were all...together. My bad.”
For the first time since he showed up, his cocky smile fades.
I give him the finger, turn around, and head for the parking lot.
TWO
“Just spread your legs wider,” Trevor says.
I spread my legs wider.
“Now ease yourself down on top of it.”
I ease myself down.
“Feel that?” he says.
“Yeah.”
“Feel good?”
“Yeah.”
“Rock back and forth a little,” he says. “Just to get a feel for it.”
I rock back and forth to get a feel for it.
I look at him. He's smiling and I know what he's thinking.
“You're enjoying this way too much,” I tell him.
“I'm thinking about what it would be like to be the bike,” he says, his smile growing.
We are in his driveway, and I'm straddling his motorcycle. I told him I wanted to learn how to ride it and it's the first time I've sat on it without him in front of me.
“You know what it's like to be the bike,” I tell him. “Pretty sure you found out last night.”
“I have a bad memory,” he says. “I need to be reminded, Pres.”
His grin is wicked. He's wearing a pair of navy board shorts and long sleeved T-shirt. His blond hair is tousled in a perfect way. His skin is the color of caramel, darkened so brown by the sun in summer that his tan doesn't even fade in winter. There's two days worth of stubble on his face and his ice blue eyes are sparkling.
Maybe I will remind him.
“Now what?” I ask. “Is there a key or something?”
“Right there on top. See it?”
I look down at the panel in front of me and spot the key just below the speedometer. I turn it to the right and the engine purrs to life beneath me. Goosebumps pop on my shoulders.
Trevor walks over and puts his hand on the small of my back. I'm out of my wetsuit, but I'm still in my bikini, and his hand on my bare skin triggers more goosebumps. I wanted him to come surfing with me, but he had to help his dad with something at his office. So I'd gone straight to his place after my surf session and my encounter with Kane.
Whoever the fuck he is.
“Put your hand up there on the throttle,” he says. “And just barely rotate it
forward.”
I do as he says and the engine growls under me.
“Left side is the brake,” he says. “Just like a regular bike.”
I used my left hand to clamp, then unclamp the brake. I rev the engine again, a little harder this time.
His lips find the back of my neck. “You look so fucking hot on that thing.”
I shiver, but lean back, pressing my neck against him. “You're trying to distract me.”
“Is it working?”
“Yes.”
He laughs and his lips tremble against my neck. “Good.”
Good.
That's the right word for where Trevor and I are at. It was a rough start and we both made dumb mistakes. But once we started being honest with one another about what we wanted, things smoothed out. He is still an arrogant prick at times and I'm impulsive and do things to piss him off. But there's less of that.
And more of things like me straddling his motorcycle in his driveway while he kisses me.
He stands up again. “That's really all there is to it then. You just need some practice. Key is to go slow at first. And watch out for assholes in cars.”
“Assholes in cars?”
“They won't see you,” he says. “They literally won't see you. It's like you're invisible. Can't tell you how many times I've had to stick my foot into some idiot's door because they were trying to change lanes into me.”
“Oh,” I say. “Maybe I don't want to ride it then.”
“Don't be afraid,” he says, his fingers caressing my back. “Just takes some practice. You can do it. I know you can.”
I look at him. “You sure?”
He smiles and nods. “Positive.”
I believe him. He makes me feel safe and he doesn't lie to me. And he makes me think I can do most anything. I never would've thought I'd say those things about him, but now?
I say them all the time.
I just want things to stay smooth.
I think about mentioning Kane and coming up to me on the beach.
But I don't care about Kane and I don't want Trevor to fly off the handle.
I turn the key and the engine shuts off. I swing my leg over the bike and put my arms around his neck. I kiss him hard on the mouth.
“Come on,” I whisper. “Let's go inside. And go for a ride.”
THREE
“Bitch, you didn't text me all weekend,” Bridget says. “What the hell?”
“I know,” I say. “Sorry. I suck.”
It's Monday morning and we are driving to school, Bridget behind the wheel of her Mini and me in the passenger seat. It's become our routine now and it feels like I've known her forever. I can't imagine having moved to Sunset Beach and not meeting her. I've never had a best friend before, but I do now.
“It's fine,” she says. “I figured you were with Trevor. Which explains the sucking.”
We laugh and I punch her in the arm.
“Stop,” I say. “But, yeah. We spent most of the weekend together.”
She pulls into the drive-thru line at our go to coffee place. “Things are good?”
“Yeah, really good,” I say. “Like, really good. I feel like I should be worried or something.”
“Well, you went through a lot of shit,” she says. “Maybe that's a good thing.”
We did go through a lot of shit.
“Like, maybe it makes you stronger,” she says. “As a couple. Like, you trust one another more. I don't know.” She orders at the speaker for both of us, then looks at me. “But what would I know? I can't seem to find a decent guy to save my life.”
I put my hand on her arm. “That's because boys are fucking dumb and they don't know what they're missing out on.”
She makes a face. “I don't know. Starting to think I should go lesbian. Just be easier.”
We both laugh and she pulls us up to the window.
“Maybe we should set you up,” I tell her. “Trevor can probably--”
She holds up a hand. “Stop right there. You've somehow managed to tame the hottest bad boy any of us know. And that's awesome. But me?” She shakes her head. “No way. I am too fragile for a bad boy. I need the super nice, super sweet kid who doesn't want to hurt my feelings.” She pauses. “But who also looks like Ryan Reynolds and knows how to get me off.”
