In the safety of the bathroom, I can’t help recalling her reddened cheeks, the way her breathing hitched being close to me. But it was her words that hurt. They actually fucking hit me right in the center of my chest where my heart used to be.

As much as I wanted to lean in and kiss her, I know she’s off-limits. Not because she’s far too good for me, but because her brother would have my head if he knew about the things I want to do to her.

The problem is, I see how she looks at me. There’s still that hint of want in her eyes. As if I can save her. I can’t even save myself, let alone worry about another person.

But I can’t deny that she still does something to me. She makes me want more. To be the person who can offer her the perfect life. It’s been four years since I walked out and left her standing at the bus station.

When I turned and walked away, she broke. I knew she did because as the bus pulled away, I saw the tears streak her face. I wasn’t good for her then, and I’m no good for her now.

But still, she offers me those fluttery eyelashes. She grabs my attention with the gentle sway of her hips. It’s not noticeable to anyone else, but to me, it’s everything. And she knows it’s just enough to taunt me.

Being back here in this shithole of a town is like being drenched in a bucket of ice, but being in this house is even worse because she’s just down the hall and I can so easily walk into her sweet smelling bedroom.

It’s jarring watching her dance, seeing just how beautifully her body moves. When her dance instructor brought me into the classroom a week ago, the last person I expected was her, but I couldn’t turn away. When I looked into those wide blue eyes, I prayed she’d moved on.

But she hasn’t.

Neither have I.

It’s still there, the electricity in the air. Emotion stealing the moments that pass between us. But there’s no way in hell I’ll touch her. My rap sheet is far too long. Added onto it what happened in the city, I know I can’t bring that on her.

I made her promises I can’t keep.

I gave her memories I now have to taint.

She can’t love me anymore because I’m flawed.

Yet, each time she looks at me, it’s as if I’m perfect.

I roll the silver stud of my tongue piercing over my lower lip, biting down hard on the bar. Pulling my dick out, I take a piss with her still fresh in my mind and I find myself getting hard in my hand. Once I’ve finished, I shove myself back into my briefs, and zip up my jeans. Now I’ve got to go out there with a fucking semi because of Piper.

Washing my hands, I look in the mirror, my eyes are the color of a darkened lake. The green turning darker, but the hazel melding with it causing them to look bottomless.

Like glass.

Shattered, broken, fragmented.

Just like the man I’ve become.

Even after the night that changed my life, Preston still says it wasn’t my fault. Like fuck it wasn’t. I was there. I was behind the fucking wheel. Shaking my head, I inhale deeply, hoping to clear my memories of that night and every night after.

I lost everything. And now, I’m nothing but an empty shell and I realize I need to own up to what I did. Every day I pay for a mistake that cost me not only my job, but the one thing I found solace in and that’s dancing. Now, I teach kids how to do it. With time, I found comfort in knowing I walked away from Piper. She doesn’t need this shit in her life. She doesn’t need me.

I head back to the living room where Jeremiah and Preston are nursing two cold beers. The music booming from the speakers makes me want to dance. I remember the first time I saw guys moving, spinning, popping, I knew I needed to do it. But I no longer do it in front of them. They know why. And they’ve stopped goading me to do it.

“There’s soda in the fridge,” Preston tells me, gesturing to the kitchen that’s just off from the living room and I nod.

“Thanks, man.” I make my way into the immaculate space only to find Piper standing at the counter. Her body is stretched as she reaches for something in the top cabinet, but she’s too short. Even with her on her tiptoes, she can’t get a grip on the bowl.

Leaning on the doorjamb, I watch her for a moment. She huffs in frustration, spinning on her Converse heel. Her gaze lands on me, then those pretty blue eyes widen, and she yelps in surprise. “Jesus, what are you doing?” She gasps. Her breathy voice is linked directly to my cock.

“Getting a drink,” I tell her, shoving off from the door, heading to the fridge. I pull open the steel door and grab a can of Coke. I snap back the silver tab and bring the can to my lips, taking a long, fizzy gulp. I can feel her gaze on me. She always watches from the sidelines.

Piper isn’t one of those girls who likes to be in the spotlight.

“Can you help me?” she questions when I shut the fridge door and turn to leave. Her voice is gentle. Warmth settles over me for a moment before I remember who she is.

