AARON WALLACE'S POV

"Aaron," I heard Lively call, and I looked over my shoulder to where she was standing. She had hastily gotten ready in a few minutes, wearing an oversized faded yellow T-shirt, and probably shorts, though they were beyond sight, swallowed by the T-shirt falling over her tempting bare shoulder. She had clearly given up on blow-drying her hair. As it gradually dried naturally, it appeared less flattened, though slightly darkened from the remaining moisture, the strands limp and clumping together. She was pretty beyond what lips could depict, as only the eyes could comprehend. "You wanna talk?" she innocently beckoned, with a nod for me to follow.

"Yes!" I wiped the sides of my mouth with a napkin and set it down on the table, politely excusing myself and following her as though she had a leash around me, even though she didn't realize it. She couldn't believe I wasn't the childish boy I was six years ago. So now, judging by her body language she seemed unnerved by my visit, by default assuming I had some intention other than making her my wife.

She wriggled her fingers as I stood opposite her behind the couch, and I had to restrain myself from touching her, so I thrust my hands into my pockets.

"Outside?" I suggested, noticing her gaze on the front door. Her lips parted as she seemed to consider before carefully saying in a low voice, "The neighbors like to talk," glancing over at me above her lashes to study my reaction.

Her eyes were right; I didn't understand what she meant. "Talk in what sense?" I shook my head at her.

"I can't be seen with Aaron Wallace," She bit her lip slowly, a gleam in her green eyes. I didn't know if she was doing this intentionally or if she even knew she was doing anything, but her naivety was torture to me. I wanted to break through it, staple her against the wall, and kiss her deeply until I unearthed her naked desires.

"Ouch! You don't want to be seen with me!" I smirked, though deep down, it hurt. I knew getting her for the second time wouldn't be easy, but I didn't plan on giving up. Since last week, when I looked into her eyes while she thought I wasn't watching, she had raided my mind and crowned herself the permanent resident there. The only justice I could do for my stability was to follow her trail and pressure her with my admiration for her until I won. I always do, anyway.

"Not like that," she smiled mortifiedly. "When you live around here, there are things you have to refrain from doing to avoid bringing disgrace upon yourself or your family. Hanging out with people from your part of the world—everyone already knows your families wouldn't approve low grades families for their sons and daughters, so it's easier for the neighbors to speculate that the girl is either promiscuous or foolishly letting the boy play with her," she awkwardly explained.

"I understand, but it shouldn't make sense," Weirdly, I did.

She smiled small at me, twisting her lips to the side to chew on it. "We can talk in my room if you can keep your hands from touching things," she proposed.

"Lead the way," I motioned with a suppressed smile, and she briefly glanced in her family's direction, where Kyle was with them at the table, likely asking permission from her parents. Then she veered toward the door a few steps away, as the house was really small.

She turned the doorknob of the first door and flipped on the light, letting me walk in first before following and closing the door behind her.

The small, warm, and stuffy room had one window with limited airflow, two small beds, a bookshelf, a wooden wardrobe, a tiny dressing mirror, and colorful nursery-themed posters on the wall on the side of the blue bed.

"You have two beds?" I remarked as I turned around and found her turning on the old air conditioner.

"It will cool up soon," she informed me about the AC and walked to the window to open it. "I share the space with Bubble. It used to be mine until he was born," she said.

She's a twenty-one-year-old woman.

"You don't have privacy," I couldn't help but run my mouth on the matter.

"What privacy do I need? I like it with him," she shrugged, leaning against the frame of the window, facing me.

She deserves the world. I wondered why she didn't have her own place. But I wasn't going to broach a topic that didn't bring me here. So I suspended the conversation and pressed my lips shut, learning not to say anything so as not to utter a poison that could extinguish us before we even started.

At my hesitancy and ardent stare at her beauty, a smile graced her full lips, which I craved. Underneath the fabric of the T-shirt, her nipple was now poking through, and it wasn't because of the temperature, for the room was still warm. It was two things: either she was nervous around me, though the chances were low since why would she lock herself in a room with someone she's not comfortable with? This brought us to the ultimate conclusion: behind that innocence was a horny girl lustful by my presence.

