𝐝𝐞𝐟𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 - 𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗠𝗲𝗻𝗲𝗻𝗱𝗲𝘇 𝗕𝗿𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿𝘀

CHAPTER 11

𝐝𝐞𝐟𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬
-𝗟𝘆𝗹𝗲 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗘𝗿𝗶𝗸 𝗠𝗲𝗻𝗲𝗻𝗱𝗲𝘇

Lyle continued driving, his eyes focused on the road. The sun was setting, casting a beautiful orange and pink hue across the sky. He glanced at me, asking, "Can we put the windows down?"

I nodded my approval, not concerned about my hair since it was already pulled up. "Yeah, that sounds fine," I responded softly. We lowered the windows, allowing the warm July air, characteristic of Los Angeles, to infiltrate the car.

I leaned my head back against the headrest, letting the wind blow through the car and ruffle my hair. I could feel the warm air against my skin, and I closed my eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath.

The car hummed along the road, the only sound being the air rushing through the open windows and the steady rhythm of the engine. Lyle's gaze occasionally flickered over to me, assessing my relaxed expression

We finally pulled into the hospital where my mom was staying. We rolled up the windows, but I remained stationary, waiting for Lyle to open his door first. However, instead of opening his door, I saw him begin to take off the polo he was currently wearing.

I leaned back against the car door, confusion etched on my face. "Uh, Lyle... what are you doing?" I asked, puzzled. Why was he suddenly stripping down in the car?

Lyle didn't respond to my question, his focus on taking off his polo. As he removed the fabric, I couldn't help but notice his tanned skin, the well-toned muscles of his chest and abdomen flexing with each movement. Lyle's bare chest was exposed to the warm car air, highlighting the rippling muscles of his torso, his sun-kissed skin gleaming in the semi-darkness.

Lyle turned to me, a slightly sheepish expression on his face. "I'm just changing my polo," he explained. "I've been sweating a lot from the tennis practice with you and Erik, and I figured I should change since we're going into the hospital, and I want to look presentable for your mom,."

I nodded, a soft smile playing on my lips. "Oh, okay," I replied, the tension in my shoulders easing a bit. "It doesn't really matter, though."

Lyle shook his head, disagreeing with my assertion. He leaned over his seat, reaching into his tennis bag, and rummaged through it. The sound of zippers and rustling fabric filled the air as he searched for what he was looking for. After a few moments, he pulled out a black sweater, the large green "L" stitched onto the right side of the chest.

I watched him as he donned the new sweater, smoothing it down over his bare chest. Looking at the "L" on the sweater, I realized it must be monogrammed and it was for Lyle. He looked in the visor pull down mirror, messing with his shortish brown hair that was still messy.

Lyle glanced at me, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips and revealing his bright, very straight white teeth. "Okay, I'm ready," he said cheerfully, the sweater looking quite good on him.

I managed a smile in return, but I was still slightly puzzled by the situation we were in. We walked side by side towards the hospital, and I remarked, "I feel underdressed."

Lyle now looked significantly better, wearing his tennis shorts and the black sweater, while I was still dressed in the wrinkled polo and short tennis skirt I had worn for practice. I must have looked a mess, sweaty and tired and disheveled from our earlier games.

Lyle looked over at me as we continued walking, his gaze flickering over my slightly messy appearance. I could see the very faint smirk on his lips as he replied, "You look fine."

"Just because we just met a day or so ago doesn't mean I don't know that you're lying," I retorted, my fingers fussing with my unkempt hair in a futile attempt to straighten it.