Lyla p. 3

He actually growled.  or was it a moan?  She wasn’t sure, but she was sure she felt its vibrations right through her shirt and now her breasts were broadcasting the news to everyone in sight.

Even old dickless Denny noticed her alertness as they walked by his dumpy hot dog stand.  She shot him daggers with her eyes, and Damien simply gave him the finger as they walked past.  She liked that, Damien sticking up for her like that.

They confidently found their spots in the stands, and she dutifully heckled the visiting team and cheered on her own.  She knew them all by name and numbers, and some of them would give her a wave when they cleared home plate.  She loved it.  She loved that they knew she loved the team.

Something positive.  Predictable.  Fun.  Normal.  Good.

She liked it.

As the game neared the end, and her beloved team had no chance of recovering the game, Damien leaned in.  “I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.”

Yeah, she was too.  For a taste of his lips.  His skin, the feel of his chest on hers.

“Ravenous,” she replied.

“Good.  Let’s go.”

They hit up an Italian joint on the way back, and she wondered where he had parked his car.  She could walk, but she wondered where he lived.  So she asked.

“Just north of town.  I have a place at Lotterdale Towers.”

Lotterdale Towers was a fancy name for the tall apartment complex well known for crime and trouble.

She didn’t like trouble.

She was trying very very hard to stay away from trouble.

“Oh,” was all she could manage to say.  He put down his fork and leaned in, gently asking, “is everything all right?”

She shook her head in a vain attempt to clear the memories of the people she knew from Lotterdale Towers.  Unkind people, the kind of unfriendly you don’t want to know for long.  If at all.  Definitely not at all.

He reached across and took her hand in such a kind of caring way she knew she didn’t deserve.  It was time to ditch this joint.  Bad idea.  Erase.  Back up.  Getty on up and getty on out.

She stood, offered to pay for dinner, and when she saw she had offended him, she recanted the offer, dropped his hat on the table in front of him and headed for the door.

Home was only three blocks away.  Why did three blocks seem like three miles on trembling legs?

She just needed to get three blocks to her safe apartment where she could breathe.  Breathe safe, good air.  And remind herself to behave.

She made it within twenty feet of her apartment before he caught up to her.  Damn it.  Shit.

Shit Shit Shit.

“Hey, I don’t know what’s going on in that brain of yours, but I’d love to find out.”

She was breathing hard.  She was out of breath, but she was more than fit for that hike.

She shook her head no, made it to the door, and put her key in the lock.

“Thanks for the fun night.  It was amazing, really, but I….” she was cut off when his lips crushed hers.  It was a kind of kiss that said more than a thousand words could.  It said shut up, relax, you’re safe, and I want to kiss you.  That’s all she needed to hear.  Or feel.


She surrendered to the kiss, her body relaxing into his.  She brought her hand up and was pleased to learn that his hair was in fact long enough to run her fingers through, but not long enough to challenge her blonde curls.  Just perfect.

She pulled back, wanting to read his face, to know that he was as into the kiss as she.  That she hadn’t somehow fooled herself along the way.

She was right.  She smiled, “Thanks for wearing red.  Tellys team color of course.  You’re a good sport” she said as she spun on her heel towards the door.  She looked back over her shoulder as she pulled the handle, “I sure do hope there’s a date number two.”

She was pretty sure her hope was written in black marker across her forehead, “PLEASE SAY YES.”

She waited for his slow, measured response, when she heard it.

The roar of an engine.

Not just any engine, as they all seemed the same to her, except this one.  This engine roar was that of her worst nightmare.  She did not want to be seen.  She felt the blood drain from her face and her feet turn to lead weights as she scampered through the doors quick as lightening, shouting, “Get out of here!  You don’t want to be seen with me!”

Hoping like hell that he would agree.


Daniel wished like hell he would have secured a second date before she sprinted out of sight, but he had the direct feeling that she wouldn’t necessarily accept at this moment.

Something had scared her.  She had looked at the roar of the oncoming vintage camaro with so much fear that her face had paled.  Daniel took note of the license plate, and when it pulled up alongside Tellys, he decided he was due for another drink.


Shit. Piss.  Fuck.

Instead of heeding her advice and running for the hills, Damien had walked right into the lions den.

She paced the floor of her apartment til she had nearly worn a hole through it.  She couldn’t let him get hurt, but he also didn’t need to know about her involvement with the excon that drove the Camaro.  That just would’t bode well for her newly found good girl image.

The image she had intended to keep for life.

She studied the front door of the bar for what seemed like hours, trying to muster the courage or the idea of what to do net.

Until she saw Damien exit.  With him.  Damien was having casual conversation with the devil himself.

Damn it.  Somehow she had wrapped herself back up into this nightmare.  She was awful with men.  How she got wrapped up with the devil she’ll never truly understand.  She just knew she was under his spell til she wasn’t.

But within the year she had fallen for his buddy, apparently.

Well, she had overstayed her welcome in this city.  She didn’t want to get wrapped up with the devil.  She didn’t want to get played by his buddy, either.

In all honesty, she didn’t want Damien to get hurt because of her.  The devil ex was kind of the jealous type, and being seen with her could mean trouble for Damien.

Trouble he could probably handle, since they appeared to be acquaintances, but still, trouble nonetheless.

Shew as over trouble.

She was now, then, necessarily, over Damien.

Bye bye trouble.  Embrace good girl.


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