My lips curled up at the thought, and I walked toward her, closing the space between us. Her eyes had dilated as she peeked up at me until I was hovering over her, and I lifted her face by the chin with my finger, searching her clear eyes.

"I wasn't going to keep my hands to myself, so I hope your warnings out there are not limited to me touching you, is it?" I asked her, and her cheeks reddened. She gnawed on her bottom lip coquettishly yet bashfully and shook her head under my finger. "No."

She was causing my heart to race faster just by staring at her, her compelling shoulder flashing from the loose neckline of her T-shirt.

My other hand says fuck the reserved respect for her family. As long as she didn't make a noise, we were good. I grazed along the side of her face, and she trembled, her eyes fluttering closed and her lips parting. She was beautiful, sending a rush to the forbidden parts of me without even trying. My free thumb rubbed across her lips, feeling their satiny texture, and that was enough for her to moan.

And fuck if my entire body didn't react to the sensuous sound it ever heard. She won over my self-restraint, and my head fell to the alluring shoulder that had been teasing me for a while, I rolled my tongue against her velvety skin, savory in all sense with a hint of danger. The provocative sound of her silent moans inflated my hunger for her, and I devoured her skin without wanting to stop, my tongue making the flat trip up to her neck, nibbling and sucking gently at her earlobe as she finally began to hold my arms to stabilize her stance.

"Aaron," she panted, and I pulled back, holding her face in both hands and lustfully giving her a fiery stare. She was breathing through her agape mouth, her sleepy narrowed eyes silently pleading with me not to stop.

"Please," she achingly whispers.

She's hot, but when she's turned on, it's something else. Kissing her is all I want to do too. The thought that I branded her mine six years ago, and she hadn't been with anyone else since then, does things to my heart.

"I long for all of you so severely, but I have maximum respect for your family, so I won't touch you under their roof," I said mostly to myself, then let go of her and stepped back.

I heard her scoff as I spun around and put space between us, sitting on the edge of the blue bed that clearly belonged to the little human criminal out there. Lively might not believe me, but I mean it—I wouldn't disrespect her family. She was already moaning from me taking a taste of the skin of her shoulder; if I touched her anymore, she would be screaming to the neighbors. That's not a good look on me that I want her family to remember, in addition to what that little human criminal had exposed of me on the table.

When I looked over to Lively, she was repressing a smile, her cheeks were rosy, and she lowered her head, breaking eye contact with me.

Fair enough.

"So what do you say about my request for a second chance with you? I hate how we left things," I transparently tell her, and she lets out a heavy breath, tucking away the limp strands of her hair without lifting her eyes from her fingers fumbling around the hem of her t-shirt.

"We didn't leave things, we ended things, Aaron," she softly clarifies.

I am aware of that.

"I know I can't fix what was broken. I know I screwed up last time. There is no excuse, but all I can say is I didn't know you at the time, and I didn't have time to process the rash phase we found ourselves in." I've regretted what I did to her more than she can imagine. Last year, I lived it in remorse. I didn't know where to find her to at least apologize, that's if she could ever forgive me so I could have peace of mind. I had sworn to myself that this summer I would have men look for her, but fate brought her to me on the first day I flew to Oregon.

"Up until last week, I hated you," she whispered, giving me a sidelong glance.

"And it is understandable," she has every right to be; I left her when she needed me the most. I messed up as a man, but then again, I was a boy.

I swallowed roughly at the thought with my fists clenching furiously at myself.

She has kept her eyes on me, but her head was lowered and angled a little. "I don't want to hate you, though," she mumbled, bouncing her knees from anxiousness.

A joyful feeling exploded in my chest, but it didn't heal the piece with concern for her uneasy behavior.

"So what does that mean?"

"That we—" She pauses to swallow, taking her eyes from me again, "That we are cool,"

"Cool in what level, Lively? I don't want to be strangers to you. This time I want to know you. You have to know I want more than I ever want from anyone; I want everything with you."

"Aaron Wallace, you are asking me to take a risk once again for you." She says calmly, exhaling a small, painful laugh like the obligation of my request was impossible to implement.

But I am adamant about pursuing her. This is me being serious about her.

