Pop Corn
Everyone at BHC thinks I only hang out with Eugene Grant so he’ll write my essays. Eugene thinks I’m just his troubled, rich best friend hiding from an empty mansion.
Neither knows the real reason I’m always sleeping over.
It’s his father: Officer Marcus Grant.
Cold, muscular, and dangerously strict, Marcus is the only cop in the city my family’s money can’t buy. He thinks I’m a reckless bad influence on his son.
He’s fucking right. I start fights just so he’ll arrest me. I walk around his house shirtless at 2 AM just to watch his expression. Ever since one drunken night blurred the lines between us, I’ve done everything possible to make the stern officer lose control again.
"Put a damn shirt on and get back to the guest room," Marcus whispered the order in the dark kitchen.
Instead, I stepped closer until my bare, tattooed chest brushed his silver badge.
"Why?" I murmured with a lazy grin. "Does it bother you, Officer Grant? Or are you still thinking about that night you called a mistake?"
Before I could blink, Marcus grabbed my hair and slammed my back against the wall, clamping a heavy hand over my mouth.
"Make a single sound and wake my son up, and you'll regret it," he breathed against my ear. "You came down here looking for trouble, Jaxon. Don't complain now that you found it."
Playing with fire under my best friend’s roof is dangerous enough. But now Eugene is looking at me as more than a friend, and his father’s grip on my wrists is only getting tighter.
Officer Grant wants to teach me a lesson. Little does he know, I’ve been begging to get cuffed from the start.
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