Good Guys Don't Date Bad Boys (BL, 18+)

Chapter One – Insta-hate

A new beginning. It was, after all, what he wanted after all that wallowing in self-deprecation, and it had to be here, at Sunny Hill, away from all the drama. Jonathan sighed as he arranged his toiletries in an orderly fashion on the bathroom shelf. He was more than thankful for the small suite designed to accommodate him and another student, which was a far cry from the dorm doubles and communal bathrooms that were the norm.

Not that before coming here, he had lived in such a place. Before, he had been someone, but like for any other 'someone' having to atone for past mistakes, getting down from his high horse and accepting to share living space with another human being were part of the deal.

He frowned as he pushed the toothbrush stand to align perfectly with his shaving cream. "Get used to it," he addressed his mirror reflection.

Indulging in more self-pity over his current situation was cut short by the front door opening and closing. It could only be his roommate, and while Jonathan would rather go through nail-pulling medieval tortures than face the nightmare that this person had to be, given his luck of late, he needed to face the music sooner rather than later.

He walked out of the bathroom, all the while trying hard to school his face into a neutral expression. Silently, he prayed that his partner wasn't some jock, but since those usually shared their notoriously loud fraternity houses, the chances were slim.

Talking about small mercies. Jonathan's eyes fell on a young man, or better said, on a giant backpack that practically obscured its owner almost entirely from view. Not a jock, obviously. His roommate appeared to be small-framed.

He cleared his throat discreetly, which prompted the stranger, who must not have heard him moving about, to turn abruptly and lose his balance. For a moment or two, his arms flailed comically. Fortunately for him, the bed was right behind him, so he landed on a soft spot.

Jonathan hurried to help the hapless young man. "Oh, I'm so terribly sorry. I didn't mean to startle you. Are you all right?"

He offered him a hand, and the stranger took it. A large grin lit up his face. He was nerdy, but in a cute way, Jonathan noticed right away and proceeded to chastise himself inwardly for judging a person by his looks. However, he couldn't deny that his roommate didn't look at all like he could pose a threat. Bright brown eyes twinkled at him from under a mop of chestnut hair.

"Uber fine," the young man replied. "Do you think you could help me get out of this?" He pointed at his huge backpack.

"Of course." Jonathan hurried to unbuckle the monstrous thing and aid his roommate out of his predicament.

Finally released from his contraption, the guy pushed back the strands hanging over his eyes and offered his hand. "I'm Ray."

Jonathan shook his hand curtly. "Glad to meet you, Ray. I'm Jonathan. Jonathan Hamilton."

"Oh, we're doing full names." Ray beamed at him. "Ray Franklin."

Jonathan could barely keep from smiling back. And he had promised himself that he would be more guarded regarding new acquaintances. It was because of his lack of awareness that he had landed in this situation, being forced to change schools before the junior year.

Another promise he had made to himself was to make sure there was no room for any misunderstandings. "I don't want to sound too forward," he began quickly, to avoid any stalling rooted in his lack of trust in humanity in general, "but I need to let you know something from the start."

Ray was dressed in a striped shirt and kakis that both seemed a bit too large for his frame. He shifted his weight from one foot to another. Therefore, he looked fairly harmless. "Sure."

Jonathan took one deep breath. "I'm gay. I hope that's not going to be a problem, but if it is, I believe --"

"No problem." Ray stopped him right away and shot another dazzling smile at him. He leaned toward Jonathan and threw him a conspiratorial look. "To tell you the truth, I only last year came out as straight, so." He let the words hanging and wiggled his eyebrows.

Jonathan's lips twitched in amusement. As miserable as he had felt only minutes ago, it seemed as if Ray had just walked through the door with the last remnants of the summer sun.

"Ah, so do I gather that a lot of people simply assume that you're gay?" he asked.

Ray let out a heartfelt sigh and rolled his eyes. "You wouldn't believe it. You can imagine what it does to my dating game. Girls only want me to be their gay-best-friend-for-now."

"I had no idea that was a thing."

"Apparently, yes. Trust me, I accidentally became well-versed in everything gay because of all those misunderstandings. I even watched reruns of Queer as Folk with attempted girlfriend number three."

