by Abbi Glines
“You good now?” I asked her.
She bit her bottom lip, then shrugged. “I, um, don’t know.”
She didn’t know? I couldn’t keep from grinning. She was pretty damn cute. But she was young. “Why don’t you know?” I asked her. I enjoyed the way she talked. Her voice was husky but sweet.
She let out a small sigh and dropped her gaze to the floor. “He was my ride. I don’t live close by.”
As if I would let her get back in the car with that fucker. He had to be four years older than her. He was older than me.
“I’ll give you a ride. I’m safe. Jonathon isn’t. Besides, he’s way too old for you. Dude would go to jail if he touched you.”
She lifted her eyes back up to look at me. “I’m almost seventeen,” she said, as if that were legal, though she was a little older than I expected.
She was so expressive. I liked that. She didn’t try to bat her eyelashes or pucker her lips to look sexy. She was real. How long had it been since I’d been with a girl who was real? But then, she was young and she’d been raised in a very different world than I had.
“Yeah, sweetheart. But he’s almost twenty. He shouldn’t have gone anywhere near you.”
She looked deflated, then nodded. Surely she hadn’t wanted to stay with him? Fuck that, what was Darla teaching this girl?
“I’m sorry I ran him off, but he wasn’t treating you right.”
Those eyes went wide again, and a dimple appeared in her cheek. “Oh, don’t apologize for that. He wanted me to go back to a bedroom and uh . . .” she trailed off. She didn’t need to explain. I was pretty sure of what he wanted to do with her.
“Come on. Let’s get you home,” I said, nodding toward the door.
