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  Jenna Brooks's POV

  Conrad's expression was unreadable as he glared at me. I sprinted off the shelf, feeling a mix of embarrassment and shock. What would he think of me now? That the girl who had spent barely two weeks in the school was already making out with guys in the janitors closet?

"The driver's here, it's time to go," he said more casually than I had expected, then turned around to leave.

How could he be so indifferent about what he just saw? At that moment, I felt like a loser. The person I had been trying so hard to be perfect for, had just caught me making out with a guy I barely knew, in the JANITORS CLOSET of all places. And to top it off, his reaction was…nothing.

You fucked up, Jenna! Why couldn't you control yourself? Why did you have to melt into Liam's arms? He's not even that great of a guy besides his dreamy eyes, strong shoulders, muscles-you-only-get-to-touch-once-in-a-life-time, strikingly handsome face, full lips, golden brown Mohican hair, extremely chiseled jaw line, besides all that, there wasn't anything great about him. Forgot to add extremely nice and a great kisser.

Still, none of those traits could actually top what it was Conrad had. I cleared my throat, slowly regretting my actions.

"I guess I'll see you tomorrow?" Liam asked, throwing me that smile—the same one that got me into this mess.

Silly him, tomorrow's a weekend. But I didn't bother to look into his eyes or remind him of that fact. I just needed to salvage what was left of my dignity. I nodded slightly and walked out.

When I got to the car, everyone else was there except Conrad. I asked Jeanette where he was, and she replied that he had already left. What was he thinking? I took a deep breath and sank into my seat.

  ****************

  Uncle Finn, Auntie Laurel's husband had died two years ago. I had been shocked when mum told me about it. Then when I had asked her if we were going to Houston to pay our last respects, mum had insisted that Auntie Laurel didn't want to make a big deal out of it. 

Thinking about it now, why wouldn't someone want to make a big deal about their husband's death? But then again, Auntie Laurel was a strong woman who hated being pitied. Mum had told me she hardly invited people to the funeral because she didn't want to be pitied. She was already a widow, she's already plenty pitied. She didn't need people's sympathy on top of it.

I never really got to know much about uncle Finn when he was alive. Not really. I had met him a few times as a kid, but he was almost never around. Always on business trips for weeks. He had always seemed effusive and boisterous to me.

Now, Auntie Laurel was telling me that tomorrow was his two-year death memorial and she was planning a special rite or something like a family dinner.

"Can you go check on Conrad in his room? Just to be sure he's okay," Auntie Laurel asked me.

I smiled at her, and nodded. Conrad hadn't spoken to me since he caught me earlier today in the janitors closet and, I didn't feel like talking to him either. But I decided to put aside our awkward differences, for Auntie Laurel's sake.

I made my way up the stairs to his room and knocked twice but, there was no response. I slowly turned the door-knob and walked into the room. I had expected it to be messy and untidy like any other rebellious hot and handsome guy's room but it was excessively tidy. His bed was neatly made and everything else was in place. Except for the sweet staleness of cigarettes in the air. 

I stepped further into the room and noticed a framed picture of Conrad and me at Disneyland. I picked it up and examined it. Our smiling faces captioned in frozen time. Conrad's smile was bigger, because I had challenged him that he couldn't outdo mine. How I wished I could get this Conrad back.

"Can you put that down?" Conrad's voice interrupted my thoughts.

I turned to face him, our eye meeting. His face appeared pale and their was something in his gaze that I couldn't quite place my finger on.

He had a towel wrapped around his waist, indicating he had just finished taking a bath. This sight of him caught me off guard. His usually well-groomed hair was slightly tousled, with droplets of water trickling down his strong neck and into the defined lines of his chest. His toned arms glistened under the soft light, and his mischievous eyes held a spark I hadn't noticed before. 

In that moment, Conrad seemed different to me, more alluring, on another level of hot-bad- boy.

"Auntie Laurel asked me to check on you," I managed to say, trying but failing to avert my gaze. My eyes remained fixated on him. 

He smirked, "I'm fine. Can you leave now?"

"Conrad, I…"

"What, Jenna?"

I took a deep breath, I had initially thought ignoring the conversation was the best approach but, something inside me wanted to talk about it. Or, let's say I just wanted him to know that I was a good girl and that what he had witnessed earlier at school was a mistake on my part.

"What is it, Jenna?" He snapped again.

"What you saw…I mean…Liam and I are…um…it was…" I trailed off when I realized he had stopped listening. He was now drying his hair with a towel as if I wasn't even there.

"Conrad, I…" 

"Stop acting like a baby, Jenna. You two just kissed and made out. It's not like you had sex with him, did you?" He asked in a very, if not too causal tone. Leaning against the far wall, his strong arms were loosely crossed as he waited for my response.

The amount of casualness in his tone bothered me, as did the way his face lit up when he said the word 'sex'. Sure, I've had my fair share of kisses,  but sex just wasn't it. Besides, mum would kill me if I had sex before twenty five. I had always wanted to lose my virginity to someone I loved, someone who actually cared about me. Definitely not Sean who had no future ambitions. Or Liam who I hardly knew or Conrad who…

"Why would you even ask me that?" I asked, trying not to show how rattled I was.

He slowly walked to the edge of his bed and took a seat, never for once breaking eye contact. "I don't know, Jenna. You don't seem like the good girl you claim to be." 

"What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean, Jenna."

Why the fuck does he keep adding my name to every sentence he makes?!

"Sure, Conrad. Think whatever you want. I'm actually a virgin…"

I stopped abruptly when I realized it didn't sound as cool as it did in my head. Shit, Jenna! Why do you always embarrass yourself in front of him? 

Then Conrad sneered. The who-are-you-kidding-? kind of sneer that made my blood boil. I clenched my fists into small balls. Why did I care so much about what he thought of me? If he thinks I'm not a good girl, then maybe I'm not. My lips slowly curled into a smirk. This was going to be fun.

"Maybe I'm not a good girl, Conrad." I half whispered in my best dirty-talking voice, which landed somewhere between curious toddler and whiney tween but still seemed to work.

  I started to walk deliberately steps towards his bed, then sat down next to him, making sure to keep some space between us. He didn't seem moved at all. He just stared at me like I was some comedian. The dirty-talking voice mixed with curious toddler and whiney tween just wasn't cutting it, I needed to do more. 

I tucked my hair behind my ear and slowly looked up to meet his gaze, giving him the innocent puppy eyes—a classic seduction strategy. You're doing it Jenna. No I wasn't because he was still sitting beside me on the bed, staring at my theatrics. If all this didn't move him then what would? "Just give up, Jenna. You're not pretty enough to sway Conrad Declan." my annoying inner voice told me.

With a crushed resolve, I stood up but before I even realized it, he held my wrist and gently pulled me backwards. The world seemed to tilt as I fell back onto the soft mattress with him leaning over me, trapping me between his arms and body. 

As much as I wanted to resist and push him off, my body wouldn't listen to reasons. I could feel his heat; I could hear my heart hammering in my chest as I stared into his eyes. I could get lost in them forever and at this moment, I wish I could.

  "Conrad, what are you…" I paused and trailed off. 

His beautiful face lit up as his lips curled into a smirk—the signature bad boy smirk that a lot of guys found hard to pull off. How does he do it? He gripped my chin and lowered his lips to mine. My heart raced with a feeling I couldn't quite describe, mixed with fear. 

"You're not resisting Jenna," he whispered against my face.