"That must have been quite the experience," Jonathan said, not really knowing how to offer comfort for something like that.

Ray grinned. "Yeah. By season four, she still hadn't realized I was actually into her."

"What happened by season five, then?"

"She thought she must have corrupted me somehow and confessed that she didn't want to turn me straight. At that point, I almost wanted to go along with it and tell her that she was the best conversion therapy ever so she should assume responsibility."

"But you didn't."

"No. I told her the truth. She was really surprised. And we remained friends. Sort of. Let's just say that I had to finish watching season five by myself."

Jonathan could feel his cheeks hurting from grinning too much. Whatever Ray had, it was highly infectious. Two minutes the guy was in, and he had made him forget all his worries.

"Well, Ray, I promise I'm not going to torture you with gay-themed shows from fifteen years ago."

Ray plunked on the bed. "No worries. I actually enjoyed it. But man, this year, I really need to get my dating game in shape. I just transferred here, and I hope that girls will see more in me than just a gay--"

"—best-friend-for-now," Jonathan completed the sentence. A slow frown made its way up to his forehead. "Then I suppose you won't want to hang around with me much." He hadn't wanted to be so blunt, but directness was just one of those curses he couldn't shake off if they were the death of him.

"Nonsense!" Ray bounced on his bed, checking the springs. "That's one more reason to hang out together, besides that you look like a swell guy, and I think we're going to get along just fine."

Jonathan had no idea what to say. It was challenging to fight against the warm feeling spreading through his chest. "I do?" he asked hesitantly. "Look like a swell guy, I mean."

Ray nodded enthusiastically. "You totally do. And you'll be the perfect wingman. Here is what we're going to do. Girls will surely want to know about you because you're so handsome. They will approach me," he pointed at himself, "because they will think I can help them get with you. And then," he made a convincing circle through the air with his index finger, "we will drop the bomb on them."

"The bomb?" Jonathan asked, slightly confused.

"Yes. We will tell them that one of us is gay, and the other is straight, and have them guess. The loser has to go out with me. Score!" He threw one victorious punch in the air.

"That's quite the plan," Jonathan agreed. "So, you're saying that I'm not looking gay?" He was genuinely interested in the answer.

Ray gave him a long and thoughtful once-over. "You do have perfect fashion sense, in a preppy way. But that's like the only gay thing I can say about you. And when I say gay, I mean fabulous. I suppose people don't think broad-shouldered, tall, and handsome guys like you are necessarily gay. But," he pointed again at himself, "lanky, awkward, and nerdy, somehow equals gay in their book."

"I don't think you've met enough people just yet," Jonathan offered a smidge of comfort. "Thank you for considering me handsome. If it's any consolation, you don't look gay to me. Although it does worry me a little that I don't look gay to you. I'd rather not have people make wrong assumptions."

"I don't label people," Ray said with another big smile. "So, now that you told your bestie your biggest secret, what's your dating game?"

Bestie? Jonathan couldn't remember when that had been established, but since Ray seemed so incredibly happy with the prospect, he couldn't reject him outright. "I just transferred, like you, so I haven't yet thought of it." Not entirely true, but he could unveil his plans later to his nosy roommate if, indeed, they got along well.

"Cool. At least that means that I won't be the only odd man out. We'll be the new guys. Maybe even start a band. The New Guys." Ray made a semi-circle with a sweep of the hand as if he could already see that name up in lights.

"Unfortunately, I'm not in the least adept at playing a musical instrument, and if you heard me sing, you would wish you just developed enough earwax to block the horrendous sounds leaving my throat."

Ray laughed whole-heartedly. "That makes two of us. Anyway, do you have a boyfriend?"

Jonathan shook his head quickly. "No."

Ray clapped in glee. "That's great. We will look together for love this year. I mean, if you're into love. If you're into hookups --"

Jonathan shook his head. Hookup was a dreaded word and forever would be in his dictionary. "No, not at all."

One hookup gone bad had been enough to destroy his reputation and life as he had known it up to that point. His parents didn't need another shock of that proportion. Only thinking of it made Jonathan feel his cheeks on fire.

