One Nightstand with The Bad Boy

7- His Side

CLARK POV

My awakening was harsh, the intrusion of sunlight through parted curtains jolting me from sleep. Groaning, I attempted to shield my eyes from the unwelcome brightness. Who had dared to let the morning in like this? Blinking against the glare, I slowly took in my surroundings, my senses gradually sharpening as the events of the previous night flooded back, crashing over me like a relentless tide.

Turning to my side, I reached out, hoping to find her still nestled beside me. But the space was empty, devoid of her presence. Panic gripped me momentarily, until the throbbing ache in my head forcefully reminded me of the consequences of our revelry. Damn hangover.

Clutching my temples, I surveyed the room, the silence punctuated only by the faint rustle of fabric. She was gone. The remnants of her departure lay scattered across the floor – a silent testament to her absence. Why had she left without waking me?

It was an unfamiliar sensation, this feeling of abandonment. Typically, it was me who slipped away under the cover of darkness, leaving behind nothing but a whisper of my presence. But now, as the realization settled heavily upon me, my ego bristled at the blow her departure had dealt. She would pay for this transgression. What's mine... was mine alone, and she belonged to me now.

---

"Do we have any classes with Mia?" My question cut through the casual banter of my friends, redirecting the focus of our conversation. We lounged comfortably in my basement, our sanctuary before and after school.

The basement was our domain – a haven equipped with billiards in one corner, a flat-screen TV dominating the center for movie nights or gaming marathons, and a stash of our favorite titles, including Need for Speed, Counter-Strike, and NBA 2K16. Three bean bags lay scattered in front of the TV, offering a cozy spot for lounging, while a sprawling L-shaped couch provided ample seating at the back. A well-stocked minibar nestled in one corner, complete with a personal refrigerator brimming with snacks – a necessity for our perpetual hunger.

As Tofer and I engaged in a spirited game of billiards, Peter observed from the comfort of the couch. We hadn't yet made our way to school; it was our ritual to linger, savoring the leisurely pace of our mornings.

Peter's question cut through the air like a knife, his gaze piercing as he awaited my response. Why the sudden interest in Mia? His inquiry lingered, stirring something within me – a tangle of conflicting emotions that I struggled to unravel.

I shrugged nonchalantly, a mask of indifference slipping into place. "Just curious," I muttered, deflecting his probing gaze. But beneath the surface, a simmering anger bubbled, fueled by the memory of her abrupt departure.

Tofer's exclamation broke the tense silence, his congratulatory pat on my shoulder grating against my fraying patience. "Yeah, lucky you," he remarked, oblivious to the storm brewing beneath my composed exterior. But his words stung, igniting a spark of possessiveness that smoldered within me, fueling my resolve.

"You know she's not like the other women you used to be with, right?" Peter interjected, his voice cutting through the air and disrupting my thoughts once again. "And to answer your question, I think you have three subjects together."

I shrugged off his comment with a dismissive smirk. "Whatever. You all know that when I want something or someone, I'll get it immediately," I declared, the confidence in my tone masking the uncertainty swirling beneath the surface. Tofer chuckled in response, his laughter filling the room as he returned his focus to the billiards table. With a skilled shot, he sunk two balls into the pocket, maintaining his turn. I found myself drawn into the intensity of the game, momentarily distracted from our conversation.

"What if I told you that I like her? Would you still pursue her?" Peter's sudden question caught me off guard, prompting me to turn towards him with wide eyes. His unexpected confession left me speechless, a mixture of surprise and curiosity swirling within me.

"What? You like her? Since when?" Tofer interjected, his interest piqued as he abandoned his game to join our conversation. I couldn't help but fixate on Peter, eager for his response.

"Since high school. She's been our classmate for years. Remember?" Peter's words stirred memories within me, dredging up images of a distant past filled with missed opportunities and unresolved tensions.

Of course, I remembered. How could I forget? I had always admired her from afar, but my attempts at forging a connection had been met with resistance. Her aloof demeanor had frustrated me, leading me to eventually distance myself from her. Yet now, as her presence loomed large in my mind, I felt an undeniable pull towards her, a desire to claim her as my own.

"Yeah, I remember. And her friend, the blonde one? She's stunning. I'll have her as my girlfriend someday," Tofer remarked, his smirk betraying his playful intentions. We shared a knowing laugh, shaking our heads at his audacious declaration.

