Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1

Chrissy

5 years ago…

P OP!

What was that? My body jerks in the seat and my hands jerk the steering wheel right along with it. The car swerves into the left lane but I manage to gain control and get back into the right. Shit! Something's definitely wrong. It's wobbling in all directions.

"No! No! No! No! No! This can't be happening right now." I turn my signal on and pull to a stop on the side of the road. As soon as I step outside, the cause of the loud noise is staring me in the face. This seriously can't be happening right now. Dad's going to kill me if I'm late, and I don't have a freaking clue how to change a tire.

Calling roadside service is out of the question because they always take over an hour to come which is definitely not going to work. I'd call the police for assistance, but Dad will just get wind of what's happened and then he'll punish me for my poor use of the taxpayers' dollars because "officers are supposed to be using their time catching criminals, Chrissy, not changing tires." So that's not an option either. Unfortunately, I think my only choice is to change the thing myself or else I'll be suffering the consequences. Which means I'm going to have to figure this out. And fast.

I pull up the first how-to video on my phone. Five minutes later, I'm dragging the spare tire from the trunk. According to the clock, I now have only thirty minutes to turn into She-Woman and change my tire— which is seriously like making a miracle happen.

Normal people would be able to call their fathers for help when something goes wrong, but if I call Dad, he'll blow a fuse and make my life even more miserable. He'll ground me for as long as he sees that his punishment fits the crime and then slowly he'll start bribing me with my freedom again. So, no, I can't call my father for help. Or for anything. Ever.

"Come on, you little suckers." The metal things aren't even budging an inch. How am I supposed to get the new tire on when I can't even get the old one off? I place the bar on the metal cap again, but it doesn't even fit properly. I try to turn it but end up stumbling backwards and landing on my butt. The tears start filling my eyes and the fear begins to creep its way in.

I so do not want to deal with dad's wrath.

Suddenly, the low rumble of an engine blares through my thoughts and comes to a stop right behind my car. I look up and see a man parking his motorcycle. He climbs off and starts walking toward me. Maybe this is where that whole stranger-danger thing should kick in, but all that's kicking in is the thought that I've never seen a man so tall or so good-looking in all my life. And that's exactly what he is: all man.

I'm used to the boys my age. Even at eighteen, some of the guys still haven't gone through their final growth spurts yet. But the guy who's now standing above me, blocking the sun with his huge frame, has definitely been through all of his. He has to be well over six feet tall. And that tall body is all muscle. His mouth tips up in a crooked grin and my eyes follow the movement right up to his dark, dreamy eyes which are staring right down at me.

"Looks like you need some help, babe."

Oh, that voice. And those words. Right now, I could use a whole lot of help. I've never had such a physical reaction to a guy before and I can't even think beyond how good looking he is. Finally, I find my voice and speak, but the words come out breathless.

"Yeah…um…I can't get them off. I tried. But they're stuck. And I have to be somewhere in like twenty minutes." I'm rambling, and staring, and no doubt coming across as the eighteen-year-old dork I am. I finally move to stand, and ever a gentleman, he offers me his hand and helps me up. Right as I get to my feet, I'm lifted in his arms and being carried to the other side of my vehicle where he places me back down.

"That's better. Couldn't stand the thought of you getting hit by a car. Now, you stay right here, angel, and I'll get that tire changed for you." And not only is he incredibly strong, but he's sweet and thoughtful, too. And now I'm swooning even more.

He hurries to the other side of my vehicle and I quickly rush to check my mirror and make sure I don't look like a total hot mess. My makeup is long gone from cheering in the game, and my hair is still tied in place with the ribbon. Shoot…could I look any younger? This guy has to be in his early twenties and I still look like a middle schooler.

"All set, angel," that deep voice rumbles again as he comes back around to my side of the vehicle. He's wiping his dirty hands off on his shirt. His abs coming into view as he lifts the material to clean himself with. I think I'm going to need to change my panties as soon as I get home. Wow, his stomach is hard and rippled, and there's a sexy line of hair running right down to his…

"Did you hear anything I said, babe? Looks like you were a little distracted." Shit! He caught me staring and drooling, and now I feel like even more of an idiot. He's probably used to sexy women playing hard to get, and here I am acting like a little girl crazed with a crush.

"I said you can drive on it today, but you're going to have to take it in tomorrow to get your other tire replaced. You don't want to be out on the road without a spare. Now, will you do that for me, angel?"

For him? I'll do anything for him. Why he needs me to deal with my car for him I don't know, but I appreciate his concern for my safety.

"I will." I force the breathless words out. "Thank you so much…um…sorry, what is your name?"

"Sean." And, of course, his name is just as sexy as the rest of him.

