Heroine

Ch 1 - Welcome to Shady Cove, Try Not to Get Eaten

His bones crunched under the golf club as I brought it down on his ribs. He clutched his side and turned to run. I pulled back again and hit him in the knees, the sound of his cracking bones echoing off the asphalt. He fell to the ground and scrambled to get back up but faltered on his broken leg and rolled to his back.

Lifting his hands up to protect himself from the next blow was cute. The club broke through his fingers like they were toothpicks. I raised the club above my head and slammed it down on the man’s torso over and over again until he was twitching more than moving.

The sound of his groans being muffled by the blood collecting in his throat was like music to my ears. I aimed the club at his ribs again as I swung down on him with all the force I could muster. Anger filled my body with adrenaline, giving me strength I didn’t know I had.

A gurgly whimper escaped his mouth and I responded with manic laughter.

“Let’s see who the bitch is?” I said breathlessly as I bent down to lift the ski mask off his face. Soft brown eyes looked up at me pathetically. He coughed up blood, splattering my already bloody face. I lifted my head to the clear blue sky and laughed even harder. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!”

James. My classmate. Guess he didn’t take the rejection well.

“You MOTHERFUCKER!” I screamed in a violent rage as I kicked him in the balls repeatedly. He passed out and I slammed my heel into his unconscious face a few times for good measure. My heel slipped off his cheek and hit his neck. Whatever cartilage was in his throat gave way under my Converse.

His breathing went from a weak rattle to completely silent.

My chest heaved as I stared down at him and spit on his face. “Fuck you,” I said with the last of my anger.

I dropped his golf club on the blacktop next to his body and walked to his Mercedez. My reflection in the tinted windows caught me like a deer in the headlights. Crimson blood painted my face, only showing my skin underneath where my tears had streaked down my face. My pretty ponytail was lopsided from the struggle, blonde hair dyed red with blood and plastered to my forehead. The bastard had ripped the sleeve of my favorite t-shirt. Blood dripped onto the flowery lettering that read What Excellent Boiled Potatoes.

I moved to the open trunk where James had tried to shove me. Golf clubs poured into the space– my saviors. Those and the fact that he’s a dumbass bitch and missed on his first attempt at chloroforming me.

My hands shook as I searched the trunk for my phone. It fell out somewhere in the struggle. Probably slipped from my pocket somewhere between him trying to smash my face into his bumper and me getting my hands on one of his clubs.

Ding.

The muffled notification I recognized as someone messaging me on Snapchat sounded from under the chloroform rag. A bag with zip-ties, knives, lubricant, and the entire clearance section of an Adult shop spilled out of the trunk onto the cement. I ignored the nightmare duffle bag and grabbed my phone. I dialed the police with trembling fingers.

“911– What’s your emergency?”

“Yo… So, I just killed someone.”

—🩸—

“You’re welcome for letting you live, you deplorable asshat.”

I scratched the eyes out of the black and white photo of James while I muttered to myself like a true nutcase. His dumbass mom took out a full-page ad in the yearbook for a huge collage of her precious boy. The page was littered with pictures of him smiling with all of his friends, accepting awards for golfing, and volunteering at an animal shelter. Pictures of my friends smiling next to his unconscious body in the hospital, showing their support.

“I should have aimed that golf club at your stupid fucking face,” I continued to speak to the massacred yearbook photo. “Can’t believe your bitchass survived…”

“Am I interrupting something?” my mom’s voice called from my bedroom doorway.

I flinched at her sudden presence like I was caught with my hand in the cookie jar. “No!” I yelled before composing myself and smiling sweetly at her. I jumped to my feet and tossed the yearbook on my bed. “Nope... just finished unpacking my books! Do you see my bomb-ass room?” I spread my arms wide in a smug stance. “It’s like the Library of Alexandria up in this bitch.”

“Pretty cool,” my mom offered unenthusiastically.

