The wind whipped through my hair, the smell of exhaust and freshly cut grass swirled around me when Noah took a sharp turn. He kept driving me in circles until I was dizzy, laughing and screaming like a kid.

When the truck came to a stop, he opened his door. I tossed the rope down and hopped up, staggering a few steps as my equilibrium leveled out.

“Now you’ve been Redneck Sledding.” His hands landed on my hips and he yanked me to him, placing a soft kiss on my lips.

Rubbing my lips together, I pulled away a little. “So, now you can take me to your house.”

He scrubbed a hand over the back of his neck before picking up the rope and winding it around his forearm. “There’s not much to see.”

“I don’t care.”

With a sigh, he chucked the rope over the tailgate, followed by the table.

“Please?”

“Come on, but if Old Man’s outside—”

“Old Man?”

“Yeah, I don’t know his real name. That’s what everyone calls him, and he’s a pervert, so just don’t make eye contact with him.”

“Okay.”

We climbed into his truck and took off through the pasture, barreling over a creek. Everything inside of the cab jostled around.

“You don’t believe in roads, do you?”

“I got a truck, who needs a road.”

The pasture dumped out onto a dirt road and just as soon as we turned onto it, Noah took a hard left onto a gravel drive. A goat skipped in front of the truck, stopping and staring at the headlights. Noah honked the horn, waving his arm out the window. “Go on, Marvin!”

On one side of the long drive sat a shotgun house, the yard littered with tires and metal barrels, and then we pulled up in front of a small house with white siding and forest green shutters. The engine cut off and Noah sighed. “Yep, he’s out there. He’s got a mouth on him, alright. He’s just old…”

“It’s fine.” I laughed.

As soon as he opened his door, a deep chuckle came from across the yard. When I stepped out and shut my door, I noticed an old man push up from a lawn chair and shuffle toward the chain-link fence. “Uh-huh, uh-huh, uh-huh,” he said before turning up a beer can. “You gots you a lady friend, ain’t ya?”

“Yeah, Old Man.” Noah rounded the car, placed his hand on the small of my back and moved me toward the front porch.

“If I can give ya some advice.”

“I’d rather you not,” Noah mumbled.

“I been with my fair share of ladies, and they like it when you fiddle with their clit, you know play fiddlesticks with good ole’ Satan’s doorbell.”

Covering my mouth, I choked on a laugh as we climbed the few steps to the door. Noah rammed the key in the lock and pushed the door open.

“Alright, Old Man, thanks for the advice.” Noah practically shoved me inside the dark house.

“Ya get the deepest when you do ‘em from behind like a poodle in heat and then you—”

Bam. Noah slammed the door shut and flipped the light switch. “Fuck me, I told you.”

I burst out in laughter. “He’s kinda funny.”

“He’s kinda something alright.” He crossed the small room, snatching up a beer can and an empty bag of Cheetos. The inside of his house was bare, all that was in the living room was a floral couch and wooden side table, and a guitar propped in the corner. I could tell he was embarrassed by the way he was walking around trying to tidy a room that didn’t need tidying because that’s what Momma always did when she was nervous or embarrassed. “It’s not much, but it’s home.”

“I think it’s great.”

He gave me a smug nod. I crossed the room and picked up his guitar, then sat on the edge of the couch and strummed my fingers over the tight strings. “You know, I wanted to take guitar lessons, but I did the piano instead.”

“God, I’d love to play the piano.” He sat down, stretching one arm across the back of the couch and flipping the tips of my hair with his hand.

“They say if you learn one instrument it’s not hard to pick up on others…” I plucked a few notes.

“Well, I never learned the guitar.”

“What?”

“I taught myself, so I can’t read music.”

“How in the world did you teach yourself?” I thought about how he played on the stage with such ease like it was second-nature. I figured someone who played like that had taken years of lessons.

He shrugged a shoulder. “I just… listened to the songs I like. Really listened and picked out the notes.”

“Wow, that’s impressive.” I shoved the guitar into his lap. “Play something.”

“Demanding little thing, aren’t you?” He grinned as he sat up and adjusted the guitar in his lap. “What do you want me to play?”

“I don’t know, surprise me.”

“Oh, come on now, you can’t do that to me.”

“Fine,” I said. “Your favorite song. Sing me your favorite song.”

“So now I’m singing too?”

“Yep.” I straightened up, tilting my head as I grinned at him. “It’s your fault for having a pretty voice.”

His gaze held mine, a deep smirk reaching his eyes as he slowly strummed a few notes. “You know this one?”

He plucked out a few chords, slow and steady. “No.”