"Ah, I dream of a nice girl who won't mind getting my V card," Ray said with an exaggerated sigh.

"V card?" Jonathan asked. Did people talk like that?

Ray offered him a sympathetic look. "Too much info? I'm afraid your bestie is not the kind to keep secrets. Also, it's great that we have two bedrooms. You will hate me soon enough for my sloppy ways."

Jonathan smiled. "How bad can it be?"

Ray patted his huge backpack. "My entirely life is in here. And not in a particular order if you catch my drift."

"I see. I'll let you unpack. I placed my toiletries on the left part of the shelf in the bathroom, but if you prefer it, I can move them."

Ray waved. "Don't worry. Hey, Jonathan," he called after him as he started to walk away. "We'll have a great junior year. It's a promise."

Jonathan smiled at his roommate again. At least, that was out of the way. Of course, he would have to curb Ray's enthusiasm regarding having some common dating game. Unlike before, when he had made the mistake of thinking with what lay right under his belt, this time, if the opportunity arose, he would go for the safe option.

Which meant, of course, someone who was out and proud and not asking for oral sex on the down-low while pretending to be heterosexual in all the other dealings of his life. Yes, Jonathan had had enough of that to last him three lifetimes, not one.

***

"As the new kids," Ray started the moment they were seated at a table in the dining hall that seemed to be packed at lunch hour, "we need to learn who's who and fast."

"Do you intend to be popular?" Jonathan questioned while he eyed the fries on his plate with a dubious look. They looked greasy and unpalatable, but together with the salad he had chosen, they could be considered a meal. Not a decent meal, mind you, but still.

"Hey, it's all about knowing who's worth knowing, right?" Ray said with a shrug. Unlike Jonathan, he was biting from his hamburger like he hadn't had a proper meal in weeks. "The thing is popular students are the gateway to, you know, meeting others."

"Do you want to hang out with the popular girls?" Jonathan teased. "Come on, Ray, that's superficial. And I thought you were looking for true love."

"Yeah, but it might take me a few tries to get there. Anywho, I did my research and --"

"Research? When did you have time for it? Only a few days ago, we were still unpacking." Jonathan looked at the dressing pack and decided to skip it. It was good that their small suite had a kitchenette that could be used for some basic cooking.

"Sunny Hill Xpress," Ray said with satisfaction.

"What's that?"

"A very interesting digital publication that documents who's who here, at Sunny Hill. It even has pictures and stuff."

"Like Facebook?"

"Better." Ray was barely waiting to share the fruits of his research with Jonathan. "This website lets you in the latest gossip, down to the juiciest details. Whoever is behind it, I'm telling you, they're not mincing words."

"So it's a tabloid," Jonathan said. He felt a growing unease at the thought. A look around half-convinced him that wannabe paparazzi weren't present. His shoulders relaxed an inch. One thing he had to do was to convince himself that finally, here, at Sunny Hill, Jonathan Hamilton was nobody, and he had every intention to remain so. "Don't believe everything it says in there."

"Hey, it was really educational, and why are we here, at these esteemed halls of learning if not to get an education?"

Jonathan doubted he could argue with Ray on any topic. "I suppose," he admitted with a slight shrug.

"Come on, JJ, don't you want to know who's gay, single, and out and proud on top of everything?"

In a moment of weakness, or just because Ray had insisted like a cat smelling catnip, he had admitted to his dating game being precisely that. While he had every intention to settle this time for something serious, Jonathan didn't want to jump into it just yet.

"So, who's the most important kid around here? Or kids?" he asked, wanting Ray and his matchmaking aspirations to steer clear of that topic.

"Gosh, JJ, you talk like you're eighty," Ray replied with a wave of the hand.

Another thing he had no idea of was when he had become a JJ. There was just something about Ray that made him accept everything the guy was throwing at him. All that talking about them becoming besties no longer seemed so far-fetched.

"Look," Ray began and turned in his seat to point at a table several feet away from them.