"Thank you, Sean, for stopping and for helping. I really appreciate it. Can I pay you for your time?" I'm not sure what the proper etiquette is in this situation, but I feel like I should offer him something.

He shakes his head. "Nah, babe. I don't want your money, but you can return the favor."

Return the favor? I look over at his bike and back. I don't know how to change a tire on my own car, let alone his motorcycle. My eyes must relay my confusion because he chuckles and shakes his head.

"I mean with your time. You can give me some of your time. By the way, what's your name, angel?"

Time. He wants to spend time with me? Now, I truly am struggling to get the words out. "Oh! Um…it's Christina, but I usually go by Chrissy."

I hate the name Christina. My dad is the only one who calls me by it, and when Dad calls me by that name, it always means I've done something to make him mad. Speaking of my father, I'm running late and have no time to give Sean right now, or else I'll be dealing with dad's wrath. Sean would be worth it, but then I'd never get to see him again because I'd be grounded long enough for him to forget all about me.

"I would, but I have this dinner I have to go to for my dad. He'll be mad if I'm late. I'm sorry. I'm really not trying to get out of returning the favor; I just can't right now."

Here the hottest guy I've ever laid eyes on is asking to spend some time with me and I'm not going to be able to. Again, maybe my alarm bells should be going off and I should be driving away, or asking what exactly he means by "spending time with me," but nothing about the kind, beautiful man is giving me the creeps or making me feel nervous. He isn't at all scary like my own father. But then again, I've seen all the true crime shows and some of the worst criminals seemed like the nicest people to everyone who knew them, so I should behave smarter than this. Thankfully, there are a ton of cars on the road right now and I could flag someone down if I needed to.

"I didn't mean right now, angel."

Oh, he's talking about spending time with me later . Well, in that case, I can play it smart by making sure we're in a public place. Although, everything I want to do with the man before me would require privacy.

"Shit." He suddenly looks alarmed. "I should have asked first instead of assuming, but please tell me you're eighteen?"

My cheeks tip right up into a smile. I don't think he'd be worried about my age if he wasn't interested in me. Again, I have to clamp down my body's excitement. I nod my answer, thankful he assumed right about my age and didn't think I was sixteen.

His eyes seem to grow darker in response to my answer. Those same eyes begin to travel down my outfit and cause a shiver to run through my body. It feels like he's checking me out.

"You go to Royal?" Or maybe he was just reading my shirt.

I nod reluctantly, embarrassed by my answer. I'm at the uppity private high school that's known for its undefeated football team and all the rich assholes who go there. I don't want the gorgeous man before me to think I'm like them. I'm not. And if I had my choice, I would be attending the public school with the nice people. The people I feel more comfortable around.

"I graduated from Rickshaw High five years ago. You guys were our number one rival then. Thanks to me, we took home the championship my senior year."

So that means he's approximately twenty-three years old if he graduated five years ago. I was right about him being in his twenties. But I never pegged the dangerous-looking man covered in tattoos who drives a really cool motorcycle to have been a football player. He is not at all like the snooty jocks I know. Then again, he went to the public high school.

I cross my arms, raising my brow teasingly. Finding myself in full on flirt mode. "Thanks to you? I happen to cheer on the sidelines if you hadn't noticed,"—I look down at my uniform and back up— "and there's an entire team involved in the game. It's never just one guy playing on the field."

He lets out a deep rumbly chuckle as he steps closer, making it harder for me to think and breathe. And making me have to tilt my chin even farther back to look up at him. Man, he really is tall. And those eyes…

"Oh, I noticed, angel. Definitely noticed. What I meant was I scored the winning touchdown. And you're right, babe, it was thanks to the entire team, but I was trying to impress you so you'd take notice yourself. Guess I just sounded like an arrogant ass instead."

The butterflies in my stomach start fluttering in a swarm. He's trying to impress me. Me. The biggest dork at Royal. Honestly, if it weren't for my last name, I wouldn't have even made the cheerleading squad. But my dad's reputation has people bowing down before him and giving me certain privileges they'd rather not. Not that I'm not good at cheering, I just don't fit their usual mold. Sure, blonde, pretty, and rich are all part of their checklist, but they also want bitchy, shallow, and conniving. All of which I'm not.

"You didn't sound like an ass; you just sounded a bit cocky."

His nostrils flare, and he takes another step toward me, removing even more of the oxygen in my lungs. One more inch and we'll be touching.

"I am cocky, angel. But it's not just the head attached to my shoulders that's big."

Oh wow. This totally hot guy is flirting with me. Again, maybe those red flags should be flying all around me, but they refuse to even raise in my thoughts. I'm completely drawn to this guy, and the only thing raising is my temperature. I'm about to break into a sweat.