I ran my fingers along the spines of the books lining nearly every inch of the walls of my new bedroom. It looked more like a chic library than a teenage girl’s room. The previous owner had left behind hundreds of books along with stylish decor we would never have been able to afford back home. I had crammed all of my books in next to the ones already filling the shelves.

“I’m never leaving this room,” I pressed my face against the stacks and smiled to myself.

“Glad you like the new place,” she deadpanned, still standing in the doorway. “We ne—”

"Love,” I corrected. “I love the new place. Did you see I have my own fireplace? A freaking fireplace! And look at this! Speakers! In the walls!”

I blasted Feelin’ Myself by Mac Dre through the room. My hip-hop playlist was the only music that survived the trip. We hadn’t set up the internet in the house yet and there wasn’t any service in the remote town, so I was left with only what I had downloaded on my phone.

"She’s in the building and she’s feeling herself,” I sang and danced along to the song. My mom shook her head and said something but I couldn’t hear her over the loud music. I hopped around my new room, displaying through interpretive dance how much I loved our new house. Running my hands along the sheer white curtains, wearing a soft pink blanket like a wig, using the lamp as a makeshift microphone, etc.

The new room was easily three times as large as my room back in LA. The walls were shades of white and a light dusty pink. There were different floral paintings in gold frames hung in the spots that weren’t covered in books. The arched ceiling was covered in large circular stained-glass windows that flooded the room with light.

A set of soft white couches sat in front of a small fireplace. On the far end of the room was a curved reading alcove with bench seating all the way around and panoramic windows that looked out to the most beautiful sunset I had ever seen.

“I’m so happy!” I ran and jumped on my bed, belly-flopping onto my push white comforter.

The music stopped suddenly.

“Rose!” my mom snapped, drawing my attention—my phone in her hand. Her deep blue eyes mirrored my own in shape and color, although hers were filled with annoyance while mine were permanently alight with playfulness. “We need your help moving more boxes from the truck.”

“Why didn’t you say something earlier?” I asked with a cheeky grin, knowing full well that I never gave her an opportunity. “Quit dickin’ around, mom. We’ve got work to do.” I smirked and jumped off of the bed.

She leveled her eyes on me. My mom was the only person on planet Earth immune to my charms. “I’m exhausted, Rose. It’s getting dark and we don’t have the kitchen boxes in yet.”

“Need to bring in the big guns, huh?” I flexed my tiny arm and kissed my bicep.

I bounded down the stairs, nearly twisting my ankle trying to go down three steps at a time.

“Rose!” my mom screeched, following after me. “Watch it!”

“You got it!” I laughed as I burst out of the front door. Excitement about the new town gave me more energy than I needed, testing my mom’s patience.

The setting sun blanketed everything in a warm glow. I took a deep breath, imagining Shady Cove smelled the way Rivendale probably smelled. The scent of brine and decaying wood in the air blended with the light blossoms of the wisteria that climbed from the front door up to the balcony of my room on the second floor. The sound of the Pacific Ocean crashing against the steep and rocky cliffs was muted by the thick forest that lay between our new house and the cove the town was named after.

The truck groaned as I hopped in the back. I was about to grab a box when my dad poked his head out from behind a mattress that had fallen over.

“Hey, Rosie! Can you give me a hand?” He was a cheerful man, constantly smiling. I likened him to a Golden Retriever— always happy to see me but forgot I existed the moment I wasn’t in the room. I inherited his golden blond hair, unflinching optimism, and crooked pinky toe.

“Did you get stuck again?!” My mom chastised him as we helped him out from beneath the mattress. She was the black cat of the relationship. Intelligent, difficult to please, and usually only ever acknowledged my presence by hissing. I inherited her deep blue eyes, nose for bullshit, and abhorrence for weakness.

We lifted the mattress off of him quickly and my mom examined a red mark on his arm. She was a doctor and loved to fuss over every bump on my injury-prone dad. She sighed as she ran her fingers delicately over the mark that was already disappearing. “I told you to wait while I got Rose.”

“I did,” he defended to her before smiling at me. “How do you like it? Pretty great, right?”

