Mated to the Rogue *DISCONTINUED*

T E N

I lay in my bed with a smile on my face, thinking of him. Liam.

I replayed the moment in my mind, not wanting to fall into the oblivion of sleep and loose the scene to the ocean of my unconsciousness.

After laughing and joking around for a while more, Liam had decided it was time to take me home. "I don't want you to get cold," he had said as he draped his warm jacket over my shoulders. The small but sweet gesture made my heart flutter.

We stood under the tree next to my window, looking everywhere but the handsome boy in front of me. Whenever I glanced into his eyes greener than the forest I got a sudden rush of energy and nerves. Finally working up my courage I took a deep breath and tilted my head up to look him in the eyes, finding him already staring at me with an expression I couldn't decipher.

"I guess it's time to say goodbye, huh?" The words reluctantly left my mouth as if even they didn't want him to leave.

"Yeah, I guess..." He said sullenly.

I smiled a little at his pouting expression and reached up on my tippy toes to place the flower crown in his soft, dark brown hair.

He looked surprised at first but then laughed quietly, shaking his head.

"Thanks, Lia," He whispered, leaning closer.

"Lia?" I asked in a confused tone.

"Yeah. It suits you."

He tucked a lock of my hair behind my ear, trailing his fingertips along my jaw. I tilted my head up as my breath my caught in my throat. Our faces were inching closer, our noses nearly brushing against each other. We were close enough to share a breath, and that's when I finally came to my senses.

I shifted my head to the side, breaking the captivating eye-contact and took a negligible step backward. There was too much I didn't know, and if I was being honest, I didn't fully trust him yet. I didn't trust him not to break my heart.

His hand dropped from my face and a flash of hurt skid across his attractive features before he concealed it with stone cold hardness.

"I'm sorry," I sighed. The moment was over, and there was a tense silence filling the air between us.

He turned away slightly, running a hand through his hair. "God, Emilia. I thought we made some progress tonight."

I grabbed his large, rough hand in two of my own and clutched it tightly to my chest.

"We have. I'm sorry, I just..." I started, unable to go on. "I don't know, not now. It's not the right time."

I reached into my pocket and pulled out a pen I had placed there when I was too lazy to take out my pencil bag and try to cram another pen in the already over-stuffed pouch. Turning his hand so it was palm up, I wrote a seven-digit sequence of numbers on the smooth skin of the inside of his hand.

"You can call me, if you feel like it," I said, feeling and inkling of doubt slip past my walls and into my mind.

He looked down at his hand with raised eyebrows before turning to me and responding, "You are something else." He said it with a smile, assuring me that it was not to be taken seriously.

I shrugged nonchalantly. "What can I say, man? I'm limited edition." I added a wink at the end of my sentence and chuckled. I'm not afraid to admit it, I laugh at my own jokes because I'm funny and I know it.