The first thing Jonathan noticed was a red football jersey stretching on a back so large that a few stadiums had to be needed to accommodate such a presence. The student was standing, masking the view to his table, but the others were so rowdy that they were hard to miss. People walking by stopped to talk to them, high-fiving and doing all the inane things popular kids did.

The giant found his way to sit finally, so Ray continued. "That's Dexter Solomon, Dex as his friends call him. He plays football, and rumor has it that he can drink an entire keg by himself. According to Xpress, he has done it at least once."

"What a cliche," Jonathan murmured.

"The brunet by his right," Ray said, unfazed by his commentary, "is Kane Dubois. His dad attended Sunny Hill in his time and is now a big shot in the big pharma industry. He's someone good to know."

Ray wasn't off the mark with that. As chemistry majors, going into the pharmaceutical business was an option to consider. Jonathan examined Kane briefly. He looked athletic, as well, not as big as Dex but impressive in his own right. As he had expected, Ray was drawn like a moth to a flame to the jock club, or one of the many.

"Kane plays lacrosse," Ray added. "And that's Rusty Parker."

Jonathan examined the attractive blond with the dog-like name, who stood up and landed a perfect shot using a crumpled napkin turned into a ball to send through the improvised hoop offered by the linked arms of an equally attractive female student who screeched in delight. Ray didn't need to tell him what sport he was into. What a tedious display.

Of course, they were also the kind to score, Jonathan thought and shook his head. His eyes drifted, and then he noticed that there was someone else at the table. Unlike his companions that seemed as rambunctious as kids functioning on a megaton of candy, this one lounged in his seat, one arm wrapped lazily around the back of his buddy's seat, and one long denim-clad leg stretched outside the table, right into the walking path of other pedestrians.

Jonathan's eyes narrowed as he noticed the student's other hand fiddling with some white stick stuck into his mouth. Was that a cigarette? Really?

No, it was a lollipop, Jonathan realized. And perfect lips were wrapping around it with lustful abandon.

Lustful abandon? He needed to have his head checked. The guy was just enjoying his lollipop. Unnerved by where his thoughts were taking him so early in the day, Jonathan continued to examine the student. Rebellious ink-black hair covered his eyes, but a chiseled jawline and a tanned complexion were visible from that distance even. There was something playful and mischievous in how he rolled the candy in his mouth, only to retract it now and then to exchange a joke with his friends. And in his moves, something languid and predatory lurked, a proof of the devil-may-care attitude that appeared to define this particular character.

Apparently, he was much in a lyrical disposition today, so Jonathan decided not to fight it. Nothing could go wrong if he only looked at that perfect specimen of the male variety. He kept in a small snort at the sight of the rolled-up t-shirt sleeves. So the perfect specimen was kind of a douche, no wonder there. Not that his impressive biceps weren't worth showing, or his perfect pectorals, clearly visible through the white t-shirt so glued to him that it looked more like a second skin and less an article of clothing.

There was a place and time for everything, including showing off one's assets, but lunch in the college dining hall wasn't one of them.

"Who's that?" Jonathan asked, suddenly aware that he had tuned out Ray's chatter while lost in admiring that student.

"That's Maddox Kingsley," Ray replied, excited that finally, Jonathan seemed interested in something he knew. "Or Mad Dawg, as people call him."

"Mad Dog?"

"No, no, no," Ray said with self-importance. "Say it with me. Mad Dawg." He drawled the words like an extra in a gangster movie.

"As you say," Jonathan replied. "What sports is he into? He hangs out with other jocks, so--"

"He's not actually a jock. What he is into," Ray leaned over the table and dropped his voice, "is actually illegal fights."

"I call bullocks on that."

"Call whatever you want. But he's wild, dangerous, and all the girls want him."

"Can't say that I'm surprised."

Ray didn't seem to catch on to the sarcasm in his voice. "The point is, he's the best, the ultimate, the BMOC."

"Do you mind using plain English?"

"The big man on campus," Ray said in a tone that was suggesting that Jonathan had just crawled from under a rock. "We need to become friends with him."

"No, we don't," Jonathan retorted.

"Why?" Ray eyed him with suspicion.

