◊ ◊ ◊

   They road on in Alex’s mustang, Derek and Clair sitting in the back.

   Derek lifted back the embroidered sleeve of his shirt and scratched his arm through one of the open pores in his new cast. Crisp, the shirt fit him perfectly.

   Derek didn't like that. He favored the loose comforts of baggy clothes. They would hide any hints of his training. This shirt did the opposite. Clair might notice...

   She was sitting a mere foot away, and he was well aware of that.

   Alex’s advice before they had left the room began poking him annoyingly. “She’s going through her rebound phase,” He had warned, “Grace told me she’s probably going to make a move or somthing tonight.”

   How come, Derek complained quietly when I get the chance with a girl, it always for the wrong reasons?

   He glanced at her. She was looking at him, her face said she was waiting for a response to something.

   “I’m sorry, what?”

   She smiled, playing with a strand of her hair “I said, thank you. For the tuxedo, that time.”

   “Oh that,” he waved it off with his good arm, “Never liked formal stuff anyway.”

   She leaned in close. “A shame,” her voice tickled his ear, “It looked good on you.”

   She smelled, sweet. Intoxicating. Sensual. It was begging him to take a dive and say to hell with the consequences.

   Derek tried distracting himself by tightening the cuffs on his wrists. “Turns out, not as good as it was on you.”

   She giggled. Why can’t I enjoy this? I defiantly deserve it.

   He caught eyes with Alex through the rearview mirror.

   He had an eyebrow raised.

   Derek found his gaze relocked with Clair’s, ignoring the look.

   “You know, I think you ended up convincing me to go to that school.” He tried to whisper coolly through a grin.

   “Oh, I’m not surprised.”

   Large green eyes. They flashed periodically with the passing of each light post on the highway. They were hypnotic.

   “Really? How come?”

   She brushed his arm, letting her fingers trickle down the sleeve, “If I had to convince you…”

   Derek prayed she couldn’t feel the pulse vibrating his arm.

   Alex’s voice cracked the moment, “So, Derek! No questions about where we’re headed?!”

   He was obnoxiously loud, a chiseled smile cut into his face said he knew it too. Derek held in a retort.

   The destination. An obsolete inquiry at this point. Only one place was so closed off from everyone else, and on the ocean’s edge. He had just visited the area a few weeks back. He was a friend of the family after all.

The End

23 comments about this story Feed