“You will.” He glanced down at his fingers, dropping his chin and subtly swaying along with the melody that filled the room. A low “oh” slipped through his lips, his eyes squeezing shut as he held it out. And then, I recognized it.

“‘One More Time’ by George Michael,” I blurted. He grinned and nodded before singing the first few words. The emotion and vulnerability in his voice made my chest go tight. The faded jeans, the tattoos, and rugged jawline covered in stubble made him attractive, but there was so much more to Noah. There was this amazingly kind person that he hid behind a hard exterior, but when he sang, the veil lifted. All his heartbreak poured out in his voice, and maybe that’s why every word he sang broke my heart just a little.

As far as he was concerned, his world had fallen apart long ago. And mine was falling apart. He told me all he wanted to do was make me smile, and all I wanted to do was make him feel like he was good enough. I trailed my fingers over his arm, tracing over his tattoos before slowly sweeping up his arm and taking his chin in my hand. I turned his face toward mine and pressed my lips against his. When I brushed my tongue against his, he dropped the guitar to the floor with a clang of chords. On a groan, his hands went to my waist. The kiss grew deeper, more desperate, and all I could think about was being closer to him, touching him. Cupping the sides of his face, I shifted on the couch and threw one leg over his thighs to straddle him. “Hannah,” he groaned while his fingers dug into my hips. “Don’t do this to me.”

I pulled away just enough to look at him. A feral, wild flickering drowned his eyes, and I bit down on my lip, my chest heaving. There were things about me that Noah didn’t know—things I didn’t want him to know, because as bad as he thought he was, he wasn’t. “I’m not doing anything to you,” I whispered, pressing my body tight against his before I kissed him again. His hands went to my hair, fisting and pulling. The kiss grew brutal. It turned into the kind of kiss you’d expect from a guy like him, and I reveled in that. His hands roamed over my body, lifting and tugging at my shirt like I was something he needed just as badly as I needed him. Feeling that kind of pure want and lust, it did something to me that I was pretty sure would never be undone. He lifted my shirt up and I raised my arms, my heart fluttering with anxiety and excitement as he peeled the material over my head and dropped it to the couch. His gaze dragged over me, heating me. I liked him looking at me. I liked the way it made me feel, the way it made me want him. Kissing along the side of my throat, he placed an arm behind my back and lowered me onto the couch before ripping his shirt off and settling between my thighs. “Shit,” he whispered running his hand over my leg. “Your skin’s so smooth.”

The heat of his chest pressed against mine sent a delicious swimming feeling through my stomach. I swallowed. Was I going to lose my virginity to a guy everyone said was bad for me, on his couch, without him knowing? Was that right? Shit… I wanted it to be. There was something about him that my soul wanted, some part of him I wanted forever. No matter the consequences. He kissed my thoat, his hand skimming my waist while more of his weight rested between my legs. It was just enough heat, just enough pressure that left me desperate for more. I threaded my fingers through his hair, tilting my head back on the cushion to grant him better access to my neck. “I would do so many things to you,” he whispered beside my ear, his tongue trailing its shell. “So many fucking things.”

I wanted to say something, but all that came out was a deep breath.

“Shit…” he huffed before dropping his head into the curve of my neck. His grip tightened on my hips and he pushed himself against me harder. Heat tingled up my spine. And then… he sat up, dragging his hands through his hair before sinking back against his couch and staring at me.

I clumsily pushed up onto my elbows, my cheeks heating. “What?”

“You have no idea the moral dilemma I’m having right now.” His eyes dropped to my chest. I suddenly felt vulnerable, judged. I quickly covered myself with my arms. He bit down on his bottom lip and groaned. “I just… I can’t do that to you.”

“Do what to me?” My face burned red-hot. I snatched my shirt from the arm of the couch and tugged it over my head.

He shook his head. “You’re someone I don’t wanna lose. I care a lot about you and I—”

“It’s fine.” I dusted an imaginary piece of lint from my sleeve.

“Look, I fuck everything up.” He grabbed my face. “I don’t want to fuck this up, okay?”

“Okay.”

Silence settled between us like a barricade. “Don’t be all pissed.”

“I’m not, I’m just…” I glanced at my watch and sighed. “I probably need to get back home.”

His eyes went all puppy dog. “I don’t want you to leave.”

“Well, I can’t stay here.”

“Why not?”

“I…” I felt guilty that I wasn’t at home. Home… the panic crept around me. I didn’t want to go home, but at the same time, how would it look to my father, the preacher, if Noah dropped me off in the morning? That man gave me a promise ring on my twelfth birthday. So while I may have been twenty, I didn’t want to disappoint him. “I just… shouldn’t.”

“Okay.” He nodded, then stood up and grabbed his shirt. “Come on, I’ll take you home.”