I smile. “I agree. I like things to be in order, that’s why I’m captain.”

“Yeah, I don’t think Rachael will allow me to dethrone her.”

“Too bad, you’d make a hot captain.”

She laughs. “I’m pretty sure in your eyes I’d make a hot anything.”

I act like I’m thinking for a second and then nod. “Yup, pretty much.”

She giggles before running her hands along my neck and up into my hair, brushing it to the side. It feels so amazing that soon my eyes fall shut as she moves her hands through my hair. When her fingers slowly graze along the hair on my jaw, I open one eye to find her working her lip as if she’s nervous, or thinking way too damn hard.

“What are you thinking about?”

She shrugs. “Crap.”

I smile. “Wanna share your crap and see if I can help?”

She works her lips a little more, and then lets out a long breath. “So people are looking at me like I’m the dumbest bitch in the world for dating you, and it’s superirritating. They are blowing your phone up, but they are coming at me, saying all these crazy things to me, like, don’t I know you’ve been around and shit like that. It’s annoying as hell.” I sit up and her hands fall into her lap as she watches me. “I didn’t say it to piss you off,” she says quickly and I shrug.

“I know that, but I still don’t like that it’s happening to you. It’s stupid,” I say, my heart pounding in my chest. I have a feeling she’s going to tell me she can’t handle it and wants to cut things off with me. I can’t blame her, though; I wouldn’t want people in my face either telling me the person I’m dating is basically a manwhore. I mean, I know I was, but I don’t want to be that anymore.

“Yeah, it’s dumb, and I’m hoping it dies down.”

“I hope so too. I mean, you can say I’ve seen more ass than a toilet seat, but am I proud of it? I was before I met you, not so much now. I’m more embarrassed than anything. But the big question is, is it gonna be a problem?”

She shakes her head. “I don’t think so. I think the biggest thing that bothers me is that they say you’re gonna cheat on me. The way I see it is, I’m with you, and I trust you until you give me a reason not to, and then I’m gone.”

“I don’t think that will happen.”

Ignoring my comment, she goes on, “Plus, who am I to judge you? My past is way worse than yours. I slept with grown men at fourteen, so who the hell am I to judge anyone? I’m good with us. I just wish everyone would leave me the hell alone.”

I try to keep my jaw from dropping, but it doesn’t work. “Whoa, what?”

“Huh? I want people to leave me alone.”

“No, the fourteen-year-old with grown men stuff.”

She nods. “Oh, yeah, told ya, I had a bad, bad childhood.”

Still a little shocked, I ask, “Care to elaborate?”

“Nope,” she says, looking deep in my eyes. “But I will once I know you aren’t going to run from my scary, horrible childhood.”

Reaching out, I tuck a stray piece of her hair behind her ear and smile. “I don’t think that’s gonna happen.”

“That’s ’cause we’re in the lusty phase, where we can’t get enough. Plus, you want to see my ass again.”

I laugh as I nod. “This is very true, but honestly, I really do like you, like, a lot.”

“Like, a lot, a lot?”

She leans into me, running her nose along mine, her eyes pulling me in and making my heart beat faster. “A whole fucking lot.”

Biting into her lip, she grazes her lips against mine, our breaths mingling, our hearts in time as my hands come up her thighs to the small of her back, resting under her shirt. She takes in a soft breath as our eyes lock, and everything inside me goes hot.

Then she says, “I think I might like you a little more than that.”

She honestly just made my life with those eleven little words.

“And because of that, I don’t care what anyone says. I’m good, Jude, as long as you don’t hurt me,” I say, and I mean every word.

I’ve thought about this all day. Ever since the first girl came at me, I’ve been thinking about it, and I’ve decided that I’ve never cared what people thought about me before, and I’m not going to start now. Yes, it’s only day one of dating Jude, and yes, a billion people have told me it’s a bad idea, but I don’t care.

I like him.

“I won’t,” he promises and I believe him.

I smile as he pulls me down from the bike and into his lap. I wrap my arms around his neck, and he smashes his lips to mine. Slowly we kiss, both of our mouths teasing the other’s as his fingers stroke my back. Parting, I smile against his lips before leaning back and asking, “Take your shirt off.”

He waggles his eyebrows, and I laugh as he says, “Why, yes, ma’am.”

“Dork, I want to see your tattoos. I haven’t gotten a good look at them, and they intrigue me.”

He smiles before pulling his Bullies shirt over his head and into his lap. Leaning in close, I run my fingers on his chest where an anatomical heart with hockey sticks crossed through it is inked above where his real heart lies. I look at him questioningly, and he says, “Hockey is in my heart, my soul.”

I nod before trailing my eyes up to his left arm where the measures for “Hey Jude” by the Beatles run along his whole arm, stopping at his wrist, the lyrics to the song under each note. It is beautiful, stunning even, with splashes of watercolor all throughout the tattoo.

“For your mom?” I ask, and he smiles as he nods.

“It’s actually my favorite song. It’s one of those songs that hits you in the heart.”

“Agreed.”

He flashes me a grin as I notice that along his bicep are five names: Mom, Lucy, Jayden, Jace, and Angie in beautiful script.

“Where is your dad’s name?”

He shrugs. “I don’t get along with my dad much.”

I can tell that’s a sensitive subject, so I just nod as I inspect the rest of his arm. He hadn’t pushed for my deep dark secrets, and I wouldn’t do that to him. There will be a time when we bare our souls to each other, but today is not that day. I take in the other things he has which are more abstract objects in watercolor. They’re beautiful and everything ties together perfectly. Lacing my fingers with his, I notice that he doesn’t have anything on top of his right arm, so I turn it over and decide that this one is probably my favorite besides the lyrics. It’s a hockey puck coming out of his skin, blood dripping from the wound with little ice shards around it. Above, it has laces that look as if they’re stitched into his skin to close the wound, and on them it reads “No Fear, No Pain, No Gain.” It is completely badass, and nothing less than I would expect Jude to get.