Because Maddox, Mad Dawg, or whatever his moniker, was a nightmare dressed in a tight t-shirt that left nothing to the imagination regarding the perfect anatomy of his upper body. If he were to take after the long leg stretched as an obstacle for the other students happening by was any indication, the lower part had to be just as well built. Jonathan had no intention to go down the same road again even if the guy were interested, which was out of the question since the mentioning of girls throwing themselves at him had made that aspect painfully clear.

"Because such guys would never hang out with us," Jonathan attempted to let Ray down gently.

"Why?" Ray asked again.

"Because we're good guys. They," Jonathan pointed at the rowdy group, "are the bad boys. Oil and water. We don't mix, okay? And I bet he's peddling drugs or something. Just look how many people stop by. What could they want?"

Ray didn't seem wholly convinced. "Xpress didn't confirm the rumors on the drugs thing. Hey, I think I want another soda."

So there was a drugs thing, not that Jonathan would believe everything some obscure tabloid was saying. But anything he could tell himself to stop drooling over a straight bad boy was worth taking into consideration.

"I'll go," Jonathan offered. He didn't need another soda; he would have plain water if they had such a thing.

***

"Man, it's good to be back, right?" Dex stretched and yawned, making a display of his body and drawing the attention of at least half the female population present.

Maddox snorted. "What's with you? Didn't you get your beauty sleep?"

"I partied with my buddies back home until late. Then I drove here."

That was Dex for you, of course. Party animal down to the last bone in his body.

"You're not going to start telling over the summer stories like we're in third grade, right?" Rusty intervened. "I'm more interested in the bountiful future, aka the fresh meat."

"Aren't you tired of hooking up with all the newbies?" Kane questioned.

Unlike the rest of them who played the field, Kane was the only one in a serious relationship. What was more admirable, he and his girlfriend didn't attend the same college, and they still made it work despite the distance. Maddox expected Kane to tie the knot and invite them to a big-ass wedding soon after senior year. But there was still time for them to party freely since junior year was just starting.

"Hey, they want me," Rusty said. "And I never say 'no' to a lady."

"Yeah, you're the perfect gentleman," Kane commented. "There are also a few fresh off the boat transfers. Are you interested in them, too?"

"To our year? Yeah, I'm interested, as long as they're hot," Rusty replied.

Maddox let his eyes travel over the packed cafeteria in search, just as Rusty, of new faces. Or better said, new butts, since he was known far and wide as a total ass man. Just as he was eyeing a petite brunette packed in all the right places, something else entered his line of vision. Or better said, someone, a guy standing in line. It had to be one of the transfer students Kane was talking about because nothing in the way he carried himself said he was a freshman. Maddox examined the stranger's profile with interest. He was dressed in sandy chinos and a light pink polo shirt. The clothes looked great on him, like they had been tailored, not bought off the rack. Complete with the oxfords on his feet, his outfit screamed conservative and old money. When the guy put his hands into his pockets, the chinos stretched over a fine piece of tail. Even as a straight guy, Maddox couldn't help but notice when dudes had nice asses. This one topped many, tight and perky, and filling up those pants just about right.

The next thing Maddox noticed was that the guy was tall. Maddox didn't consider himself short at his six point two, but this guy looked a bit taller than that. Among the other students, he was easy to spot. Maybe it was because of his impeccable clothes or his impeccable hairdo. His wavy light brown hair was styled in a preppy side-part, and he looked like someone who went through great pains to look that perfect. As he turned his head, Maddox also had the chance to examine a classic profile with a straight nose and high cheekbones. His face would have been considered a bit too harsh, but it was well balanced by a sensual mouth. Not that Maddox usually thought of guys in terms like that, but this one was a stunner, like movie star level. A movie star from the 1950s, mind you, but one nonetheless.

"Who's that?" He pointed with his lollipop at the guy.

"Who? The petite brunette? I call dibs, bro," Rusty said promptly.

"Why would you call dibs so early in the day? I barely woke up," Maddox protested. "I didn't mean her. Him." He pointed again.

"Wow, who's Mr. President-in-the-making?" Rusty said.

