But who am I to complain or try and correct him?
Myles did what was right, even if he did take it a bit too far. And even though he’s not helping me with my homework at the moment, or listening to me as I talk about how painful these last few months have been, he’s helping me in another way. He’s showing me just how much it turns me on when a real man stands up for me in front of everyone, regardless of the consequences.
Guys like that are hard to find these days, and the problem lies right there in the word ‘guys.’ Guys are the ones that sit at home competing in video game competitions online and looking at Internet porn.
Men are something different. Men protect their women and do what’s right, without being told and whether or not anyone’s looking. It’s not what they do, it’s who they are.
And right now I’m beyond wet, and I want Myles to do something to me that no one else ever has…and I want him to do it to me over and over and over again.
“Let’s go study somewhere else,” Myles says as he returns.
I nod.
He carefully places my books in my backpack and grabs it by the canvas fabric as if it’s nothing. There are multiple hardcover textbooks in there and they’re not exactly light…at least not to me.
But to Miles they’re like nothing…and he makes me feel like everything.
Holding the door open for me as we leave the shop, I accidentally brush past him feeling the heat from his skin and it sends a shot of electricity straight through me.
His long strides allow him to arrive at his Jeep before me, opening yet another door and helping me up and into the passenger seat.
The top’s open and I can see a big bag of soccer balls in the back.
“Did you come here right after practice?” I ask.
“I did.”
Suddenly there’s a crack in the sky and I feel big drops of rain.
“Mind if we run to my place real quick?” he asks. “I didn’t bring the tarp with me. It wasn’t supposed to rain today.”
“Sure,” I say, and he carefully backs up and we take off.
I look in my rearview, seeing a few students’ faces pressed against the glass of the coffee shop, watching us as we leave.
Everyone knows Myles and my dad were best friends, but still…this just feels different. I know people are going to be talking at school tomorrow.
The only question is, will their rumors and accusations about something going on between the two of us be true?
I’m about to find out.
CHAPTER 5
Myles
A crackle of thunder shoots through the air, followed by lightning creasing the sky just before we pulled into my garage.
And then the heavy garage door, my personal version of the vaults of Ft. Knox, closes behind us.
You could hear a pin drop, or in this case my heart beating in my ears.
She’d been so quiet the whole drive and I was starting to wonder if I scared her. It’s just that…if only she knew the truth about how I feel about her, she’d understand why I act the way I do sometimes. Hell, I had a death grip on the steering wheel the whole drive back…and it was longer than expected.
No way was I going to drive straight down Main Street where the whole town could see us. It wasn’t because I didn’t want the world to see her right there in my passenger seat…mine…but because her shirt was quickly soaked and no way was I letting anyone get so much as a glimpse of those rock hard nipples cutting through the wet fabric of her top.
The rain was cold and unrelenting…the coldness like my life before my need for her, and unrelenting just like my need for her ever since she turned eighteen.
“This is my place,” I said, wondering why in the hell my voice sounds like it does right now.
I drum my fingers along the steering wheel, but don’t get out of the seat. I don’t move. And I sure as hell don’t look over at her, knowing how damn perfect she looks right now…knowing that that sweaty soccer uniform was nothing compared to this drenched white top that she’s in now…and how much “trouble” I’d be in if I took one look.
Or more importantly how much trouble she’d be in. I’d go completely savage, ravishing her and unable to stop myself. I know this.
“I know it’s your place, and…maybe it’s not my place to tell you this, to burden you with this, but…”
Complete silence.
Slowly my head turns and I make sure to keep my gaze only on her eyes, but I see pain, as her eyes narrow.
“What happened, beautiful? Just tell me and I’ll make it right.”
Nothing.
“Tell me!” I say, not realizing how loud my voice is, and surprised by how my anger gets the best of me. But when it comes to her…the thought of her being in trouble, in pain, or suffering in any way, I just want to rip that problem off the face of the map and toss it straight to the depths of hell, because anything that bothers her belongs in a fiery pit as far as I’m concerned…facing eternal damnation.