Once upon a time, a girl made a vow never to give her heart to someone undeserving . . . for the sake of her happiness and heartbreak.
Lydia Hayes has had enough grief in her life. After the death of her mother, she was torn. As for her father, he...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"Put it in drive, I'll be outside, I'll be on the way I'll be on the way You can meet me in five, I'll be all night, I'll be all day I'll be all day"
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
The moon is full, the stars are glistening, street lights brighten the veins of the city, and Miguel's hand interlaced with mine. The windows are slowly rolled down, causing my little baby hairs to dance with the wind. Miguel's would've done the same if he hadn't pulled his hair back into a disheveled man bun.
The soothing voice of Khalid poured out the stereo making the scene ten times better. My face held a smile so long I thought it'd crack my skin, or at least leave smile lines.
As I glanced to the radio, that read 9:30 pm, I wished that I couldn't make this a permanent thing: driving through the city, so carefree and adventurous. I wish that this moment would never come to an end. And I know it will, just not yet.
"Do you trust me?" Miguel asks over the music. My head whips over to him. Miguel's facing me as he's driving. One hand on the wheel, the other holding my hand. My face contorts into an expression of shock. I look back to the road then back to him.
"Miguel the—"
"Do you trust me, neña?" He repeats, maintaining the devious eye contact with me.
I find myself nodding my head before I can even think about the question, do I trust him. "Yes." Of course I do. I know I do.
Miguel finally faces the road again, causing my shoulders to relax a tad and I sink into my seat. I giggle as I look back outside. The warmth in my left hand suddenly disappears and a part of me wished it would come back. Just as I was about to look towards Miguel, the warmth returns, but not in my hand. I look down to see a very masculine hand resting and caressing my thigh, silently teasing me. The blush I've come to love and hate blooms up my chest, then directly to my cheeks.
Miguel speeds up, going about twenty over the forty-five speed limit. Seeing him like this; a permanent smirk that accentuates his deep dimples, the way he grips the steering wheel with much authority, or the way he grips my thigh in possession—it makes me want to always be around him. He gives off such a vibe that gets me high off one hit. He's so effortlessly addictive and it's drives me insane.
