Pregnant with the Bad Boy

Chapter 4

Oh god.... I woke up whining; the pain was killing me, and I wasn't sure what was going on; opening my eyes slowly and saw a large stain in the ceiling above me. Wait, this wasn't my room on campus or my girl's room back at the homestead?

Dylan.

I sat up too fast, my eyes searching for the guy who had brought me here, held me when I slept, and stroked my hair, not knowing how fast he was making me want him.

My left arm was still in the sling from the hospital; sighing from the discomfort, I moved it around some more, trying not to start wailing over that I was here inside his bed, but he was gone; maybe he did get sick of me after all, just waiting for me to pick up my stuff and leave?

My legs felt like jelly, getting them over the edge of the bed, whining, feeling more lost than ever; why would he leave me here alone when he was the one who had brought me here?

I whined from the pain again, not caring after five minutes, calling him once and regretting it just as fast. Dylan wasn't home, and I wasn't going to stick around anymore, no matter how much he made me want to lose my virginity inside this shitty place.

My eyes were already on the door that I knew was leading out, away from Dylan Hopper.... my chest hurt, limping ahead, seeing the brightly colored note stuck on it, frowning when I came closer, mumbling along the sharp letters, telling me that Dylan was working.

Working.

My head hurt more. Didn't he just do that at the stable where I had met him? My eyes followed more of his way of spelling out that he was down a bar on Main Street.

I knew the place, not that I was ever allowed to set foot since I wasn't twenty-one yet, and even then... my parents had enough problems retaining Mandy to make me even want to spend time where you got drunk; I was perfectly happy studying alone in my room back in my teens.

"Stay here...." I snorted, seeing the last line, with three hard strokes underneath it; what did he think I was, a lost puppy? I was still angry that he stopped us last night when it was getting good... I crumpled the note, tossing it on the floor like everything else around this place.

I had opened the front door, expecting... yeah, well, sunlight, only to freeze up from the evening already over the city. I didn't really believe my eyes staring out. How long had I been sleeping anyway!? I turned, trying to find anything telling the time. I walked back and saw Dylan's worn-down kitchen; an older clock radio showed me eight AM. What?!

Fuck!

I got closer, my arm still in the sling, and looking out the small window, I saw the street below with just some people strolling. Still, you could hear the life coming from the main street, where everyone seemed to be going tonight.

Mom was going to kill me, whatever chance I ever had of getting out of this unscratched, me crashing my car and getting help from Dylan... I closed my eyes, so sick of explaining myself to everyone! I felt safe around him, but Mom wouldn't get that, and she wasn't the only one; Mandy looked like she wanted to kill me for even speaking to him at the stables.

My eyes were still closed, my head still hurting, and the only thing coming up inside my thoughts was that I wanted to find him, Dylan.

Laughter from the street made me look up again, seeing the women dressed up. I looked down at my borrowed hospital outfit and sighed. I would need more than this to get me inside the door if I wanted to find Dylan. It was bad enough that I no longer had a phone and couldn't just call him!

My stomach twisted around from how sick I was feeling; running back to the bathroom before throwing up, hating my life and crying, flushing and getting up, seeing myself in the small mirror, hollow eyes with dark rings meeting mine back, blowing out air and pushing back my dark hair, hating everything about myself. Everything.

The shower was cold when I stepped inside, still with my arm locked in the sling. I cursed, turned the water back to lukewarm, and wondered why Dylan had left his shower like this. He knew that I would be here, right?

I got out of the small bathroom, taking off the sling around my arm, still naked. I stood lost again, staring at the bed, blinking when my mind came back blank. I knew somewhere I had to get dressed, but really, what choices did I have? Dylan's shirts or the ugly sweats still on the floor before me? My nose scrounged, and I dropped the towel, pulled out one of the drawers, and found just boxers and socks.

I sighed, sitting on the bed, staring into the air, knowing that whatever stupid plan was inside my head wouldn't work, not when most of Dylan's stuff was on the floor. The rest was just... no, made for me... My eyes searched the room, locking onto something red on top of a lampshade in the corner. I got up and walked over slowly, my eyes narrowing, pulling off slowly from the light and illuminating the room around me.

My eyes stared at the stretchy red dress, holding it for what seemed to be forever, hating that I was jealous again; this wasn't his, and from the looks of it, the dress was short and made for one thing, attracting attention.

I wanted to throw up again, my breaths becoming shorter and grip tightening around the cheap lycra, hating that I was going to cry again, and over what? I knew who Dylan was, a womanizer who could have any girl he wanted, anyone, and still, I was here, even going out to look for him.

The first tears spilled over when my eyes closed, opening just to sniffle, a linger of perfume from some other girl that had been here, inside this place, before me, and maybe he told her the same thing? I tossed it on the bed, going for the hospital clothes, crying harder; what was wrong with me?

I just wanted to see him, having him back here and holding me. Was that too clingy? My red eyes met the small mirror, full-sized bottles of lounge around the messy drawer to the side; I was still naked.

I took a deep breath, retaking the dress, pulling it on, not caring that it was just barely covering my butt or boobs without underwear, this was the kind of girl that Dylan liked, and I wanted him.

I was painting my eyes carefully, not really used to the stroking of mascara that I had found lying on top of a cabin, not caring that I was picking apart his stuff. Did it matter? Maybe the next girl needed this, and I was out the door.

