“You’re looking prettier and prettier every day that I see you—you know that?”

I’ve been stuck down here for months. I’m bored, confused, lonely, and afraid. I’m afraid that I’ll never see the light of day again.

“When can I go out?”

Liam visibly sighs as he places a strand of hair behind my ear. He’s affectionate and takes care of me, I’ll give him that. He’s never once crossed the line on any level. He’s never raised a hand to me or tried to touch me in any way that would make me feel uncomfortable. He may have a girlfriend, but I’ve never heard him entertaining anyone upstairs. The only noise I sometimes hear is the slight mumbling of the TV. Most of the time, he’s here with me, keeping me company and constantly telling me how beautiful I am.

“I’ve told you so many times, Ray. You can’t go out yet. It’s not safe. You’re not sixteen yet. If the social services find you, they’ll take you away from me and put you in a home. Do you really want that?”

No matter how many times he tells me it never fails to make me shudder. “Of course not.” Like always, I feel hot tears pool my eyes. “I miss Mum.”

Liam’s face softens as he pulls me in for a hug. “I know you do, sweetheart, but she’s gone now. I’m all you’ve got. She would hate me if she knew I wasn’t looking after you. This way, I keep you safe. No one can get to you while you’re with me. Okay?”

I nod into his shoulder, sniffling. “Okay.”

Pulling away, his lips turn up into a bright smile. “Let’s talk about your birthday instead. It’s coming up in a couple of months and I want to do something special for you. It’s not every day you turn sixteen.” I wipe my tears and smile. “See? That’s miles better. I much prefer to see you smile. You look so beautiful when you smile.”

I’m surprised when I feel the heat rushing to my cheeks. I don’t know what this feeling is, but I kind of like it when Liam pays me compliments.

“Can I go out then?”

“On your birthday?” he asks. I nod my head. Liam looks away for a moment in deep thought. “I tell you what,” he says, looking back at me. “The weather should be better then. If it is, how about I do us a barbecue in the garden, and afterwards you can eat cake. I may even let you drink some champagne. It is, after all, a special occasion.”

Nothing but happiness shrouds me. The thought of going outside—even if it is just in the garden—fills me with such excitement that it makes my heart pound. “You’d do that for me?”

Liam frowns as if what I said was ludicrous. “Of course I would, Ray. Don’t you know by now that I would give you the moon and stars if you asked me to? Just, at the moment, we need to be careful. Stay down here and maybe—if you’re good—I’ll start letting you upstairs in a couple of weeks.”

My heart pounds again at the thought. “Do you really mean that?”

He smiles brightly at the look on my face. “Of course I really mean that.”

“Thank you!” I scream, throwing my arms around his shoulders as he laughs. I hug him tight and pull away momentarily to press my lips to his. I continue to laugh, but when I pull away, Liam looks stunned. Panic starts to rise inside me. “Did I do something wrong?”

A slight sigh leaves his lips, then a small smile forms. “No, Ray. You’ve done nothing wrong at all.”

I sense his unease at me kissing him, but I don’t know why. A part of me wonders why he wouldn’t. He constantly tells me how beautiful I am. Sometimes, when I lie in bed, I find myself wondering about kissing and sex. I’ve never done any of those things before—unless you can count the quick peck I gave Danny Briars behind the bike shed at school when I was twelve a kiss. I think it’s simply because I’m all alone down here and sometimes my imagination runs wild. I often even wonder at times what it would be like to kiss Liam. Like properly kiss him. He’s handsome enough.

“You look kind of mad, I guess,” I answer, trying to explain myself.

Taking my hand, he pulls me in for a hug. “I’m not mad at you. How can I ever be mad at you? You’re all I live for, Ray. You’re the most precious person in the world to me. I’ll never let anything happen to you. I’m here to love you, take care of you, and protect you. How can I ever be mad?”

Words I wish didn’t mean so much warm my heart. I know he’s much older than me and I shouldn’t want to be near him, but I can’t help the feeling he gives me whenever we’re close.

Closing my eyes, I inhale the musky cologne on his neck. “So, a couple of weeks I can go upstairs?”