“This place is amazing!” I gushed. “It’s like we live in a Hallmark card. You should see my room. There’s like ten billion books and I have my own bathroom and a walk-in closet and—”

“Yes, it’s great.” My mom cut me off. “Don’t get her started, Greg, she’ll never stop.” She rolled her eyes so hard she could see her brain and smiled. She shook her head, trying to ward off happiness for some reason.

My heart swelled at her smile. She was an incredibly unsentimental woman and cold-blooded as a reptile. I had a terrible habit of feasting on whatever crumbs of affection she offered.

“It’s not just my room, it’s the whole town...” I tried to prolong the conversation. “It’s mind-blowing. I feel like we moved to Middle Earth.”

“This isn’t Harry Potter, Rose,” my mom said with a head shake and another rare smile. “Although, I agree. The town is breathtaking... if you’re into that sort of thing.”

I leveled my eyes on her. “Please don’t tell me you think Middle Earth is from Harry Potter.”

“Geeze, Deni,” my dad scoffed and winked at me. “What kind of loser gets Game of Thrones and Harry Potter mixed up?”

“I’m going to kill the both of you.” I laughed, hoping my dad was rage-baiting me.

“No killing anyone else or we’re going to have to move again!” My dad joked before clearing his throat. “I mean—”

The back of the moving truck became as silent as a crypt. For as much as the incident with James had affected our lives, we never actually talked about it. My mom set me up with a therapist and assumed that if I needed any help I could get it from a professional. Dr. Patel was awesome, but I would have preferred talking to my parents about the whole thing.

In actuality, I was fine. No— I was great. I wasn’t traumatized the way I probably should have been. If anything, I felt safer now. It was statistically improbable that someone would try to kidnap and kill me again. That was more of a once-in-a-lifetime experience.

And as for what I did to him: I felt no remorse whatsoever.

“I would like it to be noted that I didn’t actually kill anyone.” I wagged my finger in front of me. I meant to make light of the subject, but it turned dark as I stupidly kept talking. “And I could have! Could have bashed his worthless head in with that club— easy. Let his brains fertilize the fucking football field.”

My dad blinked at me and swallowed.

My mom’s eyes grew intense and distant and she spoke through clenched teeth. “Sometimes I wish you would have. I swear if I could get my hands around that little worm—”

“Deni—” My dad chuckled nervously.

“I hate that vile boy and his useless parents,” she growled at him. “What kind of terrible parents choose to bury their heads in the sand when their spawn tries to murder a girl? Blaming my kid for their baby rat they call a son?” she ranted, still livid about everything. “And then sending their lawyers after her? And the whole smear campaign that spray-tanned goblin started against our girl?” My mother’s eyes turned darker the more she reminisced about what James’ mom did.

Mrs. Lee was thorough. She posted on every social media outlet she could get her manicured hands on to come after me. She gained quite a following through Facebook rants, claiming that I had planted evidence in James’s car. She made videos talking about how I was unhinged and needed to be committed. My favorites were her TikTok videos of her crying next to his hospital bed with an instrumental overlay. Even after he was prosecuted and I was proven innocent on everything. She was relentless— needing to win in the eyes of the public if not in court.

I applauded her refusal to believe her boy was a fucking creep. I would kill for that kind of support. The lady was teaching a masterclass in denial. But when all of my friends started buying into her nonsense, I began to hate the wretch and her army of lawyers.

Once the campus security footage was leaked, she went silent. I guess it was too hard to dispute video evidence of her little angel sneaking up behind me, trying to chloroform me, and then trying to shove me into his trunk.

I’ll admit, I watched the part where I beat the shit out of him a hundred times. I’d laugh and rewind once I hit the part where I collapsed into a pile of tears in the school parking lot. I didn’t care so much for that part. No, I liked the part where I looked like a badass. A champion.

A heroine.

