Never Been Kissed: Sophomore Year

15: NOT Jealous!

And then he did that unmistakably Bumblebee thing-he yanked me. (breaking the spell, darn him)

The next thing I knew we were flying through the streets in the pouring rain and I was hyper-aware of everything. The cool droplets falling all around me. The silence caused by stormy weather. The color of the street lights as they flew past. The warmth of the vehicle below me. The way my clothes stuck to my skin. The way that I was positive you could see my bathing suit top because my tee what white. The feeling of Mike’s short hair touching mine softly. The strength I could feel in him by hugging him this tightly. The put-puttering of the scooter engine. I squeezed the arms slung around his lanky waist and buried my head into his back as much as I could.

Bumblebee smelled like rain, that was pretty obvious. But other stuff too. He smelled of hot chocolate, damp cologne, and…bluebells? Yep. Bluebell flowers. Why on earth…? I’m not gonna ask. Mike felt safe and warm, and…yeah, I’ll admit it. I wanted to feel this all the time. Be with him, feel safe…no worries. I could only imagine what it would feel like to be enclosed in his arms, safe from the world…

The trip finished too soon. Mike parked the scooter in a parking space and killed the engine. Getting off first he offered a hand to me. I gracefully accepted it and almost fell.

“Sweet Mother of Snail butts.” I cursed. “Dang that thing makes me SO sore.”

Mike quirked a brow at my inventive curse. “Sweet Mother of snail butts? I didn’t even know snail butts had a mother.”

“Well, I don’t know. I curse by the ‘sweet mother’ of many things,” I informed him, rubbing my sore rear end and wincing. “Such as figs, all goats, and wine. I really hope wine doesn’t have a mother though. That would be awkward.”

Mike just shook his head at me. “May I offer you my arm?” I glared at him through the rain clouding my 3D vision. “Take that as a no.” Ignoring him, I shielded my eyes to see and gasped.

We were parked in front of Silver Rocks, the country club about a mile away from my house. It was a huge imposing facility-and only open on weekends, Thurs-Sunday. I smacked Mike’s arm.

“Did you forget that it’s closed today, Bumblebee? Where” smack “Are” smack “You’re” smack “Brains!” 

“Birdie! Calm the heck down!” Mike, rubbing his now bruised arm, frowned at me. “I told you to trust me!” He dug his keys out of his pocket and beeped the small vehicle of transportation, then showed me the smallest key on the colorful keychain.

It was finely formed, gold, and had Silver Rock Country Club written on it in fancy lettering.

“My uncle owns this place, Birdie. We get it all to ourselves.”

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I never thought I’d say this, but country clubs are really creepy with the lights off when it’s raining so hard outside it seems like its six o’clock at night.

I’ll admit it-I was scared. We were no more than a foot through the door when I subtly took Mike’s hand. More like grabbed, but still. He looked down at our entwined hands, the fingers locked together, and looked at me, black coffee eyes dilated softly. Mike gave me a small smile and squeezed my hand. I blushed, and then looked away. There were few sounds in the empty building-the soft dripping of Mike and I’s clothes, the soft whirr of the air-conditioning, and steadily getting closer sound of a dog barking, the…wait what? A dog?

Prince Asher the beagle launched himself out of the shadows and into both of us, yipping excitedly and licking Mike’s face off. I could only stare. Number One, when we fell down, Mike cushioned us with his own body so I didn’t fall on myself-when had a guy ever done that for me? And Number Two; I HAD NO IDEA PRINCE ASHER WAS THAT CUTE! The little guy looked just like a regular beagle I guess, mostly tan and black, but had an adorable dark brown eye-patch on him. He was barking like mad, echoing off the walls and just a little ball of energy. What I also couldn’t understand was why the little guy was here. I kinda wanted to be alone with Mike.

“Prince! Dude! Calm down! There’s a lady here!” Prince Asher licked Mikes face one more time, not seeming to care about his state of dripping-ness and plopped his butt on the floor, panting. He stared up at me with enchanting hazel eyes and I fell, hook, line, and sinker.

“Aren’t you the cutest thing!” I instantly picked him up, cuddling him in my arms. Prince Asher, sensing a friend, immediately barked confirmation and started licking me. I laughed and Mike stood up unsteadily, grinning like a fool; noticing I was still on the ground he gently helped me up by my elbows. “We totally named him right,” I told Mike, scratching the little fellow behind the ears. “But why is he here?”

Bumblebee joined in the scratching and shook his head. “Can I borrow your phone?”

“Sure,” I shifted Prince to the crook of my left arm and dug out my phone with the right, returning attention to the bundle of fun in my arms. Mike dialed a number and then placed the phone to his ear; while he waited for whoever he was calling to answer the phone he wrapped an arm around my waist and started guiding me to wherever the heck he was taking me.

“Rachelle?” He started walking faster. “Yeah, he here. I thought I asked you to hold him-he ran away? Dang. Sorry about that.” Mike listened a moment. “Sure. I’ll leaving him in Uncle’s office. Please hurry.” He hung up and shoved the phone back into my pocket, then taking Prince from my arms. “Quick detour, Birdie-come on, Ash.”

Skipping, I threaded my arm through his, happy. Wait a second, is Mike…blushing?

In a few minutes we had unceremoniously dumped Prince Asher into the office and were headed to the back of the club. “So who did you call?” I asked him casually.

“Rachelle Evans.”

“She is…?”

“One of my friends. I asked her to watch Ash for me.”

“Do you know her well?”

“Yep, practically all my life.”

“Oh.” I slid my arm out of his arms embrace. “How old is she?”

“Seventeen.” Shnick. “Why’d you ask?”

“No reason. How much time do you spend with her, anyway?”

Mike stopped looking ahead for a moment, then laughed. “Your jealous.”

“Am not!”

“Are too!”

I stuck my tongue out at him, inwardly seething. “Why would I be jealous?”

“Because I’ve known her forever and I just met you this January.”