"Must be one of the transfer students," Kane piped in. "Dude's a looker. You guys should watch out, or the girls might forget entirely about you and line up for him."

Rusty snorted. "Yeah, like who's into this preppy look nowadays? I bet he's boring like hell. Girls won't make any sort of line for him, don't worry, unless they want to hook up with a grandpa."

"Someone's jealous already," Kane said with a chuckle.

Rusty ran one hand through his tousled hair, suddenly aware of how he might look compared to the guy they were gossiping about. "Me? Jealous? Nah, no way. Well, if he dares to be more popular than me with the ladies, I'll challenge him to a duel or some shit."

"Like a rap battle?" Kane asked.

"No, I'll just have him play ball against me. We'll see then who's the tough guy."

"Dude's pretty tall. What if he beats you with your own weapons?" Kane raised a philosophical question right away. "Then he'll really get all the girls and humiliate you in the process, too."

"I wouldn't worry if I were you," Dex finally intervened in the conversation. Their giant friend got any girl he wanted without even trying, and that made him pretty chill. Rusty was the one with a bone to pick all the time, and Maddox simply didn't care. If a chick digged any of his friends, he was hands-off.

Still, Dex's comment made him curious. "Why shouldn't we worry? Dude's got class," he said. "Chicks dig that."

"Yeah, but he's gay," Dex said matter-of-factly.

"What?" Rusty exclaimed, a bit too loud. "Guys, just explain to me how this red-blooded, 100% straight mofo, can tell such a thing just by looking at a dude."

"It may be that his folks passed the gaydar on to him," Kane said promptly. "Like a family heirloom."

That kind of banter was totally allowed in their tight-knit group. Dex had two awesome dads who had raised him since they had adopted him at the age of five. Although young enough not to recall in too great detail the pain of having been abandoned by his biological parents, Dex had a few scars of his own, which Maddox understood and respected. He also knew that Dex adored his dads, and they were his number one fans, too.

"No way he's gay," Rusty insisted, while Maddox now stared at the guy's perfect ass with renewed interest. With an ass like that, he had to be a bottom, even if, otherwise, there was something domineering and even slightly intimidating in how he kept himself. It had to be because of his height, or broad shoulders, or something like that. At least vers or else having that kind of ass was an injustice to all. "Dex, you gotta tell us how you know."

Dex pointed with his soda can. "Do you see the petite brunette you've all been calling dibs on? For the last five minutes, while you kept flapping your traps, she's been trying to get his attention. All she got from him were a few words. Not once has the dude checked out her rack. And I mean, look at that rack. He only looked at her face while talking."

"So maybe he's not into boobs," Rusty protested. "Or like Kane, already got his ball and chain."

"Shut up, dude. I have a girlfriend, not a life sentence. And I can tell that girl is pretty. Quite curvaceous and filled up in all the right places," Kane added. "It's not like I'm blind."

Dex shrugged. "You guys don't have to believe me. But dude's also got ass. My educated guess is that he's into dudes, and I stand by it."

So Maddox wasn't the only one to notice the guy's perfect behind.

Rusty angled his head and took a long, thoughtful look at the new student. "If I were gay, I'd totally hit that."

"You'd hit on a grandma while helping her cross the street," Kane shot at him, probably still salty over Rusty's teasing from earlier.

"Yeah, if I were into old people. But I'm not," Rusty replied, utterly unfazed by Kane's remark. "I was just saying if I were gay. Come on, now that I know that he's not into chicks, I can confirm that he's like a gay guy's wet dream with all that junk inside his trunk."

"You're all a bunch of pervs, commenting on a guy's ass like that," Dex said with a large grin. "Seeing how none of you is gay."

Rusty bristled at that. "Hey, you brought it up. But do we have a name for Mr. Presidential Candidate slash Perfect Ass?"

Maddox surprised them by getting to his feet. "I'll go and find out."

He didn't wait for the others to comment on his sudden decision. After all, he was easygoing and always made friends the fastest of them all. Finding the new student's name was a piece of cake. Why he was so interested in finding it out, he couldn't say.

