Bad Reputation Read online

  Really. Silent, the girls all took a second to look at each other. Then, at the same time, they sprung out of their chairs, scrambling to the front of the house to watch Connor Schaffer and Kyle Laurie pant and power through the Atlantic Ocean, shirts off and pumping all kinds of adrenaline in attempts to best one another. Standing the furthest back, Peyton told herself that she was watching because there was nothing else to do, not because she was curious about Connor and what he might look like dripping wet from a hundred-meter freestyle. But her heart undeniably raced as he neared the shoreline, neck and neck with Kyle.

  “First one to grab the flag gets a big kiss from me!” Poppy shouted, shedding the knit top that she had on over her dress and waving it high in the air. From behind her, Peyton stepped to the side for a better view. Her pulse pounded even faster as Connor suddenly tore out from the water.

  Oh. My God.

  So that was what Connor looked like without clothes on. Over-stimulated, Peyton’s eyes tried to ogle several different body parts at once. His borderline eight-pack. Those impossibly broad shoulders. The black swim trunks that clung to his muscled thighs as they pumped like an Olympic sprinter’s toward Poppy and her waving flag.

  “Yes, yes, yes! Come to mama!” Poppy squealed, jumping up and down as Connor ran across the beach. Barreling through, he snatched the shirt from Poppy’s fingers, grunting something guttural and victorious before collapsing with a big grin onto the sand not too far from Peyton’s feet.

  Stumbling back a few steps, Peyton stared down at Connor and his bare, panting chest. The way his abs widened and contracted as he tried to catch his breath – how they further defined the deep lines of his hard muscle. Christ. It was actually mesmerizing. Peyton couldn’t help but continue staring as he rose to his feet, covered in sweat, sand and now, a few of the other girls. She even failed to look away when Connor, with Poppy wrapped around his torso, looked back at her, keeping his silvery gaze fixed intently on her even as Poppy whispered something flirtatious in his ear.

  It wasn’t till Poppy rubbed his chest with both hands that Peyton snapped out of it. Gathering herself, she remembered that she found Connor repulsive – that he was a presumptuous, chauvinistic asshole who couldn’t be nice to a girl without expecting sexual payment. And so with an inward grumble, Peyton turned around, trudging back up the beach and toward the house.

  But just as she reached the front door, a hand shot out to grab the brass knob before she could. Startled, she spun around, finding herself suddenly between Connor and the front door.

  “What are you doing?” she demanded, instinctively pushing him by the chest.

  “Trying to get inside and away from Poppy Somerville’s grabby hands.”

  “Right.” Peyton had to laugh as she turned back around. “Because you’re so averse to being rewarded with sexual favors. I thought you basically expected those anytime you did something moderately impressive.”

  “I’m sorry – what?” Connor snorted as they both pushed through the front door and into the house. Ignoring him, Peyton grabbed a suitcase and made her way upstairs to claim a room. He followed. “Oh, is it Baseless Claims Against Connor time again? I realize that this is one of your favorite pastimes so by all means, continue.”

  Peyton groaned as she marched up the steps. “You saved me from an asshole when I was too drunk to do it myself and instead of being halfway decent about it, you spent the next week calling me at 2AM because you thought I’d reward you with sex. So, baseless? I wouldn’t be so quick to call it that,” she snapped before pacing down the hall and setting her bag down in front of a door she’d chosen for no particular reason. Feeling Connor still behind her, Peyton turned, ready to snarl at him to back off – but her mouth snapped shut the second she caught the look on his face.

  For once, he wasn’t smirking. His jaw was tight and he looked thoroughly irritated as he stood there in cold, stony silence. But then he took a step toward her. Rather than escape into the room, Peyton planted herself firmly against the door, even as Connor slowly closed the gap between them. He was practically on top of her now. His lips were at her eye line and his face hovered just above hers. Peyton held her breath when she felt drops of ocean water drip from his jaw onto the naked top of her chest.