I feel his head nod. “Yes, a couple of weeks. Let me just make things right first. I need to make sure no one sees you and tries to take you from me. You don’t want that, do you?”

I shake my head. “No. I don’t want that. I don’t want that at all.”

I manage a full week of avoiding Easton at all costs. I find myself wondering if he’s doing the same thing because he’s not approached me in the hall or texted me on the phone. It’s been hard as my mum has been badgering me with questions about him. It’s getting more and more difficult to explain what we are together. My mum’s not stupid. She said she saw the chemistry, but I still maintain that no matter what, we’re friends. I don’t know who’s bullshitting who the most.

It’s Friday and it can’t come soon enough. I have English last period and I’m dying to get it over with. We’re reading poetry today, one that we’ve been told to pick from either our favourite poet, or one that means something to us. I came prepared and psyched myself up for reading it in front of the teacher and students. What I didn’t come prepared for when I walked into the classroom was to find Easton standing by the chalk board erasing whatever the past teacher has written.

I freeze, staring at him at the doorway and when he turns to find me standing there, my breath hitches at the sight of him. He’s wearing black slacks with a crisp white shirt tucked in neatly, showing his ever so beautiful waist and hips. My eyes can’t help roam the rest of him, thinking how much I’ve missed him. His mass of wavy brown curls are haphazardly misplaced all over his head, but it does absolutely nothing to take away his sex appeal. In fact, it very much adds to it. I’m so jealous of the chalk board right now. If only it were me he was wiping down with those expertly flexed muscles on his forearm.

As he catches my stare, he smiles, motioning for me to come into the classroom. For a second I freeze, unable to walk. I’m so taken by him that I’ve forgotten how to put one foot in front of the other. Jeez, this man’s making my head crazy. It’s only when I sit down that it dawns on me that he’s here and my English teacher isn’t. I soon find out why once the class is filled up and all the girls are as silent as a mouse. They’re not normally this quiet, but I know why. They’re too busy staring at him and wondering what he looks like naked.

I’m doing exactly the same.

“I suppose you’re all wondering why I’m here today instead of Miss Bowles. Unfortunately, she has the flu, so I will be taking her place for a few days. I understand that she’s asked you to pick a poem to read—something that means something to you.”

My heart rate picks up when he raises the point about the poem having meaning for us. The poem I chose does mean something to me, but it’ll totally give the game away if I share it. A part of me starts to wonder whether I should try to pick another poem. It never occurred to me that this might happen. Then again, why would it?

Jeez, things really can’t get much more complicated. I’m trying to avoid this man at all costs, and yet it’s like the universe is playing some kind of sick, twisted game with me.

“My God, isn’t he just so … dreamy,” Samantha whispers next to me. “I swear that man gets sexier every time I see him.”

I nod my head, but then a clearing of someone’s throat alerts me to the fact that the room’s gone quiet. I look forward to find Easton staring in our direction.

“Samantha, care to share to the rest of the class what you said to Sasha? It was obviously important enough to disrupt the class.”

Samantha vehemently shakes her head whilst I sit there squirming in my seat. He’s dead sexy when he’s commanding like that. A part of me wonders if he’s like that in the bedroom.

“Miss Blakely. Miss Blakely!” I hear again. Easton had obviously been calling to me, but I had been too busy dreaming about all the things that this man can do between the sheets.

“Sorry,” I offer. “I was miles away.”

He sits his pert butt on the edge of the desk and rests a hand on one of the thighs I have been dreaming of licking all over on way too many occasions. When he waves his hand across the room, I finally snap out of my lust-induced stupor.

“Care to tell everyone what you were discussing.”

I think everyone thought I would say no. By the looks on their faces, they certainly weren’t expecting what I was about to say next. “Samantha was just commenting on how much sexier you get with each passing day.”

The classroom erupts with laughter as an embarrassed Samantha sinks down in her chair. “She agreed with me!” she shouts.

“Oh, I won’t deny that. Just keeping it real.”

I can tell Easton wants to smirk, but he’s holding it down. “Okay,” he finally says. “Class, quieten down.” He waits for the girls to stop giggling before saying, “Maybe Samantha would like to go first. I assume you have your poem ready?”