"I am. This time we are no more kids. This time I am putting all my cards on the table for you too." I tell her as she stares over at me.

"Your fam—" She started after a brief silence as she mulls over what I said, but I didn't let her finish. I needed to clarify things like that, "My family is my family, and my choices are mine," I told her, and she took her eyes off my gaze. "I really mean it, Lively. I want this second chance."

With her head lowered and her soft breathing, she mumbled, "Okay," nodding, just like that.

Really? Just like that?

"Look at me," I urged her, and she did.

I got up from the bed, sighing. "I need you to trust me; I won't let you down."

"Once again, the ball is in your court, Aaron Wallace," she let out, her voice gentle, and a hint of a smile hung on her lips. I was so happy, I couldn't hold back anymore. I tenderly grabbed her neck with both hands and took her lips, devouring her sweet mouth intensely.

She held the sides of my torso this time, the touch burning down to my core, and it calls at her body to be felt against mine.

I have to stop this before she turns me into an insane man. I kissed her once again and parted from her before my self-control loosened and I swept her off the ground and onto the innocent bed and executed my thinkable fantasy about her over her body.

"Get ready in the morning tomorrow; I will take you somewhere where I can touch you without worry," I tell her, and her eyes widen a little, her face burning with shyness.

"It's Monday; your family is spending the day in the country club," she croaked; she had to clear her throat.

"Kyle's father appeared with a woman he married on his trip, so there will be a gathering tomorrow at the lake house; no one is going to the clubhouse. You are free tomorrow. Besides, I should tell you, my grandpa said to bring you, so we will stop at the lake house before leaving,"

Her lips shifted into a smile as she watched me, "Your grandpa?"

"Yes."

"Why?" she blushes, her voice so tender, soothing to the ears.

"I might have told him I am sky-high crazy for this girl I was a douchebag to in high school, and she still hadn't yet stabbed me for revenge," I watched her mortifiedly smile with her head lowered.

Coyly, with her tongue rolling in her mouth, she slowly lifted her fist, coming towards my heart, and she air-stabbed me playfully. She had a smile on her face that was contagious. I watched her quietly with all the admiration of the world fit in my gaze, her fist resting on my chest as she came to hold my stare. Her eyes were glassy, easy to read through, and she was happy.

Little things like this make her happy. It was rare to find someone with this pure simplicity.

Not wanting to cave into her natural lure, I cleared my throat and stepped back from her and towards the door. "It's getting late. We overstayed our welcome; we shouldn't keep your family awake."

She didn't say anything to that; she only followed after me when I opened the door and exited the room.

Everyone was in the living room now; Kyle was on the carpet, listening to Bubble gibberish introduce his toys to him.

"Kyle," I urged him, and then everyone's eyes found us. Lively is standing next to me, twisting her hands, trying so hard to steer clear of suspicion, but that only arouses scrutiny as she evidently looks passionately kissed; her lips are swollen from me sucking on them, and beneath her hair on her neck were hickeys that only now I caught.

So much for being respectful.

"We leaving?" Kyle asked.

"Yup."

"Mister and Missus Kelby, thank you for having us," I started, as the two stood up with warm smiles and circled over to us.

"It is our pleasure; our home is open to you always," Mister Kelby said, shaking hands with me again.

I smiled appreciatively.

Bubble came over to Lively, nestling in her arms and watching me from a distance.

"Little human," I held out my fist, and he shyly bumped into it as usual, making me smile.

"I will see you tomorrow?" I said to Lively by the door.

"Uh-hmm," she murmured, blushing, as I hugged her purposefully, whispering, "You have hickies, wear something decent for my grandpa but underneath make it for me."

We said good nights to everyone, and Kyle and I descended the steps to our ride while the family of four watched from their door until our car started.

"That was a long chat you had," Kyle said, and I hummed, smiling to myself at the thought of Lively's fresh scent in my nostrils. "How old is the boy?"

"Bubble?" I asked, looking over to him, and he nodded.

"I guess four or five," I replied to his irrelevant question.

"Okay," Kyle swallowed and faced forward, turning on the entertainment system on his side, and news started playing from the screen.

"Why did you ask?" I curiously inquired, noticing the weird look on his face.