When I turn to look at her, those eyes, those goddamn blue eyes that seem to look right into my black fucked up soul pierce me. I don’t respond. Instead, I close the distance between us. I lean in, cocooning her between me and the cabinet. I lift the bowl with a smirk on my face.

As I set it down, my eyes fall to her lips. Her tongue darts out, licking the plump lower one, and I have to stifle a groan. Her small white teeth appear, biting down on the flesh, and I wonder if they’ll feel sharp biting my dick while she swallows it.

“Next time,” I tell her, bringing my mouth to her ear, “say please.” I allow my breath to fan over her skin, causing a slight shudder to race through her body. It takes all my restraint not to kiss her right there.

Stepping back, I turn and leave her in the kitchen. When I reach the living room, Preston’s on a call to his girlfriend. The only reason I know that is because he looks like he’s about to kill something. The blond bimbo who’s been bouncing on his cock is only around for my best friend’s money, so I’m not sure why he keeps her around.

“That Barbie on the phone?” I nudge my chin toward him as I talk to Jerry.

“Yeah, apparently she’s crying or some shit. Seriously, he needs to sort this shit out. I’m sick of her messing with our time. Also, the whole dating a bad boy thing she’s doing because of her dad is getting real old.”

“Yeah, that’s true.” I nod, not really interested in what’s going on with Preston and his girlfriend.

Jeremiah gulps down the rest of his beer, while I sip my Coke. It’s been two years since I ever let alcohol pass my lips. I vowed to never go back there. As soon as I touch a beer, I know I’ll never forgive myself for my actions.

“Are you coming down to the park with us? It’s been two years, man.” Jeremiah’s always been a good guy, a friend who understands and listens. Whereas Preston has been the asshole of us all, but something tells me there’s a lot more underneath his dickish exterior.

“Nah, I’ll catch up with you tomorrow. I think I’ll just chill here for a while and then head home.”

He nods, but his eyes tell me a different story. He’s not happy that I’m giving up everything, but he can’t understand what it feels like to be glared at.

When people see you’re different, they judge, they snicker and gossip, and that’s the last thing I want or need.

Preston flops onto the sofa across from us, sighing dramatically. “Jesus, I promised myself I’d never break up with someone over the phone, but it had to be done.” His blue eyes glance over at us. He has a satisfied smirk on his lips.

“What are you going to do now?” I ask, curious as to why he’d break off a relationship with the blonde who followed us from Los Angeles all the way to the Pacific Northwest with its cold and dreary weather just to see him.

“I’m going out tonight to get laid,” he informs me with a grin.

Pushing off the sofa, I make my way to the patio door.

“You okay, man?”

“Yeah, I’m just tired.”

“You can take my room, just don’t jerk off on my bed.” He chuckles.

That earns him a laugh from me. “Why not? Thought you loved me?” I taunt, knowing that most girls have begged and pleaded with him, saying the exact same thing. But Preston is the type of guy that will hit it and run. Before their eyes open the next morning, he’s out the door and heading home. Even though there have been times where he’d had a girlfriend none of them stuck around for too long.

We’ve known each other so long that nothing is secret anymore. Since we were fifteen we’d been friends. Like brothers. Now, at twenty-three, I don’t recognize him anymore. Fuck, I don’t even recognize myself.

“Oh, baby, you know it,” my best friend responds in the girliest tone. “Hey, come here, Pip,” he hollers at his sister, and my body goes rigid. I hear her light footfalls as she enters the room. “Make us something to eat. Sandwiches will do.” His order is abrupt, and I want to punch him for talking to her like that.

“Why can’t you do it yourself? You’ve been living on your own for four years, surely you can make a sandwich?”

“Don’t be snarky, Pip. Or did you want me to say please?”

“I’ll do it. I need to get another drink,” I say, turning to the room. I step by her, catching a scent of her perfume that smells like apples. Sweet and delicate.

In the kitchen, I pull open the fridge and grab the butter, cheese, and tomatoes. As the door swings shut, she’s standing on the other side.

“I said I’d do it,” I bite out, but she doesn’t bat an eyelash.

She makes to take the tomatoes, which are slipping from my grip. “I’ll help,” she offers, setting them on the counter. I watch her get the bread from the container and we work in relative silence making six sandwiches. Carefully, she slices them into halves, and I grab one. Biting into it, I notice her gaze land on my mouth, then she lifts those pretty blues to meet my hazel eyes.

