No Good by Cole Stevie J. & Lovell L. P

Author:Cole, Stevie J. & Lovell, L. P. [Cole, Stevie J. & Lovell, L. P.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Romance, Contemporary, Young Adult
Amazon: B087B817YZ
Goodreads: 53602464
Published: 2020-10-16T07:00:00+00:00

He directed me through another rundown neighborhood to another rundown house, leaving me in the idling car while he jogged toward the front door. When someone answered the door, I wonder why his little brother had called him instead of their parents.

A tiny shadow emerged, trudging down the drive alongside Bellamy.

Bellamy opened the door, ushering Arlo in and buckling him into the backseat while the kid stared at me, red eyes and wrinkled forehead. “Hey, Gas Station Lady.” He crossed his arms over his chest on a huff.

Bellamy closed the door, then climbed back into the front.

“He seems pissed,” I whispered as I reversed away from the shitty looking house.

“His friend pissed in the bed.” Bellamy scrubbed a hand over his face. “That’s why he called me crying like someone had tried to murder him. Cockblock...”

“What’s a cock block, Bubba?”

Bellamy face-palmed on a hard sigh. “It’s a…Jesus Christ...”

“It’s a kid who wets the bed?” I offered.

“Why?”

I frowned and looked at Bellamy, who was no help. He just smiled and waved a hand through the air like I was supposed to magically come up with an explanation. “Well...why is your name Arlo? It just is.” I turned onto the highway, driving past the swarm of cop cars at the 7-11.

“My name’s Arlo because my mom liked it.

“And I like cockblock.” I frowned. I’d literally just told a kid I liked cock block.

“Peehead sounds better than cock block,” Arlo mumbled. “Cock block sounds like something you’d call a rooster.” He huffed again. “I like peehead.”

The kid was exhausting. “Okay, let’s change it then. Peehead it is.”

We drove through another of Dayton’s rundown neighborhoods. I rapidly flipped through radio stations, trying to find something at one am on a Friday night that didn’t have lyrics involving hoes and bitches.

“I need to know one thing, Gas Station Lady.” Arlo blurted. “Are you gonna poop on my brother?”

Bellamy snorted, covering his mouth as he looked out the window.

I glanced in the rearview at the kid now scowling toward the front of the car. “Uh, no.”

“You promise?”

“Yeah. It’s not my thing.”

“Bubba, you said she was gonna poop on you!”

“Arlo...Just leave it alone.”

After a couple of minutes of awkward silence, I pulled up to Bellamy’s house. An old pickup that wasn’t there when we left was parked on the drive, and it was almost impossible to ignore the heavy breath Bellamy dragged in. “Go wait on the porch, okay?” he said, glancing over the headrest at Arlo. “Scooter’s out there.”

The kid unbuckled himself and hopped out of the car, darting through the dark yard to the side of the house.

“So,” I said, lifting a brow at Bellamy. “I’m going to poop on you?”

His chin tucked to his chest on a short laugh. “The kid has to hang around Hendrix… Don’t judge him.”

“Enough said.” I was still scarred from the turd picture he’d sent me.

He stared at me, his gaze dropping to my lips, and I thought, for a minute, he was going to kiss me again, but the front porch light cut on and his hand shot to the door.

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