Naughty Angel (Sexy Nerd Boys #2) (5 page)

Chapter 7

Eve

              Brahm and I attend church group on Sunday afternoon. I find myself fidgety and disinterested the entire time. The topic of discussion for the day is morals and how we can only be good by following the word of god. I squirm uncomfortably in my seat and Brahm reaches over and places his hand on mine and gives me a stern look.

              “Sorry,” I whisper.

After group Brahm and a few other students decide to go for coffee, I politely decline, mainly because these people with their fake friendliness are irritating me. They’re all a bit like Stepford wives instead of real people. I mean, just because you love Jesus doesn’t mean you can’t complain about things once in awhile. I reach into my purse to check my phone, secretly hoping for a text from Asher, when I accidentally plow headlong into a hard body.

              “Whoa, you okay Angel?” My head whips up and my eyes widen with shock as I take in Asher, standing on the steps of the church.

              “Are you lost? You do realize you’re about to walk into a church right?” I ask teasingly, but also genuinely confused as to what a staunch non-believer like Asher would be doing entering a church.

              “You caught me, I’m a closet bible thumper,” He confesses with a playful wink.

I shake my head and smile.

“Why are you really here?”

“Come on, I’ll show you.”

He grabs my arm gently and steers me back inside. He leads me down to the basement where bible group is held, but then leads me down another hallway to a kitchen that I hadn’t realized was there.

              “What are we doing in the kitchen?” I ask as he starts to pull out pots, several large boxes of spaghetti noodles, and a ladle.

              “Don’t just stand there Angel, there are going to be a bunch of hungry people here in an hour. And, if we don’t have food for them there’s no telling what they’ll do.”

A plump, middle aged woman enters as well and gives Asher a warm smile.

“There’s my favorite volunteer,” She greets him with a tight hug.

              “You volunteer for a soup kitchen?” I ask incredulously.

              “Yeah, now are you going to get the sauce going or what?”

 

 

              An hour later we’re serving up spaghetti and garlic bread to a basement full of people. Most of them know Asher well and he seems to love having personal conversations with each of them.

              “Hey, Asher.” A scrawny girl who appears to be about thirteen greets him with a reverent smile.

              “Lucy, how’s school?”

              “Good, I’m getting almost all A’s right now,” She announces proudly as Asher fills her plate with pasta.

“Excellent. And, don’t forget, if you ever need help in math you know who to come to,” He reminds her with a wink.

She rolls her eyes and looks over at me.

              “Hi, I haven’t met you before,” She says with a kind smile. “I’m Lucy.”

              “Hi, I’m Eve. I’m a friend of Asher’s,” I introduce myself.

              “Wow, I didn’t know Asher had friends,” She teases Asher.

              “Hey, Lucy, why does Snoop Dogg carry an umbrella?” Asher sets up the joke.

              “Fo’ drizzle,” Lucy steals his punchline.

              “So you’ve heard that one? I’ll have to try again next week.”

              Lucy takes her food and goes to sit by a middle aged man who seems to be her father.

“I can’t believe that you come here every week and do this,” I say in complete awe of him.

If I didn’t have an embarrassing crush on the tattooed not-so-bad boy before, I definitely have one now. Asher shrugs like it’s no big deal.

              “My mom died when I was a baby, and money was always really tight for my dad and I. He did the best he could, but we went hungry sometimes. I guess I just like knowing that I’m helping people who really need it.”

I don’t even have words to express how much what Asher just said touched my soul. So instead I reach out and thread my fingers through his. His gaze remains trained on my face for several seconds before he clears his throat and pulls his hand back.

              “Come on, don’t get all mushy on me now Angel,” He jokes before pulling me in for a brief hug.

Asher may be too ‘advanced’ for me, but the more I get to know him, the more I’m desperate for a ride.

 

 

Asher

Wednesday afternoon I’m mindlessly flipping through TV channels when there’s a knock at the door. As I pull it open and I look dumbly at the empty doorstep. It takes me a minute to see something lying a few feet down the walk. When I reach it I look down with confusion at the water gun laying on the sidewalk in front of my house. I bend down to pick it up and as soon as I do I feel a blast of cold water on the back of my head. I spin around to see Eve standing there with a playful grin and her own water gun pointed right at me.

“Are you looking for a fight?” I pump my water gun up with a grin. “Cause if so, you’re going to get one.”

              “Bring it on...bitch.” She squirts me again this time in the face before taking off into the wooded area beside my house.

I look down, realizing I’m not wearing shoes. I sprint back into the house and slip my shoes on before running after her.

 

Thirty minutes later we’re laying on the lawn soaking wet and exhausted. I’m doing my best not to notice how her wet shirt clings to her body in a sinfully inviting way. But, my brain won’t stop replaying an image of peeling her soaked clothes off and burying my face between her tits. My cock throbs at the idea. Maybe it’s just been too damn long since I’ve gotten laid. But, the thought of fucking some chick that I’ll never see again just makes me cringe at this point.

              “Thanks for playing with me, I saw the water guns at the store and I couldn’t think of anyone better to have a water fight with than you.”

Well thank the universe for that, I certainly wouldn’t have wanted anyone else seeing her hot little body all wet like this. Although, for all I know her church group boyfriend has already seen a lot more than this. The thought makes me almost see red.

