Prince charming in his black Jeep

Isabelle's heart was pounding inside her chest, feeling nauseous after all that happened. Her phone buzzed in her pocket, startling her. It was Cassidy.

C: "I'm sorry I didn't get to you on time. I'm glad Allen did, though, he totally humiliated him in front of everyone! But you… I didn't know you could bite back like that! I'm not bothering anymore. Call me when you're free! Xoxo."

I: "I'll do. xoxo." She answered back.

Allen was looking at her from the corner of his eye, squeezing the wheel tightly. Did I fuck up? He thought, looking at her sigh and look out the window. I definitely fucked up. Shit, I have to say something. He swallowed hard.

"I'm sorry." His voice came out soft, slightly shaking.

Isabelle turned her head to look at him, her eyebrows furrowed in concern. "What do you mean?"

"I—I shouldn't have kissed you." He swallowed again. "I thought it was a good idea, but maybe you didn't want me to—"

"Stop the car," she interrupted. Allen bit his lip, pulling off to the side of the road.

She's pissed. He felt the knot form back in his throat, making it difficult for him to breathe normally. He didn't want to see her, so he just stood there, his eyes fixated on the wheel, waiting to hear her open the door and leave. But she didn't. He heard her move on her seat, a warm touch grabbing his right hand and dragging it close to her.

He moved his face to look at her, finding her eyes examining his knuckles. He was bleeding, probably because of one of Sean's teeth cutting his skin. She leaned forward, her hand holding his delicately. She was shaking.

Her lips landed on the back of his hand, near the place where he was bleeding, kissing it softly. He held his breath.

"Thank you," her lips brushed against his skin as she spoke, then she looked up at him, guilt present in her eyes. "I'm sorry. It never occurred to me he'd look out for me, and now everyone in school will talk about it… I—" she grabbed some air, her eyes crystallizing as seconds passed by. Allen started breathing again, fast and deep, as he heard her speak. "I didn't want to involve you in any of this. If you feel like you have to stand up for me because of what happened between us, then don't." Her voice broke. She swallowed trying to calm down, his inexpressive eyes doing the opposite. "You don't have to do it. I don't want to be a bother…"

Isabelle's voice died slowly, her hands still trembling over his. Those last words slapped him, leaving him nauseous. He hated them. He hated the fact that she felt she didn't mean anything to him. His body moved by it's own, caressing with his free hand his way to the back of her neck, and drawing her closer until their foreheads touched. Both of their hearts were pounding, confused by the sudden change of atmosphere.

Allen moved his right hand, tracing his finger along hers, interlocking them softly. His gaze was deep, alluring, pleading. She got lost in them, too dazzled to say anything. He was speechless too, his mind completely blank as he was overwhelmed by his own feelings. His face grew even closer, his lips looking for hers.

But he stopped.

He closed his eyes and clenched his jaw. I'm doing it again. Why is it so damn hard to—, the thought was cut off by her sudden movement, of her lips on his. It was a light touch, but made him shoot his eyes open. She was blushing, embarrassed by her own actions. After that, he could not stop himself, so he kissed her properly this time.

He pecked her lips a couple of times, each time longer, letting her know he wanted more. He tilted his head to one side, opening his mouth a little. She followed too, feeling his tongue stroke her lower lip slightly, asking for permission.

Her warm tongue touched his and started to feel drunk by the sweet taste she had. Their mouths opened wider, allowing a deeper kiss, their tongues moved slowly, taking their time to feel each other.

His stomach clenched, feeling her hot lips move along with his. The smooching sound and how their breaths became ragged and louder started to turn him on, feeling his dick press on his pants.

Allen pressed himself harder over her, his excitement getting the best of him. Her tongue was still shy, but he could feel her eagerness by the way she grabbed him by the shirt to keep him close. He released her neck, resting his hand on her thigh. She was now fully resting her back on her seat, completely cornered under his weight.

She could feel his heart beating strong and fast over her.

He ran his hand up, sliding his hand under her shirt, his fingers pressing her skin firmly. Isabelle trembled under him after his touch, inhaling air sharply against his mouth. He snapped back from the haze of desire, breaking the kiss. They were panting, trying to regain composure. He looked at her in the eyes, narrowing his eyes as he felt the urge to say something.

"I—" he started, but was immediately interrupted by a loud honk behind them. He completely forgot he had pulled over, but he did on the side of the road, not interrupting the car flow; and now a car was behind them waiting for them to move. "Some people really shouldn't be driving." He removed himself from over her, looking angrily at his rear mirror. "Prick." He spit out, mad because they were interrupted.

Isabelle giggled a little as she bit her lip, still embarrassed by the kiss they had just shared. She felt the absence of his warm touch in her hand, making her look at them. She noticed stains of blood on them, making her turn her face and check on his hand again. After around 10 minutes, he parked outside her house.

"Let me take care of that," she said, pointing at his hand.

"It's fine." He was not sure if he could stay longer with her. Feeling so vulnerable all of a sudden was not his forte, and that's exactly how he felt while being around her.

"Please," she said with puppy eyes, her eyelashes working magic on him.

Allen looked at her for a couple of seconds, followed by a loud sigh. "Alright," he said, turning off the engine.

He got out of the car, helped her with her backpack, and followed her inside her place. The house was definitely not as big or modern as his, but had a cozy, warm feeling around it. The kitchen was back on the left, fully equipped with a rustic style; and the living room was big, covered with wooden furniture surrounding a charming fireplace. He left her backpack on the sofa, looking at every detail of the place.

"Please, sit down." She gestured at her sofa and darted towards the kitchen. A couple of minutes later, she came back with a white box.

She left it on the coffee table and opened it, leaving all the first aid kit utensils in sight. She's overreacting. It's not that bad. Allen thought as he tried to remember how many times he had to patch himself up after a beating. He lost the count when he was still young.

She held his hand once more, applying all she learned from her mother.

"Does it hurt?" She asked, blowing slightly at the cut. He shook his head, looking at her intently as she worked.

Suddenly, he started thinking about the conversation they were having in the car. He was not happy about it, and they were even interrupted when he was gathering his courage to say what he wanted to say. My sister always told me to speak the fuck up to father, and I can't even do it in front of a girl? Even Kyle is bothering me about this. He swallowed. Kyle's right. What's the problem with it? It's no big deal if I kind of like her… Right? He tried giving himself a pep talk. Fuck it.

"I didn't like what I felt when I saw you with him." He confessed, stopping his brain from chickening out again.