"If you're serious about her, Clark, go after her. Tell her how you feel. And if you can't, then I'll step in and pursue her for myself," Peter stated, his tone shifting from lighthearted banter to genuine resolve. His words hung in the air, laden with unspoken implications and lingering questions.

I couldn't help but wonder: Why now? Why not before? But as I met Peter's earnest gaze, I realized that his intentions were clear. Mia was no longer just a fleeting desire – she had become a coveted prize, a symbol of unspoken longing and untapped potential. And if I didn't act soon, someone else would.

Unaware of the tension building within me, I tightened my grip on the cue stick until my knuckles turned bone-white. Without warning, frustration boiled over, and I hurled the stick across the room, the sharp crack of it splintering in two punctuating the air. My glare bore into Peter for a fleeting moment before shifting to Tofer, who stood nearby, his expression a mix of concern and uncertainty. Without a word, I stormed out of the room, my mind consumed by thoughts of Mia and the plan forming within it.

As I made my way through the familiar corridors, I felt their presence trailing behind me, but I paid them no mind. My singular focus was on reaching my garage, where I could gather my thoughts and strategize my next move.

"Let's go," I declared brusquely, not bothering to glance back at them as I headed towards my prized possession – the red Chevrolet Corvette that had become an extension of myself. Peter gravitated towards his silver Porsche Boxster, while Tofer claimed his yellow Ford Mustang, each of us preparing to depart for school.

Engines roared to life one by one, the sound a symphony of power and determination. With me leading the way, we embarked on the familiar route to school, the anticipation of what lay ahead driving us forward. But amidst the roar of engines and the rush of adrenaline, my thoughts remained fixated on one thing – Mia.

Soon, Mia would be mine.

---

We arrived at school fashionably late, our presence commanding attention as we strolled down the hallway. Eyes followed our every move, whispers trailing in our wake, but I remained resolute, my gaze fixed ahead.

The cacophony of excited voices washed over us, a familiar backdrop to our daily routine. But amidst the chaos, one figure caught my eye – Mia. My jaw slackened involuntarily as our eyes locked, a jolt of electricity passing between us. Her reaction was unexpected – a mixture of shock and embarrassment flickering across her features as she glanced towards her friend for support.

With a smirk, I seized the moment, relishing in the blush that stained her cheeks. In that instant, the score was clear – one point for the bad boy, zero for the good girl.

Our silent exchange stretched out for what felt like an eternity, each passing moment heavy with unspoken tension. Suddenly, I sensed Peter and Tofer coming to a halt beside me, their movements mirroring mine as they followed the path of my gaze. I couldn't help but notice Mia's reaction – her blush deepened as she diverted her eyes from mine to Tofer and then to Peter. Anger and jealousy surged within me – she should be fixated on me, and me alone.

When I realized that Peter and Tofer were continuing on their way and Mia's gaze returned to me, I couldn't resist the urge to provoke her further. With a cocky smirk and a playful wink, I watched as her blush intensified. It was a small victory, but one that filled me with satisfaction. As I turned to continue towards my locker, a sense of foolishness washed over me – I must have looked utterly ridiculous, grinning like a fool. But in that moment, it didn't matter. Seeing her reaction made it all worthwhile... she was worth it.

Approaching my locker, my attention was abruptly pulled to Mitch, who leaned against the metal frame with an air of expectancy. Tofer's light-hearted gesture and their swift departure hinted at her intentions, but I had no interest in indulging her advances.

Peter and Tofer's mutual disdain for Mitch was well-founded – her reputation as the school's resident femme fatale preceded her. Our brief encounter was a regrettable mistake, fueled by alcohol and blurred lines. Now, she clung to me with an overtly flirtatious demeanor that grated on my nerves.

Pushing her away with more force than intended, I braced myself for her inevitable retaliation, a mixture of annoyance and frustration bubbling within me.

"What's your problem, babe? Not in the mood, huh?" she purred, batting her eyelashes in a pathetic attempt at seduction.

Rolling my eyes at her theatrics, I cut her off sharply. "Just go away, Mitch; I don't have time for this," I snapped, my glare piercing.

"Fine, I'll see you at lunchtime," she replied, blowing a kiss before sauntering off. I shook my head at her feeble attempt, gathering my belongings for the next class before heading off, her presence still lingering unpleasantly in my mind.