"Look, babe, you need to get going so you're not late to that dinner, and I have to get to work, so why don't you give me your number and we'll table this conversation for the next time we see each other." We're going to see each other again. It's not even a question.

The wild giddiness in me wants to burst out on a giggle, but I have to play it cool. I don't want to act like the total desperate dweeb I truly am. Because the real Chrissy Pratwick does not get asked out by boys. Not unless they want something from me, more like want something from my dad. Therefore, I've never had a boyfriend before. But given this stranger doesn't know my last name, for once, I'm being judged for me and not for who my father is.

"Um…okay." I pull out my phone with shaking hands and hand it over to him. He takes it from me and starts typing. I hear his phone ring from his pocket and realize he must have just called himself. When he hands me my phone back, there's a sweet smile plastered on his face. His hand comes up and lightly grips my waist, giving me a gentle squeeze.

"Relax, angel. You don't have anything to be nervous about with me. I promise I don't bite. Well…" He pauses and a sexy, sly grin forms on his perfect kissable lips. "Maybe, I'll nibble a little. But only if you want me to and only when you're ready."

Okay, this guy is so far out of my league. I'm about to pass out from the heat coursing through my veins. Would me asking him to nibble on me right now come across as too desperate? Probably. I need to play hard to get. I need to keep my inner dweeb locked down and not act so thirsty.

"We'll see, Mr. Cocky. It's still to be determined whether I let your lips anywhere near me or not."

His grip on my waist tightens and he yanks me right against him in one quick movement. And, wow, he was not lying about being cocky.

"You're definitely going to be letting me get my lips on you, baby. And once I do, I promise I'll have you begging for more."

Yep, I'm pretty sure he's right about that one because I'm about to drop to my knees and beg him right now to give me my first kiss.

"Now, save my number in your phone, angel, so when I call you later, you'll know it's me. And by the way, babe"—he grips my chin and leans down to where we're at eye level—"if you have any boys chasing after you at school, tell them to get lost. You and I are definitely going to be spending more time together. A lot more time together. And I don't plan on sharing. Ever."

I'm not sure what comes over me, but the next thing I know, I'm reaching for the back of his neck, pulling him forward, and pressing my mouth to his. And as soon as we connect, I know he's right. I'll be begging for more. I'll be begging for so much more.

His lips softly start moving over mine and when I let out a soft little noise which sounded more like a baby kitten crying and not at all like a sexy woman, his tongue slips inside my mouth and gets acquainted with mine. I'm pretty sure this is not how first kisses usually go. Because nothing about this is awkward, or sloppy, or bad. This kiss is hot, sexy, and completely addictive. He's not even done kissing me and I already want to beg for more.

"Damn, babe." He pulls back, and I almost groan at the loss but then remember that I really do have to get going or else I won't get to see him again until my jail sentence with my father is over, and that would be the worst punishment I've ever had to face in my life. "I think I was wrong, angel. It's going to be me doing the begging here."

My eyes flutter open, and I feel the heat drawing to my cheeks. "I'm not opposed to begging. I think I'd like to see you on your knees, begging and…kissing me." Not sure where the smooth words come from, but I managed not to sound like a total dork. I actually sounded sexy.

"Fuck! You talking like that, angel, is going to get me into trouble. Not only did the heavens bring me an angel today, but they brought me the most perfect one to ever exist. Now, look, babe. You're going to take off for that dinner of yours, and I'm going to head to work. But later, I'm going to call you to find out when I can see you again." He kisses my forehead, causing more flutters. "And you better not make me wait."

My stomach is doing a million somersaults as I struggle not to burst out into a giddy giggle fit. I can't believe this is happening.

"Now, let me watch you get in that car of yours and see you blow me a kiss goodbye. And then when I call you later, make sure you pick up. I won't be able to sleep tonight without hearing my sweet girl's voice. Understood?"

Never in my wildest dreams or fantasies did I imagine a guy like him. I always imagined teenage boys awkwardly trying to make a move just like I've witnessed time and time again at school. I never pictured smooth, sexy, and smoking hot. But Sean—he's all of that and more. I nod and lean up onto my toes one last time, giving his bottom lip a kiss and a quick little nibble of my own. Reluctantly, I pull back and turn. Then, I do exactly as he asked. I get in my car, start the engine, and then blow him a kiss as I slowly drive away.

I watch in my rearview mirror as the gorgeous man looks to the sky like he's offering a silent prayer of thanks and then climbs onto his bike. And on my way home, I offer my own thanks. It feels like my life has just been altered. Like I'm no longer going to live in hell. It feels like I may have just met my one.