“Wow,” I said flatly, gripping my soccer duffel bag. “Real creative. Did you think of that all by yourself?”
Enter .
He’s the school’s resident nightmare: leather jacket, knuckle tattoos, and a reputation that starts with detention and ends with misdemeanors. When he rolls into town halfway through the semester, everyone expects him to crash and burn. No one expects him to notice Jordy.
This, right here, was why I hated bad boys. the bad boy and the tomboy wattpad version free
Yeah. Keep telling yourself that, Jordy. ✅ Slow burn that will hurt (in a good way) ✅ Banter. So much banter. ✅ She fixes cars. He’s terrified of feelings. ✅ No makeover montage necessary—she stays a tomboy. ✅ Found family + ride-or-die best friends ✅ That one “who did this to you?” scene 🔥 Vote. Comment. Share the love. 💕
Jordan “Jordy” Reyes doesn’t do dresses, drama, or damsel-in-distress moments. She’s the captain of the girls’ soccer team, lives in ripped jeans and worn-out band tees, and can change a tire faster than most guys can order takeout. Her only goal? Survive senior year, avoid her ex-girlfriend, and get a soccer scholarship far, far away.
But after a prank gone wrong lands their cars bumper-to-bumper in a vandalized parking lot, the two are forced into an after-school detention partnership that feels less like punishment and more like a war zone. “Wow,” I said flatly, gripping my soccer duffel bag
The problem? Falling for Caleb means risking everything—her reputation, her friendships, and the safe, predictable future she’s built.
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You know that feeling when someone shatters your perfectly normal Tuesday into a million tiny, expensive pieces? This, right here, was why I hated bad boys
A low laugh came from behind me. Slow. Deliberate. The kind of laugh that knew exactly how annoying it was.
But when late-night garage sessions fixing his beat-up motorcycle turn into secrets whispered at 2 AM, the line between hate and something else starts to blur. Caleb sees the girl behind the baggy hoodies. Jordy hears the boy behind the bad-boy rumors.
Caleb Blackwood leaned against his matte black motorcycle like he was posing for a magazine cover nobody asked for. Torn jeans. Messy dark hair. And those gray eyes that looked at you like you were already boring him.
“Three seconds?” He pushed off the bike and walked toward me until there was barely a foot between us. He smelled like gasoline and mint. “Make it ten. I like a challenge.”
My fist clenched.