We both laugh again.
The guy in the window gives us our total and it's my turn to pay and he passes our drinks back to us with my change. She pulls out of the drive thru lane and back onto the road.
“Is Trevor still threatening to kill Derek?” she asks.
“Not every day,” I tell her. “More like every other day now.”
Derek Morgan. The heir to Trevor's throne as the kind of Sunset Beach High, if Trevor ever gave it up. And also the asshole that set me up in a horrific way.
“Probably should've killed him that night at his house,” Bridget says. “Made the world a better place for all of us.”
I shrug. I don't like reliving that night for a hundred different reasons. For what was done to me and what Trevor did to Derek. It was like one giant nightmare that was all too real. I was more than happy to move past it.
Or, move past most of it, anyway.
“What do you think would've happened if you'd gone to the dance with him?” she asks.
The dance was the Fall Ball. Derek had invited me and in a moment of anger at Trevor, I'd agreed to go. But the entire thing had been part of a bigger set up. Derek and his girlfriend actually found an opportunity before the dance to try and get me, so we'd never gotten that far.
Thank god.
“I don't know,” I tell her. “And I don't want to know.”
“You know Holly left right?” she says. “Gina told me on Saturday.”
“No, I didn't know that,” I say. “Good fucking riddance.”
Holly Nichols had done her best to latch onto Trevor and I'd punched her in the face. Not my finest moment, but she'd deserved it. Somehow, she'd gotten together with Derek to plot her revenge, killing two birds with one stone. She'd started beating the crap out of me at a party after I'd been drugged before Bridget arrived to get in the way. Trevor showed up soon after that and put an end to all of it.
“Yeah, I guess her parents wanted her out,” Bridget says, turning into school. “Kind of surprised they didn't wait until the end of the semester at Christmas break. But she is gone.”
“Good,” I say. “I don't ever need to see her again.”
“I hope her nose heals crooked,” she says. “Like a boxer's.”
We laugh and she parks her car in her designated parking spot, the one she painted over the summer. Maddie and Gina are already there, standing in front of the the spot. Gina is giving us each the middle finger and Maddie turns around and shakes her ass in our direction.
“Dumb bitches,” Bridget says, laughing.
Bridget is my best friend, but Maddie and Gina are both a close second. We've become a foursome, our own little gang of girls. Even though I didn't grow up with the three of them, I feel like I did.
“You whores are late,” Gina says as we get out.
“We're not late,” Bridget says.
“Bell's gonna ring in five,” Maddie says.
“So we're not late,” Bridget says.
Gina unzips her backpack and pulls out a small box. “Late if you want a donut.”
“And she made me wait for your asses,” Maddie says, reaching for the box. “Gimme.”
Gina pops the top of the box open. Four oversized cake donuts, covered in icing and rainbow sprinkles are inside.
“Oh god,” Maddie says. “Gimme.”
We each take one and Gina tosses the box in the trash can on the sidewalk. I take a bite and it's sugary and cakey and amazing.
“I'm gonna be so fat if I keep eating these,” Gina says, staring at the donut in her hand. “But I don't even care.” She takes an enormous bite.
“Not possible,” Maddie says, wiping at her mouth with the ba
ck of her hand. “You never gain an ounce.”
“I'm blessed with a good metabolism,” she says.
“And you fuck like a rabbit,” Maddie says. “That burns a shit ton of calories.”
I laugh and have to put my hand to my mouth to keep from spitting donut everywhere.
“Perhaps,” Gina says, then eyes me. “And perhaps that's why you're looking so fit and trim this morning.” She narrows her eyes. “How many times did you do it this weekend with Mr. Blue Eyed Sex Bomb?”
I finish my donut, then lick the frosting off my fingers. “That was delicious. And a lady never tells.”
Gina frowns. “Lady?” She looks at each of us. “I don't see any ladies around here.”
“Good point,” I say. “I think it was six.”
They all howl as the bell rings.
FOUR
Trevor is standing at my locker, flanked by his two best friends, Brett and Jake.
“Took you long enough,” Trevor says, leaning against the locker door. “Thought you weren't coming.”
“Bitch was having a donut,” Gina says. “Back off, pretty boy.” She glances at me. “She was considering having...six.”
I smack her in the arm and all three of the girls crack up.
“You had donuts?” Jake asks. “You have anymore?”
“Sorry,” Gina says. “Only four.”
“Rude,” Jake says. “Shoulda brought some for all of us.”
Maddie rolls her eyes. “Get your own. We aren't your slaves.”
Jake grins, his brown eyes lighting up. “But you could be.”
“In our fucking nightmares,” Bridget says.
“More like a dream come true,” Jake says. “Try it. You might like it.”
“Yeah, I might also like setting myself on fire,” Bridget says. She smiles at me. “I'm out. Catch you at lunch.”
Maddie follows her and Gina gives me a quick hug, shows her middle finger to Jake, then hustles after them.
“Your friends need to learn some manners,” Jake says.
“It's not my friends who need the lessons,” I tell him. “Try not coming off like such a gorilla and one of them might be interested some day.”