The mirror made me stare again. I looked nothing like myself: hard eyes with too much mascara, red lip gloss, and dark hair falling down too long over my body. I usually wore it up, but tonight, I wanted Dylan to see me and wanted me so badly that he could say no, not again.

The air was hot when I closed the front door, not caring about locking it. Walking down the aisle of doors, my eyes were still wild from feeling the short dress and wearing my sneakers. It couldn't be helped since it was all I had.

Main Street was crowded, making me walk faster, hearing some guys shout after me, regretting that I ever walked out, this was still Perryville, and I looked like a w***e; what if someone saw me? Mom would kill me for dressing like this.

My heart was still racing. The people around me were too close, and I wasn't used to this. My scared eyes roamed around the street, hearing the men coming closer. What did they want from me?! I stopped, turned around, and saw them looking at me like I had never seen before. It was raw hunger and scaring me so much that I couldn't move!

"hey, hey.... look at you... are you alone, baby? What are you doing out here all on your own?" I didn't answer, hearing the snickers around the guys; they were four, and I was alone. My eyes were on the ground, and hearing the loud heartbeat in my head taking over, drowning out the voices that were taunting me, someone touching my shoulder when I flinched, still too terrified to scream, closing my eyes and staring to cry. Why didn't they just leave me alone? I didn't do anything!

"There you are. I'm sorry for taking so long, Cherie; my car didn't arrive on time, but I'm here now..." I was sniffling, and a darker voice made me look up when the guys around me stared like they couldn't believe the well-dressed man who had come up, taking his arm around me and giving the drunks a bright smile like he wasn't scared to death as I was, regretting that I ever had stepped my foot outside!

"She's with you, man?" I looked up, seeing the handsome man nodding and pulling me closer, and I wasn't fighting back. He smelled great, his blue shirt tucked inside of slacks and belt, and I leaned closer, not wanting anything with the drunks who were giving me a weird stare like they really didn't believe that I belonged with the elegant man, who looked just as out of place as I did on the street where most people wore boots and jeans.

"yes, that is correct; I ran late waiting for my car, getting to my date... and oh look at that, we have reservations to make..." I couldn't believe it, seeing the strange man just beam, still holding me firmly around my waist, turning us around, not caring that he was flashing a wristwatch he could get killed over in the wrong parts, staring to walk with me further away from the disgusting drunks.

He stopped us outside the bar and looked at me with kind brown eyes that made me feel better, knowing I was sniffling again and probably had ruined his fancy shirt. Looking up and trying to smile back, he seemed nice. I knew he had helped me, and I didn't even know how to say thank you.

"Are you going to make it, Cherie? You want me to call you a car and get you back home?" I shook my head, still not saying a word, just staring at the man who was rubbing my arm gently, like he wanted to comfort me more than anything to my stunned face. He wasn't anything like the men around here, making me more confused seeing the dark hair and well-meaning eyes. He really wanted to help, didn't he?

"Okay... just.... don't walk home alone, that dress is.... tempting..." his eyes were over my body, just for a second when my cheeks flared up, knowing he was right, yes. I wasn't going back home, not if I had anything to say about it.

He was just about to walk off, going away from me when I got scared again. I needed to get inside this bar, and I needed Dylan. Was it rude of me to ask him to help me again? People seemed to respect him, walking past us and giving me the feeling of thinking he was too good for the w***e in the cheap lycra dress before him.

"Wait..." I didn't know how he could hear me since my voice was non-existent. He turned on the spot where I was still standing, watching him go down the street, walking away from me and my problems.

"yes?" His voice was straightforward, as if he were just waiting for me to call him, making me feel worse. Was I really that predictable? My eyes met his, giving me another smile that made me like him more. He was handsome, no doubt, groomed, but he wasn't Dylan, who was still on the inside, not knowing that I was here, searching for him.

"could you... I don't know. Can you help me?" I nodded against the bar, having my arms crossed, not really knowing what I was doing; I wasn't stupid, but this wasn't a part of my usual life, going around dressed like this, trying to get into bars.

"Oh.... oh, Cherie, I don't think you need my help; a beautiful girl like you can get what she wants..." I blinked, hearing the man chuckle at my frown. What did he mean by that? Was he mocking me? I let my arms go, getting more upset. Maybe he wasn't the nice man I believed he was when he saved me.

"Wait, you are beautiful, you know that, don't you?" I didn't believe him, my eyes narrowing, hating that he looked stunned, like he couldn't believe me glaring back angrily, breaking out into another laughter that sounded friendly, before giving me a charming smile, coming closer.

"I'm Grant, and you are?" I gulped, seeing his eyes on mine, and I didn't hate it. It didn't feel like he was pushing me to talk; I just wanted to know my name.... oh god... I still did not like everyone around us, which made me more nervous than when I was already talking to a handsome man.

"Jennifer..." I choked it out, his smile becoming more significant. He nodded like he had heard me, making me relax more. So, could he help me get inside, or did he just want to make small talk?

"A lovely name for a beautiful girl..." I snorted, giving him a smile, maybe the first one since he helped me. He chuckled when my eyes left his kind face, seeing the queue again, and my heart clenched; I wanted to get inside, no matter how friendly he was. I needed Dylan more than I wanted to admit to anyone, the least of all him.

"Okay, let's go inside, and you can maybe tell me why?" I smiled; sure, I could tell him; he didn't seem to judge me, not like everyone else did.