“No. You can’t just throw money at everything and expect it to turn your diseased frog into a prince,” my mom continued to vent, snapping me out of my reverie. “Despicable, useless little creature. I’m glad she beat him into a bloody pulp. It was better than what he deserved.”

I stared at my mom as she glared at the air. She had never told me how she felt about everything. Neither had my dad. They just kept quiet, waiting for me to break down at some point.

I never did.

“OK! I think we could use a break, actually.” My dad clapped his hands, snapping my mom and me out of our thoughts. “I’m hungry. You hungry?”

My mom took a breath of the fresh, woodland air and seemed to revert entirely back to her clinical self. “You think there’s a chance an In-N-Out is one of the three buildings we saw on the way in?” she asked sardonically.

“Let’s check,” my dad smirked and helped her out of the back of the truck.

I jumped down behind them, about to get in the car when my dad waved to me. “See you later, Rosie!”

“Don’t kill anyone while we’re out,” my mom winked at me before she closed the car door.

I stopped walking as if I was hit with an invisible brick wall lying between me and my parents.

“Bye...” my voice called after the VW Beetle as they pulled out of the driveway.

As I stared at the space where we were just standing, I felt a sinking feeling in my stomach. Why didn’t they think I wanted to go with them? I hadn’t eaten since breakfast, just like them. Why, when everything seemed to be going so well, did they still keep me at arm’s length?

Why am I making such a big deal about this?

I cleared the lump in my throat and laughed at my watering eyes. Among my many annoying traits, I had a habit of feeling everything too much. It was my gift and my curse to feel so strongly. When I was happy, I was ecstatic. When I was sad, I was devastated. I wasn’t sure if I had ever been flustered, but I’d definitely been irate. I didn’t dislike— I loathed. I didn’t like— I adored. Disappointment turned my bones to ice and anger turned my blood to lava. I couldn’t even feel numb like a normal person. When I felt nothing, I felt it with my entire body.

I ignored my growling stomach and decided to try and carry boxes in from the moving truck while they were away. It would be a nice surprise for them when they got back.

As I carried box after box into the house, the sky changed from a beautiful peach color to a lovely lilac. The lilac deepened to a dark purple and stars began to cover the night sky like a painter had sprayed white flecks generously onto his dark canvas. I lifted my eyes to the beauty of the night, forgetting all of my troubles as I took in the vastness of the universe. The LA light pollution was criminal if this was what was hiding behind the gray night sky I was used to.

I walked across my lawn onto the deserted road that led to the town. Trees crowded the dirt road, blocking my view of the stars. I walked until the trees parted enough for me to see a large patch of sky. I stood in a clearing on the edge of the woods, admiring the celestial beauty I had never seen in person before.

This place is magical.

I took a deep breath of the pristine Oregon air as I stared at the moon. I listened to the crickets sing their songs, understanding for the first time why they sang all night. I wanted to sing as well, but my voice was trash and I didn’t want to disturb the peace of the night— or get caught pretending I was the main character and find myself going viral for being a freak twice in one year.

The crickets stopped abruptly and the silence was jarring. I looked to the sky again, waiting for an airplane to fly over and remind me I wasn’t alone on the planet, but there was nothing. The strangest feeling I was being watched slipped into my senses, chilling my bones.

A shadow crept in the corners of my eyes and I turned to the wilderness that bordered my street, finding nothing but trees and darkness... until one of the trees shifted in my periphery.

My eyes snapped to the shadow that I swore had just moved. It stood still as a statue now, like my eyes were holding it in place and the second I turned my back it would move again. I held my breath as I stared at the dark shape, trying to reason with myself while my eyes focused.

This isn’t a horror movie, Rose. Get a grip. It’s just a tree.

I was about to laugh at myself when the thing dropped to all fours and lurked deeper into the wilderness that bordered the clearing. Fear crawled up my spine like a living thing at the way it moved. Its body was unnaturally hunched with long, spiny legs. The disfigured creature shifted awkwardly from one foot to the next as it disappeared into the shadows and further out of my limited sight.

Fuck this shit!