Samantha faffs about in her seat, frantically going through all the papers on her desk. She’s still rosy cheeked after my confession. Once she has what she’s after she stands up and makes her way to the front, but not before calling me a snitch.

A giggle erupts, but I do my best not to laugh out loud. I can tell Easton secretly wants to look my way, but he’s doing his level best to act natural.

In no time at all, Samantha reads a poem called The Lady of Shallot, and for a brief couple of minutes Easton decides he wants to discuss the poem. This happens with five other girls that get called up, and then all of a sudden my name is called.

“Would you like to read yours now?”

No, not really, I think, as I grab my piece of paper and make my way to the front of the class. I’m about to spill to the whole class just how much I like Easton, but only Easton will know.

Clearing my throat, I fidget a little and I feel the heat rising to my cheeks as everyone stares at me—including Easton.

“I’ve decided to read a poem by Robert Burns today. It’s called ‘To a Kiss.’” I briefly glance at Easton and notice that he stiffens a little when I do.

I close my eyes trying to gather momentum. It’s only a stupid poem.

Who am I kidding?

When I open my eyes, I decide to just get it over and done with. It’ll be said within a minute. So, I begin.

“Humid seal of soft affections,

Tend'rest pledge of future bliss,

Dearest tie of young connections,

Love's first snow-drop, virgin kiss.

Speaking silence, dumb confession,

Passion's birth, and infants' play,

Dove-like fondness, chaste concession,

Glowing dawn of brighter day.

Sorrowing joy, adieu's last action,

Ling'ring lips, -- no more to join!

What words can ever speak affection,

Thrilling and sincere as thine!”

I blink a couple of times before looking up. The classroom’s still silent. Deathly silent. I notice it’s because Easton should have said something, but he hasn’t. I look towards him and he’s staring at me. That heat. It’s his eyes. They seem to creep inside me and burn my soul. I can’t gauge what it is he’s thinking, but I know there’s emotion there somewhere. Whether it’s anger, happiness, or disappointment, I’m not sure, but I know there’s something there.

When the silence goes on a little longer than it should, Easton shifts slightly, smiling towards the class before saying, “Thank you, Sasha. That was most enlightening.”

Enlightening? Now I know there’s something wrong.

Without saying a word, I take my seat and the next girl is called up. As attention is on her, Samantha nudges me. “What was that all about?”

I shrug, trying to make light of it, but my head and my heart are having an all out war with one another. I’ve never felt the need to leave a room as much as I do now. Well, technically, that’s wrong, but this is a different circumstance.

“I think it’s because he heard me swearing in the hallway the other day and told me off. He’s been acting weird around me since. I don’t think he likes students swearing. Who cares, anyway?” I shrug again, trying to make myself look as cool as a cucumber when inside my insides are on fire.

Samantha giggles a little and that gains the attention of Easton. He looks towards us with a stern expression and that’s when I keep my head down for the rest of the class.

At the end of the class, I leave and Easton doesn’t say a word to me. In fact, he doesn’t even look at me. I’ve pissed him off, and I suppose I don’t blame him. It was juvenile of me to choose the poem, but in my defence I didn’t realise he was going to be taking Miss Bowles’ class.

I end up going home from school in a worse mood than I was in when I arrived earlier. I get showered, changed, and dutifully sit down to do my homework. I get a text from my mum who says she’ll be home late tonight, and to not worry about cooking her anything. I text back fine, and wonder what it is that’s keeping her out late. I hope it’s a date, as my mum deserves a bit of fun and happiness in her life. For three years she devoted her life to finding me. That can’t have been easy on her. It must have also been terribly lonely.

Faced with wondering what to do with myself, I decide to text Brett the barman to see if he’s working tonight. He is. Of course he is. He’s never away from that bar. Knowing he’s there, I text back that I’m coming for a couple of drinks and something to eat before dolling myself up a bit more. I don’t know why I feel the need to put make-up on tonight. I certainly don’t want to impress anyone—and the man I do want to impress probably hates me right about now.

I know for a fact that if I stay in, I’ll stew on it all night. So, I grab my bag, coat, and keys, then leave.