  “I was calling you so you’d reward me with sex… that’s what you thought,” Connor reiterated slowly, his grey eyes burning through hers. “You know that because you know everything about me. Right?” Peyton clenched her teeth, unsure of how to respond since the answer was obviously no. When she said nothing, Connor’s lip curled. “Right. You know, why don’t we just get something straight here,” he said, his voice like gravel. “You are goddamned gorgeous. No sane person would argue that. Do I want to fuck you? Yes. I want to fuck you. I’ve fantasized about that pretty much every day since I met you. I can’t stop. I picture you in that little black dress as much as I picture you naked and there are times when the thought of you gets me so hard I’d give fucking anything to feel you naked in my bed - so, yes, definitely, I want to fuck you.” He paused, his jaw tight. “But did I save you from that jackass at the club so I could guilt you into having sex with me later? No. I didn’t. That’s what a complete piece of shit would do and as much as you’d like to believe that that’s me, it’s not. You just believe what’s convenient for you because let’s be honest, you made up your mind about me a long time ago. You choose to live by all these assumptions you make about people because they help you stay in this safe little comfort zone where – good or bad – nothing new ever happens for you. I realize that now and you know what, it helps me keep my mouth shut when you decide to walk around acting like you know everything about everyone when, surprise, you don’t.”

  Peyton exhaled.

  Fuck. It was like she’d been stripped bare and knocked breathless at the same time. Hugging her stomach, she absorbed his words. She should probably be angry – furious, really – but for some reason, she wasn’t. And if she was, it wasn’t at him.

  Staring ahead at Connor’s bare chest, Peyton tried to think of something to say.

  “Why did you call me then?” she finally asked.

  Connor rubbed his jaw, looking suddenly exhausted. “Because I know how much you care about your cousin and I figured it was important for you to know what Blake emailed me the day after we saw him. He said he bought a ring for Kensie. He’s proposing to her next week.”

  11

  Hey man.

  I didn’t recognize you the night we ran into each other at Green Room. Damn. Big fan of your work. I’m beyond thrilled that Kensie’s big screen debut will be with one of your incredible scripts, because that girl means the world to me and her dreams are mine. I’m not sure if you’ve heard about Kensie and my history together but it’s extensive, hard to explain and something I’ve been fighting to right for several months now.

  I don’t normally write long emails to other dudes appealing for help or sympathy, but I have to write this to you because the Blake you saw the other night wasn’t the Blake I’ve worked so hard to discover since Kensie and I took a break. It was a Blake who had had his first drink in a long time and was provoked by a girl who reminds him of a lot of shame and regret. I don’t know if you’re really dating Peyton or not – now that I realize who you are, I can’t help but doubt you two as a couple – but regardless, you should be aware that Peyton has come between Kensie and I in the past and the other night, she was trying once again to do the same. What you saw was the tail end of it – me resisting her advances with the type of challenging, aggressive anger I’m unfortunately known for when I am triggered.

  To get to the point: I would truly appreciate if you could keep the incident from Kensie. Just tell her I spilled a beer on your shoes. I don’t know. Whatever you do, please don’t mention Peyton because it’ll bring back bad memories for the poor, sweet, beautiful girl I’m looking to propose to next week on the 15th – her 26th birthday. Yes, that’s right. I’m looking to settle down foreve
r with Kensie Jayne Cohan. Got the custom 4-carat, fair trade diamond and everything. Because she deserves her happy ending. We both do. So please, whatever you do, help us reach it.

  X,

  Blake Rittenhouse

  Christ. Blake’s email was very well the douchiest thing Connor had ever had the pleasure of reading. He pulled it up again as everyone sat around the bonfire, drinking straight from bottles now. After a day of snorkeling, speed boating and playing boozy beach volleyball, the actors had all become more than acquainted with each other. Unfortunately, with Kensie spending the bulk of her time with Kyle and Isabel talking politics with Jackson Torres, Connor was left with Poppy Somerville and her rather aggressive methods of flirtation. Somewhere between her fourth and fifth Mai Tai, the girl had put her own iPhone on the speaker dock and started up the playlist titled “Babymakin’ <3.” By her sixth drink, she was giving Connor lap dances with her mouth hanging open in a this-is-my-sexy-face kind of way. It was brutal but on the bright side, Poppy was too drunk to realize that Connor wasn’t watching her at all.

