"What are you doing?" I yelled at David.
David's eyes widened in shock. He couldn't believe I was yelling at him in defense of his enemy.
"How could you be fighting with me over him?" he shouted back. I was taken aback by his reaction; I had no idea what had gotten into him.
Taking a deep breath, I reached for his hands and locked eyes with him, hoping to calm him down. Instantly, his anger seemed to drain away. He looked at me and said, "I'm sorry, chicken. I don't know why I got so angry. But I don't want you talking to Zain again. He's not a decent person."
"Okay, I won't," was all I could manage in response.
-------
Days passed since the match—and since I met Zain. It was nine o'clock on a Friday night. I was supposed to go out with Ziya, but she canceled at the last minute. Lying in my queen-sized bed, I stared up at the chandelier, lost in thought.
Suddenly, my phone started buzzing. I rolled onto my stomach and picked it up. My eyes nearly popped out of my head when I saw who was texting me. I couldn't believe the same guy who had been on my mind for days was now messaging me. I hadn't been able to stop thinking about him since the match.
The messages read:
- "Hey beauty, what are you doing?"
- "Hey, I really want to see you. You've got me thinking."
- "It's me, Zain, by the way, if you've forgotten me?"
- "Hello, Princess."
Shocked, I wondered how on earth he got my number. Confusion warred with curiosity. Part of me wanted to reply, another part remembered my promise to David. Then again, I thought, promises are sometimes made to be broken. So I decided to text back and ask how he got my number.
"Hey, how did you get my number?" I wrote.
"Hey lovely, finally you replied," he answered. "I thought you'd ghost me again like you did on the field."
"How did you get my number?" I asked again, not wanting to chat until he explained.
"I'll tell you how if you come down and take a drive with me," he replied.
My nerves spiked. He knew where I lived. I jumped out of bed and dashed to my giant window with its light pink and blue sheer curtains. Peeking past the floral fabric, I saw him standing outside, dressed in black jeans, a black leather jacket, black boots, and a matching shirt. A silver chain glinted around his neck.
I rushed downstairs and opened the front door. Slowly, he walked up to me, so close I could feel his breath on my face. He smelled incredible, like hazelnut and honey. His broad frame practically blocked me from view. Leaning down to my ear, he whispered,
"Sorry, Princess, but I can't let anyone else see you like this. Imagine what it would do to them if it's already making me lose every shred of control."
Confused, I gave him a questioning look. He then grabbed the hair from behind my head and pulled it in front of my chest, covering me. A heated blush crept up my face as I realized what he meant—I was wearing tiny shorts that barely covered my butt and a netted, see-through bra that didn't even hide my nipples.
He eased me inside and shut the door behind him. Fear coursed through me. Panicked, I threatened to scream and call the police if he stepped any closer.
He gave me an evil smirk, then lowered his gaze and turned around, showing me his back. "Princess, I'm not here to hurt you. I just don't want anyone else seeing you like this. Now go upstairs and change so I can take you out," he said in a low, sexy voice.
Why should I listen to him? David had warned me. Besides, I barely knew this guy. I had no clue what he was capable of. But my heart—and my body—yearned to be near him, to feel those big hands on me.
Why was it so difficult just to be with him? So many restrictions and so much hesitation swirled in my mind. I'd never felt like this before. Part of me wanted him, while the other part screamed to stay away. My stomach churned with indecision and anxiety. But his eyes were so mesmerizing, it was hard to turn him down.
I stood there, torn between rejecting him and kicking him out, or giving in to the pull I felt. I couldn't be that heartless. I had to say something—anything—but in that moment, I froze, completely unable to decide my own next move.