I didn’t waste any time wondering about the species of the animal. I booked it in the opposite direction of the creature, hoping I could get back to my house before it caught up to me. I found my way back to the road instantly, but it was so dark, I could hardly see where I was going and slammed straight into someone.

“Are you well, miss?” A deep British voice spoke.

"BEAR!!” I screamed at them, grabbing their hand and running toward my house.

We sprinted toward my house hand in hand. The warm lights from inside lit up the perfectly manicured lawn. The words bears can climb faster than they can run flashed into my mind as we darted across the yard and straight through my front door.

I slammed the door behind us imagining a growling beast on the other side of the two inches of wood. I pressed my ear up against it to listen for something, but there was only silence. Just my own heavy breathing and nothing else could be heard. The door didn’t have a peephole and I went to lock it, but there was no lock.

“What the hell?” I blinked at the door in confusion.

“You saved me,” a deep voice spoke from behind me.

I turned around to face my rescuee.

“Holy shit,” I blurted.

The young man was tall, dark, and painfully handsome. He wore a black designer suit tailored to do him more favors than he was owed. His clothes were so dark they seemed to suck in light. Everything was pitch black, even the ring that looked like a dragon coiled around his pinky finger. His silky, jet-black hair was styled back with a few wavy locks falling strategically on his forehead, contrasting his pale-olive skin. Sharp features intensified his dark eyes which studied me with amusement. I was struck by his obsidian eyes, so dark there was no difference between the pupil and the iris. I felt rooted to the spot as his gaze met mine— like a magnet held me in place.

“I don’t believe I’ve ever been a damsel in distress before. What an interesting turn of events.” He smiled, revealing straight white teeth that glistened in the light. His English accent was so smooth that it seemed to caress my brain with every word. “Is this the part where I thank my savior with a kiss?” His ebony gaze moved to my lips with interest before he grabbed my hand and kissed it. His lips hovered over my knuckles. “My name is Drake. It is my pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

“Hi...” I stared at him, forgetting what I was supposed to be doing for a moment. “Oh my gosh, the bear!” I ran upstairs muttering to myself as I dug through my things looking for my phone. “Teenage hormones are on one. See a nice jawline and boom— what bear? Rose, you dumbass.”

“Who are you talking to?”

I turned around to find he had followed me. He looked around my room critically before staring at me. He was completely out of place in the girly room. Like if the Grim Reaper were to show up on an episode of Peppa Pig.

“You,” I lied terribly. I tried to look up the number for Animal Control but there was no Internet and no service. ”Kill me,” I sighed.

“Excuse me?” he asked with an eyebrow raised and a smirk playing on his cupid’s bow.

“Can you call Animal Control, please?”

“Animal what?” he asked.

“The people with the big nets and weird sticks. We have to warn them before that thing attacks someone and I don’t have service. There was something seriously wrong with that bear. If it even was a bear.” I shivered at the thought of it. “I didn’t get a good look at it but it was so skinny— like it was seriously malnourished and rabid. And it had something sticking out of it.” I gestured, mimicking spikes coming out of my shoulders. “I bet it got injured or something. Why else would it look like that?”

He looked down at my hands fumbling with my useless phone. I was shaking with adrenaline. He grabbed my hands in his and smiled knowingly.

“I wouldn’t worry about the bear.” His cold hands gripped mine firmly. “There are all kinds of creatures prowling around the borders of Shady Cove. They’re usually much more frightened of us than we are of them.”

“Oh,” Goosebumps covered my skin at the stranger’s touch. “There was something wrong with it, though. I think it’s sick or something. I bet my dad would know what to do— he’s a veterinarian.” I tried to pull my hands out of his but he held me in place.

“It’s probably long gone,” he said, his voice like silk, soothing and reassuring. His eyes met mine and I felt the magnet again. “No need to chase after it now.”

I calmed down almost in an instant. Something about the way he said it so confidently convinced me. I nodded in agreement. He broke eye contact to look at my hands, then my neck, landing finally on my lips. His eyes left a trail of flames on my skin everywhere they went.

