His back and shoulders flexed under tanned skin. A black tattoo—was it a bird?—was on one of his shoulder blades. There was a bruise on his side, too, but she couldn’t make herself wonder about it. The guy’s dark hair was in his face as he tugged hard at a holly bush, yanking it from the ground.
Look at those arms. Faith stared, her mouth open. Who was he?
The holly bush gave way and he tipped back, dirt flying. Faint laughter drifted up through her window as he climbed to his feet with his prize, and she caught a look at his face.
She gasped. Holy crap, that was Kyle Sawyer. The stories she’d heard about him were numerous, and if a quarter were true, he was not the kind of guy she’d want to talk to. He shoplifted, vandalized buildings, drank, hung out with college students—girls. College girls. And rumor had it he ran illegal street races with his Charger.
So why did he look like he was having a blast ransacking her backyard? He had an awfully nice smile for such a bad boy.
A thought exploded in her brain—wait a minute…bad boy. Kyle was the one guy at Suttonville High who’d seen enough action to have his own lore. His exploits were darker than sin, and being with him was an instant reputation-killer for any girl at Suttonville.
This was it. Kyle would be her revenge.
Chapter Seven
Kyle
That holly tree hadn’t wanted to leave the ground, but he conquered it. Sure, it had gone down fighting, scratching his arm with one of its barbed leaves, and he still won. Grinning at the mess—his chest was speckled with dirt, and he probably had some in his hair, too—he broke down the branches and tossed it into his mulch pile.
He wiped a hand across his forehead and went to gulp down water from the thermos he brought from home. It was after noon from the position of the sun, and his stomach growled. He needed to clean up a little and go grab some lunch. He’d made a good start, though.
The back door banged shut and he turned, expecting Mrs. Gladwell to be checking on his progress. Instead, a tall, slender girl with huge brown eyes and brown hair up in a bun walked his way.
No, she didn’t walk. She glided. A dancer—her movements would’ve told him that, even if she hadn’t been wearing a black leotard with shorts pulled over it. And she was headed straight for him. Hurriedly, he brushed the dirt off his chest. It smeared with his sweat, leaving streaks of mud across his pecs. Great. Just awesome. Now he couldn’t even put on his shirt to cover it up without using a hose.
“You’re Kyle Sawyer,” she said, no trace of doubt in her voice.
Based on her wary expression, his reputation preceded him. “Yep. And you are?”
“Faith. Faith Gladwell.”
She frowned, but she couldn’t hide the quick glance at his chest. Was it the dirt that had her attention? Or was it him? He bit back a smile. Maybe he didn’t need the shirt after all.
She blushed when she noticed him watching her and pointedly looked around at the holes dotting the ground. “Why are you tearing up my backyard?”
“Your mom asked me to,” he said. Yeah, because that wasn’t a stupid answer. Dumbass. “I’m fixing it up for her.”
Faith walked over to peer at the pile of branches and dug-up plants. “Really? Because it looks like an F2 tornado went through here.”
He shrugged. “Sometimes you have to make a mess to fix one.”
“You’re telling me,” she muttered.
“What?”
She shook herself. “Nothing.”
But it wasn’t nothing—he could tell by the way her jaw was clenched. This girl was on the verge of tears. He knew pain when he saw it. “Something wrong? Or are you worried I might be vandalizing your yard?”
She laughed, then looked stunned by it. “You’re funny.”
He couldn’t help smiling. It wasn’t often a girl told him that. “I try. You okay?”
“Not really.” She bit her lip, and he found it mesmerizing. Faith was a pretty girl, he had to admit. She caught him looking, and a little smirk twitched at the corner of her mouth. “Actually, I came out here to ask you for a favor.”
“Me?”
“Yeah, you.” She sat down on the patio steps and motioned for him to sit next to her. “I have a problem, and you might be the solution.”
He took a seat, curious, but careful to keep his expression neutral. He didn’t need her thinking he was interested. That wasn’t his style, or so he let everyone believe. “I’m listening.”
“This is kind of weird…just hear me out, ’kay?”
“I like weird.”
Faith laughed. “Yeah, I guessed that already. Anyway, my boyfriend and I broke up last night. Now he’s telling everyone he dumped me because I’m…” She blinked fast, and her face flushed. “Because I’m a coldhearted bitch. Or so he says, because I wouldn’t sleep with him. The truth is I caught him in bed with Holly Masterson.”
“God, his taste is pathetic if he went after that girl.” Kyle shook his head. Holly always looked at him like he was gum on her shoe, and in every class they’d shared, she had a tendency to play dumb, which he didn’t find cute whatsoever. “She’s not the nicest person in the world.”