"Hey, do you think you could let me cut in line? My friends are really thirsty and impatient like three-year-olds," he asked the petite brunette who flashed a much-interested smile at him the moment he started talking.

"Sure," she replied and allowed him to step in front of her.

"Thanks, gorgeous," he replied and winked at her.

She smiled and bit her lower lip and seemed about to say something, but he forgot all about her the moment he took a closer look at the guy—Yeap, definitely taller than him by an inch or so. Amber eyes stared at him for a moment and then started moving away, seemingly bored.

"Hey, it looks like you're new here. I'm Maddox." He offered his hand.

The amber eyes rested on him and the perfectly arched eyebrows above them knitted into a frown. "And I'm not interested."

Maddox remained unmoved for a second. Say what? "Interested in what?" he asked with a snort.

"Whatever it is you're selling." The guy had the nerve to look away from him. "A soda and a glass of water, please," he told the girl behind the register. "Tap water. Yes."

Maddox could feel his fingers itching for grabbing the guy by the front of his polo shirt and asking him what the hell his problem was. Instead, he settled for a low rumble under his breath.

The guy snapped at him. "Did you just growl at me?" The girl at the register handed him the soda and the glass of water. "What a jerk," he threw over his shoulder as he moved away.

"Stuck up prick," Maddox called after him, too dumbfounded for a smarter comeback than that.

The guy didn't even turn to look at him. Maddox shook his head in disbelief and stormed back to his table.

"Didn't you want something?" The girl who had let him cut in line shouted after him.

"Another time," Maddox replied quickly.

He plopped into his seat and let out a loud exhale.

"What the hell happened over there?" Kane asked.

"I officially hate that dude's guts, whoever he is," Maddox offered promptly. "He's an arrogant asshole," he added, as all his friends were staring at him, waiting for him to elaborate on that.

"So, you didn't get his name?" Rusty asked.

Maddox looked at him like he was growing another head.

"What about the girl's?" Rusty asked again, unfazed by his glare.

"What girl?" Maddox bristled with annoyance.

Rusty grinned. "Totally calling dibs, man."

Maddox stuffed the lollipop back into his mouth. His day was fucking ruined. Amber eyes slash sexy ass could go fuck himself.

***

"O.M.G. Did Maddox just talk to you?"

Jonathan placed the soda can in front of Ray while congratulating himself for having a steady hand despite the knots in his stomach. The guy had to have gorgeous gray eyes fringed by dark eyelashes and a smile that could make panties drop at a moment's notice. Could he be more ridiculously attractive? On top of everything, he had just needed to sneak up on him like that, taking him completely by surprise.

"No, not really," he replied stiffly.

"Come on, I saw it," Ray insisted. "He wanted to introduce himself, right?"

"He basically growled at me. No wonder people call him a mad dog."

"Mad Dawg," Ray said.

"Whatever."

"What happened? That was a pretty intense moment there."

"I, well, I thought he was trying to push some drugs on me. I might have said something to that extent," Jonathan settled for the truth.

"O.M.G., why did you say that? I told you the rumors weren't confirmed."

Jonathan shook his head. What was he getting so worked up about? "It was a knee jerk reaction, what can I say? The guy looks like a drug dealer. And he growled at me," he added. "I'm sorry, Ray, but I don't think we're going to hang out anytime soon with Mad Dawg," he emphasized the moniker, "and his merry men."

"What of him makes you think of a drug dealer?" Ray asked, still flabbergasted, apparently, over what had happened. "Man, that moment looked like insta-hate from here," he concluded. "But it doesn't matter. I'd rather just hang out with you, anyway."

"Insta-hate? I'd say that's a bit too much," Jonathan said.

"Nope. I think you got yourself an enemy." Ray made a small move with his chin in Maddox's direction.

Jonathan risked a glance. Yeah, the guy looked very much pissed, munching on his lollipop, a deep frown etched between his eyebrows. And he stared at him, with murder written all over his handsome face.

The only thing to do was groan in exasperation. While he didn't need to be friends with a mad dog, the idea to have made an enemy so quickly was annoying, to say the least.

TBC