I Woke Up Next To A Half-Naked Bad Boy in School [08] And He Suddenly Made Me His Personal Slave?!

I sat on the leather, white seat as calmly as possible, but it was just too boring. My legs must've folded in 200 different positions in the flight. I didn't really get excitement, really. Once I've arrived at the airport, trailing behind Brandon...I didn't even have to go through that scanner thingy!

...Spare me, I never been in a plane before except when I was a child. And that's at least 10 years ago.

But when we were actually boarding it, I was stunned to silence when I saw a private jet waiting for us. I was so excited...but here I was, more than half an hour later feeling as if I wanted to jump out of the plane straight away.

So the only thing I could to kill boredom was to annoy the heck out of Brandon.

"Shut up."

I didn't even said anything! What was this guy, psychic?!

"How did you know I wanted to talk to you?" I said, sounding affronted. He sighed and looked up from his laptop. "Because, Samantha, you said it out loud."

Oh. That was humiliating...

I slumped back in my seat, trying to stay still.

But of course, I couldn't.

"Hey Brandon, what's that?" I asked.

"Nothing."

"You look stressed out. Maybe I can help!"

How hard was it to type some numbers into a laptop?

Brandon cocked his eyebrow towards me and leaned back. I took a peek at the bright screen. "Um..." I trailed off, feeling frustrated and annoyed as I glance up towards Brandon. He was smirking at me. There were documents saying things that I couldn't even understand or pronounce, and there were all sorts of charts. Pie charts, bar graph, line graph.

How many graph does a guy needs?

Under the bar graphs were confusing numbers and...

Oh my god. This was the first time that I actually felt scared of numbers.

"...maybe not," I squeaked. I stared at him a minute longer than I intended to as he reads a couple of paperwork in his hand. Somehow, I couldn't imagine the bad boy in school...well, like this. He was so tense and quiet.

I felt uncomfortable.

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"Truth be told," he said, taking off his jacket and throwing it on the bed. "I came here to meet my friends."

"You have friends?" I said before I could stop myself.

Of course he had...but all I could imagine was groupies. He ignored me and sat on the edge of the bed. "Aaand...truth be told, I was bluffing."

"Excuse me?"

Brandon yawned and stretched as if he wasn't listening to me. I gritted my teeth. "I could easily get you a room in the manor, sure my father would be a little bit pissed off, but I still can get you one with ease."

Ass. Hole.

"So you did all of those things, just to...to..." I stammered angrily. "Torture me?!"

"Torture is such...a strong word. I prefer 'tease' if you must," he said, smirking. I couldn't speak. It was as if my tongue was glued to the bottom of my mouth. There's a fine line between teasing and being cruel.

I'd rather slept on that mattress in Tom's trailer rather than that cold, hard bathtub.

"So here," he said, taking out a card and holding it between his middle finger and index finger. "What's that?" I asked. His lips twitched. "A room key, Samantha."

A room key?

Does that mean...?

I snatched it right away, afraid that he would change his mind any second. "Thank you," I said, grinning widely. It was hard, being indecisive and guilty I meant. He helped me only a few days ago, and trust me, I was very grateful for that.

But suddenly he did such stupid acts that it just gets me worked up sometimes.

And the next thing you knew, he was making perplexing kind gestures, such as this.

Conclusion? He was nuts.

I didn't get this guy, I seriously don't.

"Hey, when will you be meeting up with your friends?" I asked.

"Tomorrow night," he replied. It was already 10 p.m. in Manhattan, and I felt excruciatingly exhausted. "Tomorrow night huh? So you're saying you're free in the morning?"

"Why ask?"

"Let's go out tomorrow morning!"

Why did that sound so wrong?