“Thank you,” I tell her, and she scrunches her nose at me talking with food in my mouth.

“That’s gross.” She giggles, and the sound causes me to forget how much I should push her away, and I smile. I give her the one thing I know she’s wanted since I walked in here today.

I shrug in response, eating the rest of the sandwich before grabbing another. She shakes her head and leaves me to go to the fridge. Once she’s packed everything away, she gets a Coke from the fridge and sets it down beside me on the counter.

“I don’t know what happened, but…” Her words taper off and her face falls for a moment with sadness in her expression. “I hope you’ll trust me enough to tell me one day.” With that, she grabs the plates and leaves me dumbfounded in the kitchen.

I remember the one day I told her a secret. I trusted her with something I’d never even told her brother, or Jeremiah.

“If you keep your leg straight, you’ll be able to lean back and flip,” I explain, holding her hips with my fingers digging into soft, smooth skin.

She’s dressed in a pair of low-slung sweatpants and a sports bra, which in turn shows off her toned stomach. Since she’s been dancing, I’ve spent most of my free time teaching her.

“You got it?” I ask, stepping back.

“Yeah.” Her voice is raspy and I wonder if she’s as affected by me as I am by her. I know nothing can happen between us, but that doesn’t stop my mind wandering to places it shouldn’t.

I head back to the chair and sit back, lifting the remote, I turn the song back on loud. The song starts and Soulja Boy starts singing “Kiss Me Thru The Phone”—it’s the song she’s been begging for me to teach her moves to, so I do it. It’s been almost two years since she first got into my truck and I find myself doing anything she asks. Even though she’s almost sixteen, far too young for me to be having the dirty thoughts I have about her, I can’t help be intoxicated by her laugh, her excitement, and her shining blue eyes.

I watch her move across the mat in the abandoned warehouse we’ve been practicing in for years. She dips, rolls, spins. Her body was made for this, to move, to dance, to flow, and each movement is like a hypnotic drug to me.

When she lands on her hands and her legs open in an upside down split, I’m hardening and I have to drag my eyes away. Fuck. She’s only fifteen and all I want to do is kiss her, touch her, see what she looks like coming on my fingers.

“How was that?” She laughs, righting herself as she bounces over to me.

I nod, my mind still in the gutter as she settles herself before me on the floor, cross-legged. At times she looks so young, so beautiful and breakable, and at other times, she is strong and resilient.

“You were made for this, Butterfly,” I tell her, catching myself on the nickname.

She notices immediately, her cheeks darkening as she smiles up at me. I see it. Those glistening jewels she pins me with. She likes me, and as wrong as it is, I bask in that. I want her eyes on me all the time.

“What’s wrong?” She creases her brows in worry and I shake my head. Somehow, she sees through me, noticing the slightest change in my demeanor. “Tell me, Ryder?” She shifts onto her knees and I stifle the groan that rumbles in my chest. She looks beautiful kneeling between my legs.

For a year I’ve been good, I’ve been responsible as we’ve worked closely together. Soft touches, gentle words, and now, we’re alone and everything shifts as she peeks up at me from under her long golden lashes. Her chest heaves as her breaths turn ragged.

“This… We should go.”

“No, I know something’s wrong. Is it your parents again?” Her question jolts me from wanting to kiss her to fleeing as far away from my life as I can get. She knows about the pressure I’m under from my parents. They want me to be the perfect son and go to Harvard to study law and follow in my father’s footsteps. Since I chose a different path, they’ve been at me constantly, forcing me to spend time at my dad’s offices to see what I’m missing out on. All I’ve seen are stuffy suits who are fucking their secretaries for some excitement in their lives.

“I’m leaving, Piper,” I tell her. “My father told me that if I don’t do as he asks, I’ll be disowned, so I applied to study with a dance studio in Los Angeles. I can’t be around them anymore.”

“But… what am I going to do?”

“I’ll always be here for you, but this is my life. The problem is, I did something stupid when I was younger. Well, a few stupid things. It was long before your brother and I became friends,” I confess. I remember the night so distinctly.

Her hands are on my knees, holding on to me tightly. My heart riots against my chest, slamming painfully, causing my breathing to come out huskier than I intend. She’s so close, too damn close.

“You know you can trust me,” she tells me, and I nod.