“You’re not from here,” he stated more than asked. He let go of my hands and looked around the room.

I gestured to the moving boxes still littered throughout the room. “You must be a detective,” I smirked, trying to seem cooler than I was. “We just got here a few hours ago. I’m sure I’ll get used to what to make a big deal out of soon enough... I’m surprised bears don’t make the list, though.” I laughed to myself.

He made a satisfied face, turning away from me to look at my bookshelves. “What brings you to Shady Cove? Are you here for The Games?”

“My parents got a job,” I answered as I watched him walk the perimeter of my room. “What games? The X-Games?” I beamed, thinking about how cool it would be to watch a motocross competition in person.

He pulled a book from a shelf and smiled at it. “May I borrow this?”

“Frankenstein?” I smiled at the book and stepped toward him. “Yeah, totally. Mary Shelly is a legend.”

“Is she your favorite author?” he asked, turning to me with a light smile.

“No... That’d be Jane Austen. She’s the GOAT.” I laughed. “Pride and Prejudice and Emma fight to the death on a regular basis for first place in my head. What about you?”

He cocked his head at me. “You have a lovely home. I take it you like to read.”

“Like is an understatement,” I laughed and stood next to him in front of my found family of books. “I don’t know what I would do without these guys.” I touched the spines of my most worn volumes.

Truthfully, my books were more than just paper to me. They were my friends when I needed them. They were my second lives when I needed to forget my own. They were my family when I felt I had none. I hated to feel alone so I surrounded myself with my favorite people constantly. If I wanted a witty person, I would spend the afternoon with Elizabeth Bennett. Jo March could always get me through if I needed someone to make me feel at home. Raskolnikov reminded me things could always be much worse if I was in a self-pitying mood. And whenever I wanted to go on an adventure with old friends, I knew a wizard and some hobbits who were always down to party.

“You’re certainly going to be an interesting addition to The Games.” His smooth voice interrupted my happy and sad thoughts.

“Oh, I’m not competing,” I laughed. “I’m not exactly an athlete. It’s not that I’m out of shape, but I completely lack the natural competitive drive to do well at that sort of thing. My only goal when playing sports is to have fun and make friends.” I rambled. “Although, I’m great at trash talk!”

“How positively un-American,” He stepped away from me toward my bed, picking up the yearbook I had left out. “Who is this?” He pointed at the black and white photos of James with his eyes scratched out in every single one.

“Oh!” I forced a laugh and snatched the yearbook out of his hands. “No one. Just some idiot I went to school with.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You wish to gouge out his eyes?”

“I’d take more than just the asshole’s eyes if you know what I mean.” I cleared my throat, remembering I was trying to play it cool. “I just mean— He’s a dick.”

“Did he break your heart?” he asked with a smirk playing on his lips.

I barked out a laugh. “Uh, no. No, he didn’t.” I rolled my eyes. “My heart isn’t so easy to break.”

His gaze moved to my chest like he could see with his own eyes what my heart looked like. “Have you ever been in love?”

A million times, I thought. I fell in love with Mr. Darcy, and Kaz Brekker, and Aragorn, and Cardan, and Robin Hood, and Odysseus, and Jon Snow, and a hundred other men.

“Nope,” I laughed. “Haven’t met my soulmate yet.”

“How do you know?” he interrupted my thoughts, a devilish smile playing on his lips.

“Just a hunch.”

I had pictured the moment a hundred times in my head. We would lock eyes and time would stop. He would look at me and see his future and I would look at him and see a love so epic it could bring kingdoms to their knees. Time would stop and we would ride into the sunset, dancing and—

“Perhaps you’re meeting him now,” he stepped toward me. The backs of my knees hit the edge of my bed. “I’m starting to feel like you running into me was fate.”

An involuntary squeak escaped my throat as I realized what was happening: a strange, gorgeous man in my bedroom. Flirting. Alone.

Fucking hell, he even closed the door.