  Leaning back in his oversized wooden beach chair, he eyed Peyton. She had been nursing the same flute of Veuve since five hours ago, which was probably good for a Guinness World record, and like everyone else, she was still wearing her swimsuit – an athletic, black two-piece that could probably double as a sports bra and booty shorts. Though he generally preferred his women as minimally dressed as possible, the ensemble drove Connor wild. While the rest of the girls gave minimal effort during volleyball for fear of wardrobe malfunctions, Peyton powered through every match, serving and spiking like she belonged on a professional squad. On several occasions, she let out grunts that had Connor instantly hard.

  Which he found annoying. He was hell bent on being over her, especially since she’d just ignored him after he explained himself about the late-night calls, but it wasn’t happening. He couldn’t stop staring and lusting. If anything, he wanted her more now that he’d completely unloaded on her. It was ridiculous. He fantasized about touching every part of her body, particularly those long, toned legs. Connor could only imagine how good they’d look by tomorrow morning, when her fresh tan began to show.

  “Want another?”

  Stirring Connor from his thoughts was Kyle, who stumbled over with a bottle of scotch, wearing his slightly-too-tight, slightly-too-short swim trunks. They were no doubt made by the same designer whom he modeled boxer briefs for.

  “I’m good,” Connor replied, prompting Kyle to snort.

  “Naw. Since when are you a one-and-done drinker? I’ve seen you put away whole bottles of Laphroiag in a night. Trying to be a good boy for some reason?”

  “Someone’s gotta keep a safe eye out. Don’t want anyone drowning in the Atlantic before production starts.”

  Kyle laughed. “Don’t worry about it. Kensie said her cousin is the designated chaperone for tonight. You know the one that beasted at volleyball today? Apparently she’s also good at watching over idiots.”

  Connor flashed his eyebrows. “Calling Kensie Cohan an idiot?”

  Kyle shrugged. “I mean she’s not the sharpest tool in the shed. And she’s kind of fucking needy. But if she’s a good actress, she’s a good actress.”

  “She’s a good actress,” Connor confirmed.

  “Alright. Don’t give me that look,” Kyle snorted.

  Connor smirked. “I just know your history of being a dick to costars when they so much as breathe too loud for your taste. And I’m sure you’re starting to notice but Kensie can get talkative.”

  “I’ve noticed, but yeah. Don’t be a dick to Kensie Cohan. Got it,” Kyle gave a sarcastic thumbs up. “What, you dating the girl?”

  “No.”

  “Then why are you – hey, I was wondering.” Kyle’s drunken train of thought took a sharp turn as his gaze began to follow Peyton, who was getting up to go after Kensie for some reason or another. “What do you think of Kensie’s cousin? I noticed that she’s kind of smoking hot.”

  “You’re not the first to discover this, Columbus.”

  “Well shit, sorry. Looks like I came second to you again,” Kyle said with a grin though Connor knew that he found nothing funny about his thirteenth spot ranking on this year’s Forbes list. Mostly because Connor had ranked at number ten. “Alright, man, if you’re not having another round, I’ll have it for you. At least I got that on you,” Kyle slurred, drinking from the bottle.

  Good. Do that, Connor thought. Between the massive alcohol consumption and day’s worth of sweating in the sun, he figured it would be no time before everyone was passed out in their rooms.

  Everyone except Peyton.

  The theory did take some time but by 4AM, it finally proved true. Everyone was asleep, either in their rooms or on random couches, and the only sound came from Poppy’s phone, which still played old school R&B to which people probably did conceive children. Connor headed toward the kitchen to turn it off but just as he approached the arched entrance, he found a bleary-eyed Peyton walking there herself, dressed in just a ribbed tank top and boy shorts. She froze the second she spotted Connor.

  “I thought everyone was asleep,” she said, instinctively pulling the hem of her top down to cover her bottoms. Connor watched in silence as the material of the shirt stretched thin, the neckline tugging down to give him a more than generous view of her cleavage. Christ. Connor shifted his weight to make room inside his trunks.