“When I was fourteen…” My words are tentative, but I know I can tell her anything. Somehow this girl has found her way into my heart. She’s become everything to me, which is wrong on so many levels, but I can’t stop it. “I almost overdosed because of depression. I…”

“Oh God,” she cries, leaning in. She wraps her arms around my neck, our bodies flush against each other, and suddenly she’s on my lap. Holding me as if I’d break without her. And I realize at that moment, I will. Without a doubt, I’ll fucking shatter if she ever leaves my life.

That was also when I knew I had to leave. If I needed her this much, she might feel the same and I can’t do that to her. Her small tits are squashed against me, her legs over mine, straddling me. I don’t think she even realizes what she’s doing without doing anything at all.

“I’m so sorry, Ryder,” she mumbles into my neck, the heat of her breath tingling over my skin, and my cock hardens unbidden. I can’t stop it. I can’t make it go away and any second, she’ll notice it. That’s when she shifts on my lap and a soft gasp falls from her lips. “Ryder?” She pulls away, meeting my hungry gaze.

“You need to get off me, Butterfly,” I murmur, using the nickname I’ve given her. She moves across a dance floor like she’s flying, like a beautiful, delicate butterfly.

“Are you…?” she whispers, dropping her gaze between us. The sweatpants I’m wearing don’t hide the erection that’s tenting them and she gasps once more.

“Piper.” Her name is a warning on my lips. “We can’t do this. Friends, remember?” I close my eyes, attempting to think of anything other than the beautiful girl on my lap. I need her to move, or I’m going to do something stupid, but for the life of me, I can’t lift her off or move her. I can’t do anything because I’m frozen.

“Ryder,” she moans my name and I can’t stop myself from gripping her hips as she rolls them on my lap. Her heat against my thickened cock.

My head drops forward, leaning on her shoulder as I try to rein in my need. My restraint is a thin string that’s pulled taut, about to snap. “Jesus,” I hiss as she grinds herself on me. Soft whimpers fall from her plump lips.

“Promise me you’ll never do that again,” she whispers in my ear as she continues her ministrations. The song changes and R. Kelly starts singing “Cookie” and as the bass vibrates through us, Piper mewls as her body shudders all over me and I have to bite down on my lip to keep from coming in my sweats.

I watch in awe as she trembles in my arms, on my lap. She’s beautiful, like a blossoming flower in spring. Everything about her is light, happiness, innocence. Her lashes dance along her cheeks as her eyes roll back. When she finally opens them again, they’re glistening with excitement.

“Do what again?”

“Hurt yourself,” she mumbles, with a pout on her full lips. She’s still perched on my lap. My cock is still rock hard, but she doesn’t seem fazed.

“Please, Butterfly, you need to get off me.” I hear the pain in my voice, not because I don’t want her, but because I want her too much.

“Did I… Was it… I mean…”

“You can’t, we can’t do this,” I tell her, noticing the unshed tears pooling in her eyes. “Hey.” I cup her cheeks, holding her face so she can look at me. “I’ll be in big trouble if I so much as touch you, so please, baby girl, don’t make this harder than it already is.” My words cause her to giggle, dissipating the tension that hung heavy between us seconds ago.

“It is pretty hard,” she says shyly as she moves off my lap, giving me a reprieve of her gentle apple scent. She turns the iPod off. “You know, I’ve thought about that a lot.” Her confession stills me for a moment.

“What?”

“Your hands on me. Making me feel good.” Something about the way she says it and what we’ve just done makes me smile. I’ve wanted to touch her for far too long. “Would you promise me one thing, Ryder?” she asks, turning to face me again.

“Anything for you, Butterfly,” I tell her, and I mean it.

“One day, when I’m old enough. I want you to take it.” I know what she’s talking about, but I play dumb. Mainly to hear her say it, to give me the words I crave.

“Take what, baby girl?” I question with a smirk and she chucks her towel at my face. I catch it easily.

Then her face falls serious. “I want you to be my first.” Her words turn me molten and I’m tempted to say fuck it and do it right here for her, but I know she deserves more. And if I’m in prison for fucking her, I can’t be here for her when she needs me the most, and right now, I need to be a responsible adult, even though all my restraint is pulled tight. So, I nod in response to her. “Promise me, Ry? You need to say the words.”

“I promise.”