              “What about the boyfriend?” I say bitterly before I can stop myself.

She lets out a derisive laugh.

“There is no way he would want to play water guns with me. For one, he probably would have said that we should be praying or something instead of playing. And, for two I think my wet clothes are a bit lacking in modesty so I probably would’ve gotten a lecture about bringing glory to god by not causing men to have lustful thoughts.”

My mouth drops open at her explanation.

“What?” I ask, trying not to laugh.

“On our second date I wore a dress that showed off the goods a bit. He didn’t like how ‘immodest’ it was,” She explains with a laugh.

“Well you certainly won’t hear any complaints from me. In fact, I’m quite enjoying your ‘immodest’ attire at the moment.” I look her up and down in an exaggerated way.

She smacks me playfully and heaves herself off of the ground.

“I should’ve brought a change of clothes so that we could hang out. But, now I’m going to have to go home and get changed.”

“No way, I can give you something to throw on and we can put your clothes in the dryer,” I insist, standing up as well.

I’m greedy for my time with Eve. Not to mention, I may be a masochist, but I suddenly absolutely
have to
see her in my clothes.

“Okay,” She agrees, following me into the house.

We drip on the floor from the front door to my bedroom but I don’t really give a shit, life’s too short. I pull open my dresser drawer and grab a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants and hand them to her. She takes them and disappears into my bathroom to get changed. I change into dry clothes and then wait for her.

When she steps out of the bathroom I’m convinced that I must be a masochist after all, because seeing her in my t-shirt and baggy sweatpants is the hottest damn thing I’ve seen in my entire life. I try to discreetly adjust my pants to hide my massive hard-on.

“Thanks,” She says with a blush as she hands me her wet clothes to put in the dryer.

We make ourselves comfortable on the couch and I put on Netflix.

              Eve learns forward and picks up the book resting on my coffee table and examines it.
A Brief History of Time
by Stephen Hawking.

“Are you reading this for a class?” She asks.

              “No, it’s just out for light reading here and there. Honestly I’m pretty much always reading it.”

“For fun?”

              I chuckle at the surprise in her tone. Then her eyes roam over me in disbelief.

“What?” I challenge with a grin, tugging my lip ring between my teeth.

“I can’t understand how someone who looks like
that
,” She gestures to my body and then to my face, “Can also be such a nerd.”

“Are you trying to say you think I’m hot?”

              Eve’s cheeks flame crimson and it takes every ounce of self control I have not to kiss the fuck out of her.

              “No, I was calling you a nerd you egotistical butthead.”

              “
Butthead?”
I choke out around a raucous laugh.

“Shut up and put on something for us to watch already.”  

“So do you have any favorites yet?” I ask once my laughter is under control.

              “I have a few favorites,” She announces with pride.

“Excellent, what do you want to watch?”

              “The Office?” She suggests shyly, like she’s afraid I’m going to disapprove of her selection.

“I love The Office.” I put on an episode and we settle in.

Again I’m mesmerized by the look of excitement in Eve’s eyes as she watches the show, and her surprised laughter at most of the jokes, like she can’t believe they’re actually funny.

              “What does that mean?” She asks, looking over at me.

Shit, I hadn’t been paying the least bit of attention to the show. She must’ve seen the confusion on my face because she clarifies her question.

“What does it mean when someone says ‘that’s what she said.’?”

“It means that someone said something that could be applied to sex, like a double entendre.” I explain.

She smiles and her eyes light up again.

              “Oh, that’s funny.”

              God this girl is making it difficult not to fall head over heals for her.

“Hey, what do you call cheese that isn’t yours?” I say, wanting to see her laugh again.

“What?”

              “Nacho cheese,” I deliver the punchline and she bursts out laughing.

It does something funny to my chest. Without thinking I start to lean towards her, my lips demanding that I kiss her.
Just a brief kiss.
What could it hurt? Nothing more than a little taste. Unlike the first time, she doesn’t get spooked, in fact she’s leaning in too. Her pink tongue darts out and moistens her lips, I hold back a moan. I can feel her breath tickling my lips,
this is it
. And then her fucking phone starts to ring.

              She jumps back and blushes furiously.

              “That’s Brahm calling,” She mutters as she jumps up off the couch and answers the phone.

              “Hi,” She squeaks out.

I feel like a complete ass for trying to kiss her, she has a boyfriend for christ's sake.

“Just hanging out with friends,” She says evasively. “Yeah, okay.”

I can’t help but notice that she seems disappointed before she hangs up the phone.

              “What’s up?” I ask with forced cheer.

              “Brahm wants to take me out for dinner, so I should get going,” She says with obvious reluctance.

I know it’s selfish of me but I can’t help but feel glad that it certainly seems like she’d rather continue spending time with me than with her boyfriend.

              “Alright, I had fun today,” I tell her as I go to get her clothes from the dryer.

              “Me too.” She takes her clothes from me.

              “Just give my clothes back to me the next time I see you.”

              “Okay,” She pauses at the door and looks up at me in the damn sweetest way possible. Then she gets up on her tiptoes and plants a soft kiss on my cheek. “I’ll see you Friday?”

              “Yeah,” I respond in a daze, still thinking about how soft and warm her lips are.

It’s not until after she leaves that I realize that now I have to go hang out with everyone Friday and meet her boyfriend.
Fucking great.

 

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