"There is no worse thing a father can do that will level up to abandoning a child. I know damn well about that," he grumbled, clenching his jaws and I raptly watched him to hear where this is going. "Whatever you do, make sure he isn't yours."

My eyes pinched in surprise at his assertion, taken aback by the out-of-nowhere insinuation.

"What?" I scoffed. "Why the hell would you say that?"

"I am only advising you. Not to mention if I am accurate, then our bloodline is out there living a terrible life," he blurted, dragging a deep breath and redirecting his stare to the screen.

Confusingly and speechlessly gaping at him, I was taken back to the state championship game my school played against Boyd Clarkson High School, the team that scared all the schools in the state. They said they were the beast we should be careful of. Kids in my school used to think public school kids were rougher, tougher, and stronger. Our coach took us there with the concept of only defending our goal line, but I, as the captain, risked it all. It was the hardest match we ever had. Some of my teammates got knocked down, we swapped all the changes, and I somehow scored three touchdowns, the last one against the draw score in the last seconds, rocketing us with six points. It was the day I met Lively.

I remembered triumphing, taking off my helmet, and circling the 120 yards in extreme excitement, pushing past all the boys trying to hold me, then being held by the coach and getting hugged. That was when I noticed the girl wearing the ugly overcoat that made me laugh while the coach was talking to me, and he put my baseball hat on my head as it was cold.

He had said while I was partly distracted by her, "There are two scouts from the NFL, and they want to see you." He was speaking to me about my hopes and dreams, but I was wondering how someone could have the most beautiful pout. With the gloom on her face, as she looked piercingly at me among the crowds after the game, I immediately realized she wasn't in support of our team, but I couldn't think of leaving without kissing her, like today in her bedroom. There had always been something about her eyes, they were always inviting me. She always wanted me to kiss her, she never put a stop to it.

I patted the coach's arm and shoved him, making my way to the sideline and jumping across the boundary railing, eliciting female hollers as I rushed up the steps to the girl frozen in her tracks, with eyes that could jump out and take hold of me. She is a stranger but it was almost like I was wrong.

"Hey, pretty eyes," I whispered, and she muttered a timid "hello" subduedly, blushing intensely. I grabbed her small face and hungrily kissed her inviting lips, ignoring the different types of responses in the background and focusing on how good she tasted. I didn't want to stop and she didn't too. It was our first kiss. I remember it to this day like it was imprinted on my mind.

"I could kiss the girls supporting my school, but you're the prettiest human here, so I guess I am guilty," I shrugged at her when we pulled away, and she grinned, panting lightly. The joy on her face didn't last long; she suddenly looked alarmed, her eyes traveling away from me to the distance into the nightyard.

"What?" I asked her, wondering if she wasn't allowed to hang with our team.

"My mother, she can't see me kissing while she's restless. I should be leaving now," she sadly told me, but in her eyes, I could see she didn't want to.

My gaze curiously chased where she was eyeing, and there was a pregnant woman at the bottom of the steps on the phone. I had thought luckily she wasn't looking in our direction, so I turned back and smiled at the girl whose small waist I was holding.

"Too bad, I thought of celebrating our win with you at Wallace Country Club Hotel and Apartments. It's where we are staying, and having a party tonight," I took off my hat and put it on her head chivalrously, and she blushed, watching me as I stepped back, not wanting to either.

So I turned to Kyle now in the car as we traveled on the road and assured him, "Lively's mother was really pregnant at the time."

He was the only one who knew about me and Lively. I had told him about it because I needed to air it out and not suffocate.

He looked over at me with a sad smile because he also knew I was undergoing the medical process of assisted reproductive technologies. That was why I had to travel last week and during those times I had to turn off my phone and not respond to my family's text messages. "Cool then," he said, smiling tightly and raising his brows at the men in the front. "Lloyd, you will take me to the country club hotel and apartments. I am not staying the night in the lake house."

"Lively isn't serving tomorrow. I told her she was free," I informed him, for I intended to be alone with her tomorrow.

"It's okay. It's not like I needed anyone. I want to be alone," he simply said, plugging earphones into his ears.

Then I am reminded of the mess at home.

Argh Uncle Steven.