  “I was about to head upstairs. Just wanted to turn this thing off first,” he said. “Did Poppy’s baby-making playlist wake you?”

  Peyton cracked a smile that made Connor’s heart beat a bit faster. “It did. And now I think I’m up,” she sighed. “Not really sleepy anymore.”

  “Sorry,” Connor said, though he wasn’t.

  “It’s not your fault,” Peyton shrugged. And for a second, they stood before each other outside the kitchen, either unsure of what to say or simply waiting for the other to speak first. Filling the growing silence was Poppy’s music, which was so sexual it bordered on hilarious. Slowly, and seemingly at the same exact time, Connor and Peyton processed the lyrics.

  I’m gonna take off all your clothes and I ain’t usin’ my hands

  These fingers are too busy gettin’ deep as they can

  “Oh God,” Peyton snorted, covering her mouth. Connor grinned as he watched her try to resist flat-out laughing in his presence, because that would mean that they were actually enjoying something together, and God forbid that.

  I got you wetter than the ocean baby, hot like a stove

  Watch me rock inside your body till I’m ready to blow

  You’re feeling so good I’m ‘bout to make you my wife

  ‘Cause girl I wanna fuck you for the rest of my life

  Promptly, Connor lost it.

  “Oh God, that’s horrible,” Peyton gasped, trying to laugh quietly since Jackson was in the next room, asleep on the hammock. “’Wetter than the ocean,’” she repeated, wiping a tear from her eye.

  Connor snorted as he went to remove Poppy’s phone from the dock. “I personally liked the whole ‘fucking you for the rest of my life’ thing.”

  “Of course you did,” Peyton giggled sleepily. “No. Actually, you’re the last person who’d want to fuck one person for the rest of his life.”

  “Come on. The assumptions again,” Connor smirked as he tossed Poppy’s phone onto the kitchen table. “I’d be perfectly happy fucking one person for the rest of my life,” he said before strolling back out into the hall and toward the front door. To his surprise, after standing still for a couple seconds, Peyton followed.

  “I guess you’ve been with enough women at this point to be satisfied with one for the rest of your life,” she murmured, mostly to herself. She rubbed her eyes as she followed Connor out the front door of the house. Despite hoping for this, Connor stopped and took a good look at her.

  “How drunk or sleepy are you right now?” he asked.

  She blinked. “Why?”<
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  “You’re being oddly civil with me,” Connor said as he closed the door behind them. “And you’re following me instead of running in the opposite direction. Not that I’m complaining.”

  Peyton laughed sheepishly. Even in the dark of the night, Connor could see her cheeks flush a little. “I may or may not have had one drink after Kensie fell asleep ‘cause I thought it would help me sleep too,” she confessed, her bare feet padding past him and down the steps. Connor trailed her onto the sand. “So being slightly tipsy,” she turned to walk backwards and face him, “I have the guts to admit now that I... was wrong. I’m glad you told me about Blake and I’m sorry that I spent the whole day panicking about the information instead of thanking you for it. So thank you for that, and thank you for saving me that night at the club.”

  Catching up to her, Connor walked slowly forward, keeping an eye on Peyton as she continued to walk backwards. “You’re welcome,” he said, his lips unconsciously mirroring Peyton’s as they curved up at the ends.

  “Blake aside, I also appreciate the time you took to feed and hydrate me before bed.”

  “My pleasure. Nothing better than reminding a grown woman that she has to uncap a water bottle before drinking it.”

  “God, did that really happen?” Peyton burst out laughing. “I’m sorry I was so drunk. I really need to get back at Poppy for tequila-bombing me that night.”

  “I’m happy to help if you need.”

  Peyton cocked an eyebrow. “Yeah?”

  Connor nodded, a slow grin spreading his lips as he watched her. There was something sexy and playful in Peyton’s eye that he’d never seen before – that was driving him wilder than any woman had ever driven him. Tugging his facial hair, Connor continued to follow her footsteps in the wet sand.

  “I’ll probably take you up on that offer,” Peyton smiled. “But since I’m mentally prepared now, I’m gonna have to ask you for the details about Blake’s email.”