==============

We sat at the back of the classroom, the weight of impending lunch break hanging in the air like a silent promise. While it may appear that I was lost in my own world, my focus remained tethered to the professor's lecture. Graduating was a priority – I needed to prepare myself to take over our family business once I received my diploma.

Peter's interruption jolted me back to the present, his inquiry slicing through the veil of my thoughts. I met his gaze briefly before redirecting my attention to the professor, who continued to drone on at the front of the room.

"It's none of your concern, Peter," I replied evenly, my expression impassive as I kept my eyes fixed ahead.

His response was a simple nod, signaling his acceptance of my curt dismissal. With that, he returned his focus to the lecture, leaving me to wrestle with my own thoughts in silence.

From that moment on, the professor's words became nothing more than background noise. My mind was consumed by thoughts of her, her image flashing behind my closed eyelids with each passing second.

=================

"Hey, babe," Mitch purred as she sauntered over to our table, her entourage of scantily clad friends trailing behind her. Two of her companions settled in with Tofer, while another squeezed in beside Peter, eliciting an irritated shuffle from him as he relocated to the opposite end of the table. Before I could brush off Mitch's advances, Peter's voice cut through the air, drawing my attention.

"She's here," he announced, his gaze fixed on the cafeteria entrance. I followed his line of sight, halting mid-motion to glance up at the newcomer.

There she stood, engaged in animated conversation with her friend, her smile warm and genuine. Unable to resist, I found my gaze lingering on her, admiring the simplicity of her attire – faded blue jeans hugged her curves, complemented by a crimson halter top and white Vans sneakers. Despite her understated style, there was an undeniable allure about her, a fact she seemed oblivious to as she chatted away, her dimples punctuating her laughter.

Lost in my observation, I was caught off guard when our eyes met. Instinctively, I offered a smirk in return, only to be met with a startling array of emotions – shock, anger, and something akin to pain – flickering across her features before she swiftly averted her gaze, retreating to a secluded table in the far corner of the cafeteria. Bewilderment gnawed at me. What had caused such a reaction?

"Who's the girl you were staring at?" Mitch's voice broke through my reverie, pulling me back to the present. Glancing down, I realized the compromising position we were in – her nestled against my waist, perched comfortably on my lap. Suddenly, it dawned on me – was she jealous?

Perhaps I could orchestrate a scenario where she realizes the error of her ways and comes running back to me, repentant, after witnessing me and Mitch sharing a passionate kiss. It seemed like a solid plan, didn't it?

Without hesitation, I leaned in to kiss Mitch fervently, and she reciprocated with equal fervor. Our lips met in a heated embrace, and for a few heart-pounding moments, I was lost in the intensity of our embrace. When I finally pulled away, I glanced expectantly in Mia's direction, hoping she had witnessed our display of affection and would be drawn back to our table. But my hopes were dashed when I saw Peter standing before their table engaged in conversation with Mia.

What were they discussing? Damn it! This wasn't part of the plan. A surge of anger welled up inside me, a primal urge to lash out at someone. My eyes remained fixed on them, unwilling to look away, desperate to decipher their exchange. My frustration reached a boiling point as I watched them leave the cafeteria together. Where were they headed? What were they plotting?

A whirlwind of questions swirled in my mind, leaving me feeling utterly powerless as I could do nothing but watch their departure. Just before they disappeared from view, Mia glanced back at me, our eyes locking once more. In that moment, I couldn't decipher the emotions flickering in her gaze. We held each other's gaze for a fleeting moment before she turned away, her hand resting on Peter's lower back. Anger coursed through me like a raging inferno. She could undoubtedly sense my seething resentment as our eyes met, yet before I could rise from my seat, she walked away with him.

In a fit of rage, I rose from my seat, disregarding any concern for Mitch who might have stumbled to the floor due to my sudden movement. I motioned for Tofer to accompany me, and together we stormed out of the cafeteria, the intensity of my fury pulsating with each step.

Every fiber of my being screamed with a burning need to unleash my pent-up anger. I craved the cathartic release that only violence could provide. My fists clenched tightly, knuckles whitening with the force of my grip, as I fixated on my singular goal: to confront Mia and exact retribution for the turmoil she had stirred within me.

With determined strides, I marched forward, my thoughts consumed by a relentless desire to confront Mia head-on. No obstacle would deter me from my mission, even if it meant resorting to drastic measures.