I sidestepped him and put some more distance between us. “Destiny... fate... a narrow road where two people were walking in opposite directions in the dark.” I laughed. “What were you doing out there?”

“Same as you,” he answered, playing with the copy of Frankenstein in his hand. “Looking at something beautiful.”

I let out a light chuckle. “How old are you?”

“How old are you?” he asked.

“Seventeen.” I cringed, knowing he had to be at least twenty.

“How delightful. I am also seventeen,” he said smoothly. He stepped toward me and ran a lock of hair through his fingers. “You see? It’s meant to be. After all,” he leaned in. “You did save my life from that bear. I should properly thank you.”

I glanced at his red lips, hiding those pearly whites behind them. “I’ll take your eternal servitude instead. How’s that sound?” I joked.

“Not as nice,” he mused. “But I’m happy to get on my knees.”

I choked on the saliva in my mouth. “That’s not— I don’t— I mean—”

Words escaped me for the first time in my life. Where was my confidence? Where was my wit? It evaporated the moment this mafia-romance face claim started flirting with me. I inhaled and became myself again.

“You are seriously so pretty. The suit and the hair and the eyes and... that accent really tips the scales. But I’m not going to do whatever it is you want to do.” I wrinkled my nose and smiled.

“What is it you think I want to do?” He looked at me amused and for a moment I worried I was reading the room wrong.

Nah. This dude wants me.

“Perhaps I was trying to steal a kiss or two. I mean, you did save my life. Your heroism is quite... captivating.” He winked and backed up. “But I understand your hesitation. Perhaps the atmosphere isn’t romantic enough?” The stranger gestured around the cluttered room.

“Yeah, where are the flowers, man?” I joked, taking a much-needed breath of air. “There’s not even any music, let alone the string quartet I pictured. And fireworks,” I teased.

“Don’t forget the candles.” He smiled. “And poetry. Something about how you look like a crown. Eyes like sapphires... Hair like gold... lips like rose quartz. I don’t know... when I look at you I see a crown.”

I chewed my cheek and felt a blush rushing up my neck. “Wow... British game is seriously next level. You must rake it in.”

He stepped closer to me, his silky voice dropping an octave. “What do you mean?”

I backed away slightly, wondering what I was going to do with the luxury car model in the middle of my bedroom. He looked at me like he was wondering what to do with me as well.

My stomach growled, interrupting my thoughts. I laughed, feeling light headed from low blood sugar. “Hey, are you hungry? You want to grab something to eat?”

“I would love to have you for dinner.” Something raw hid underneath his velvet voice. His gaze dropped to my lips and I thought he was going to kiss me. I panicked for a moment but he backed away. “But I have some business to attend to. I regret that I must be going.”

“Oh,” I blinked and then laughed at myself for the millionth time. I was starting to sound like a hyena. “Yeah, of course. Sorry I kidnapped you.”

“No apology necessary.” He grinned. “I would love to be kidnapped by you again sometime.”

“Be careful what you wish for.” I snickered. “I could be a serial killer for all you know.”

“That’s not exactly a deal breaker.” He grabbed my hand and kissed it again.

I bit my lip and stifled a laugh. “Seriously... you could teach classes on flirting. It was so nice to meet you... What was your name, again?”

“Drake,” he reminded me and dropped my hand. “Can you believe I don’t know your name yet?”

“Rose,” I smiled.

"Rose,” he held my name on his tongue like he was tasting it. “So fitting. Until we meet again.” He opened my bedroom door and stepped out.

I smiled and shook my head. “See you later, Romeo.”

“Good night, Juliet.”

I stood in the middle of my room for a moment after he left, my mouth agape. I ran to the window to watch him walking across my lawn. He turned around suddenly and looked straight up at me. I ducked down quickly, hitting my head on the bench on my way out of sight.

Laughter erupted from my chest at what a complete and total dork I was. I rubbed my forehead lying flat on the floor, wondering if he saw me looking at him.

Shady Cove is going to be awesome.