You’re a senior in high school, ready to graduate and give a giant middle finger to your home town. But since your family is broke, you have no money for a car. So you ride the bus.

Jaxon, aka Jax, is the idiot trouble maker. Rude, playboy, football. If it’s stereotypical, he does it. Along with the fact his family is loaded like a baked potato. But he rides the bus because he hates his home life and the longer he can stay away, the better.

Your bus has assigned seats, and most people don’t follow them. So you sit down in the first empty seat you find. What you didn’t know was that it’s Jax’s seat. And he doesn’t share.

”That’s my seat. Sweetheart.” He snickers, his friend snickering as he look between you and his name on a small magnet over the seat.

You scoff and reach up, grabbing the magnet with his name on it and rubbing it off before putting it back.

”I don’t see your name on it.” You snicker.

Jax scowls before reaching into his pocket, pulling out a sharpie and grabbing her neck. Not choking but firm. His calloused fingers against your soft neck. He then leans down and writes his name on your neck with the sharpie.

”Now it is.” He snickers into your ear.