One In A Million

Chapter 1

My eyes skimmed the road signs for directions back to Main Street-- or somewhere populated. At this point, I was open for anything. I knew I shouldn't have let myself get away from my friends, but stubborn me, I just convinced myself that i knew where I was going. But I didn't, and now, here I was, deciding to make yet another circle.

Down the alley I went. I zipped my jacket with righteous determination
and stomped down the alley's texturous street, all the while glancing side to side for killers and such.

The hazy night sky gave me no assistance in light with its starless features, but from what I could make out, the place was safely vacant. The two plain buildings on either side of me were at least sixty feet taller than me and covered in black dirt and graffiti. The ground was littered with broken glass and mismatched items.

No places to hide, really, I comforted myself.

Relieved to be certain of no lurking murderers, I relaxed and slowed my pace to a stroll as I rounded the corner and checked my phone. Still having no service, I had to fight the urge not to chunk it against the wall.

"Stupid Boost Mobile," I muttered and glanced up-- and did a double take.

At the far end of the street I was on, figure had begun to jog towards me. My step faltered as I squint to be sure I was right. The broad shoulders told me it was a he, and he, quickened his pace to a sprint. Suddenly, overcome with terror, I came to the sick realization that I could die. This man could seriously kill me and I was in a deserted alley. Great.

I turned to run and opened my mouth to scream, but he was already there. He stepped in front of me and gently, but firmly took my arm and looked deep into my eyes.

"Kiss me back," he said quietly, his eyes pleading with me.

I frowned and again, opened my mouth to ask what the hell, but he interrupted me with his cool, scorching lips on mine.

I tried to push him away, but he just took my hands in his, almost intimately. His breathing quickened and he exhaled minty breath across my cheeks. I stepped back, and he must've taken this as encouragement because he guided me towards the wall and -- gently, gently -- put his full body weight on me. At first, I was irritated because dirt and chipped paint were getting in my hair, then I thought who the heck did he think he was kissing me like we knew each other?

But then I thought some more.

1. This this random tall, dark, and handsome stranger was kissing me.. Why?

2. Why was I over thinking it? Before I really break this off, why not enjoy myself a liiiiittle?

Really, this guy had skills with his tongue. It wasn't like I had tons of experience, but in comparison to what I did know, he was doing fairly well. Our lips were in perfect synchronization, molding to each other perfectly, colliding as one. His lips were soft, but rough, electric, yet comfortable. He moved his hands from my wrists to my face. I mentally shrugged and wrapped my arms around his neck and let myself relax. I figured if he did turn out to be a murderer, it was too late to run now. I felt him smile underneath my lips like he could read my mind or something.

Distantly, I heard footsteps coming towards us and both of our bodies stiffened. He, reluctantly this time, broke away from me and smiled mischievously at me with glittering eyes. To be continued, they seemed to say. I blushed furiously.

He turned away and pressed his back to my torso and wound his arm around my waist, as if he were shielding me from whoever was coming. I peeked around his shoulder.

The moon had snuck out from behind its translucent veil and lit up the night. I could see the stranger's face now. He wore a loose fitting v-neck t-shirt with a tan sweater, artfully dark jeans, and black Vans. His skin was pale and flawless in the moonlight. His hair was a halo mixture of caramel brown disarray and spikes, and his eyes, his glorious eyes, were beautifully hazel and glowing in the light; they glanced at me warily.

"Johnson!" A voice called from the shadows. I eyed for the culprit without saying anything. "Sorry for interrupting this.. " he trailed off and met my gaze daringly as he stepped into view, "get together.." He finished.

Johnson-- my stranger-- squared his shoulders and spoke in a clipped, emotionless tone.

"Lance," he nodded, his voice dangerously low, "what a pleasant surprise." I got the feeling that this encounter was quite the opposite of pleasant. "Let us talk more.. Privately?" His body stance implied that it wasn't an option. He turned to me.

"Count to twenty," he told me in a rushed whisper, "then run. It doesn't matter where to, just get away from him, Jay." His voice had gotten husky with emotion. I didn't know why he was looking at me as if he knew that I wouldn't listen. I also didn't know how he knew my nickname. Still, I nodded.

I watched him clasp the man called Lance's neck, and lead him in the opposite direction of me.

"One.. Two.. Three.." I whispered to myself.

On twenty, I shot off into the opposite direction-- just as lost as earlier-- but not before I saw Lance turn quickly and strike out with his foot and hit Johnson square in the side. The breath flew from my chest. I stumbled to a stop and quickly debated.Go back. Run. Go back. Run. Run.

"Crap," I groaned and sprinted back to where they were. I snatched out my pepper spray, and politely tapped on Lance's shoulder whilst he was occupied by aiming his next shot. Johnson glared at me and Lance faced me. When he did, I unleashed hell in a spray can straight into his eyes, and to top it all off, I kicked him in the balls, juts because I felt that that's what girls do best. He groaned loudly and let out an extremely feminine shriek as he slumped over and curled into a ball on the ground.

I looked up at Johnson expectantly because seriously, I just kicked some butt.

"Jay," he breathed, looking relieved an flushed, "You were..." He shook his head.

"Amazing?" I grinned.

He shook his head again.

"Sexy," he clarified, arching an eyebrow. I ducked my head and felt myself blush.

"Thanks." It sounded like a question.

I looked at him and he was abruptly serious. I watched him -- he was maybe 3 inches taller than my 5'7"-- with questions in my eyes. He stepped toward me, immediately surrounding me with his body, and left me nowhere to go but back against the defiled wall. Inwardly, I chuckled. He leaned in to press his lips to mine once more....
And Lance groaned again. "Wait," I said heavily. "What about him?" I nodded towards Lance. He sighed, but he didn't pull away, so his intoxicating breath washed over my face. I sighed too.

"Damn. I guess he is an issue, huh?" I inhaled the sweet scent of him with closed eyes. When I opened them, his eyes were hungry.

I stifled a nervous giggle as he ran his fingers through his luscious, chestnut hair and scanned our surroundings with narrowed eyes. I swallowed, and the weirdest urge came over me. I wanted, more than anything else in that moment, to stroke his cheek . My hand twitched at my side. As if he noticed, his breathing slowed and he took my hand in his and kissed my palm. I swear, it felt like I'd been intoxicated by him for forever.
And if only known him for about 2 hours.

Shivers ran over me, not because of the cold, but because of his touch. For some reason, I felt that, after tonight, my life would be changed forever.