that someone
had come to her defense.
“You need to go to the nurse.” He eyed her
skinned knee.
She hadn’t even realized she’d been hurt, but
the sight of the bruising and blood sent a signal of stinging pain
to her brain. She winced.
“I’m Trenton, but you can call me Trent.”
“I’m Alannah,” she said softly.
A few of the kids still hovered nearby,
staring, but he didn’t seem to notice. Since he ignored them, so
did she.
“Come on,” he said. “And don’t worry, I won’t
let anybody mess with you again.”
Holding her books in one arm, he took her
hand in his. Then he led the way across the playground, and she
followed.
****
Alannah sighed into the quiet darkness of her
room. Since then, she and Trenton had been almost inseparable. Mr.
and Mrs. Johnson, thrilled she had accomplished what the best
therapists hadn’t been able to—get Trenton to talk again—invited
her family to parties and on vacations to exotic locations. By the
time she finished middle school, her parents allowed her to go
without them on trips overseas with the Johnsons, and she more or
less became a part of their mega-wealthy family.
But when puberty hit, Alannah couldn’t help
but notice more and more of Trenton’s physical attributes. His
muscular build. The cute way he smiled, with his mouth tilted up to
the right. Even at that young age, she recognized that the
queasiness in her belly whenever he came around had nothing to do
with friendship. She’d fallen in love with her best friend.
By college, the occasional erotic dream about
him had her waking up in a tangle of sheets with the area between
her legs moist and throbbing. Alarmed though she’d been by the
wetness in her panties, she’d fingered herself to thoughts of him
more times than she could count, imagining that he watched her with
the same lustful eyes the way he did other girls.
She came to love him so much that being with
him made her hurt, but being without him was so much worse. So she
put up with the queasiness in her belly and the ache in chest,
since they were the lesser of two evils.
Because…she simply couldn’t
fathom life without Trenton.
Chapter Thirteen
“Terri’s going to meet us at The
Underground,” Alannah said from the bathroom where she was getting
dressed.
Trenton halted his prowl across the floor of
her bedroom. “She’s a bad influence.” He had no doubt Terri was the
driving force behind much of Alannah’s changes and desire to stand out .
“You sound like somebody’s grandfather,”
Alannah called. “She’s not a bad influence. She’s my friend, and I
have a mind of my own, thank you very much.”
He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his
khakis. “If you say so.”
“While you’re on stage she’ll keep me company
at the table.”
Trenton checked the time. “Are you almost
ready?”
“You’re really in a mood tonight.”
The cause of his bad mood was the sizable
slab of dread in his stomach as he anticipated what Alannah would
wear. The longer she stayed in the bathroom, the more apprehensive
he became.
Finally, she came out, hand at the back
holding the edges of the sleeveless thing—he really couldn’t even
call it a dress—together. The plunging neckline showed hints of her
small, plump breasts, and the hem hugged her thighs several inches
above the knees.
And it was red. Red for fire. Red for sexy.
Red for sultry.
Alannah strutted over in a pair of heels that
made her hips roll when she walked, and she turned around just in
front of him. “Would you zip me up?”
His gaze dropped and he noticed how the
stretchy fabric accentuated her behind. Because of the plunging
neckline, she didn’t have on a bra, and he wondered if she even
wore panties. He couldn’t see any below the zipper line.
He gulped and shifted from one foot to the
other as heat filled his groin. “When did you get this?”
“I saw it in a magazine and ordered it
online. I can’t believe how well it
had come to her defense.
“You need to go to the nurse.” He eyed her
skinned knee.
She hadn’t even realized she’d been hurt, but
the sight of the bruising and blood sent a signal of stinging pain
to her brain. She winced.
“I’m Trenton, but you can call me Trent.”
“I’m Alannah,” she said softly.
A few of the kids still hovered nearby,
staring, but he didn’t seem to notice. Since he ignored them, so
did she.
“Come on,” he said. “And don’t worry, I won’t
let anybody mess with you again.”
Holding her books in one arm, he took her
hand in his. Then he led the way across the playground, and she
followed.
****
Alannah sighed into the quiet darkness of her
room. Since then, she and Trenton had been almost inseparable. Mr.
and Mrs. Johnson, thrilled she had accomplished what the best
therapists hadn’t been able to—get Trenton to talk again—invited
her family to parties and on vacations to exotic locations. By the
time she finished middle school, her parents allowed her to go
without them on trips overseas with the Johnsons, and she more or
less became a part of their mega-wealthy family.
But when puberty hit, Alannah couldn’t help
but notice more and more of Trenton’s physical attributes. His
muscular build. The cute way he smiled, with his mouth tilted up to
the right. Even at that young age, she recognized that the
queasiness in her belly whenever he came around had nothing to do
with friendship. She’d fallen in love with her best friend.
By college, the occasional erotic dream about
him had her waking up in a tangle of sheets with the area between
her legs moist and throbbing. Alarmed though she’d been by the
wetness in her panties, she’d fingered herself to thoughts of him
more times than she could count, imagining that he watched her with
the same lustful eyes the way he did other girls.
She came to love him so much that being with
him made her hurt, but being without him was so much worse. So she
put up with the queasiness in her belly and the ache in chest,
since they were the lesser of two evils.
Because…she simply couldn’t
fathom life without Trenton.
Chapter Thirteen
“Terri’s going to meet us at The
Underground,” Alannah said from the bathroom where she was getting
dressed.
Trenton halted his prowl across the floor of
her bedroom. “She’s a bad influence.” He had no doubt Terri was the
driving force behind much of Alannah’s changes and desire to stand out .
“You sound like somebody’s grandfather,”
Alannah called. “She’s not a bad influence. She’s my friend, and I
have a mind of my own, thank you very much.”
He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his
khakis. “If you say so.”
“While you’re on stage she’ll keep me company
at the table.”
Trenton checked the time. “Are you almost
ready?”
“You’re really in a mood tonight.”
The cause of his bad mood was the sizable
slab of dread in his stomach as he anticipated what Alannah would
wear. The longer she stayed in the bathroom, the more apprehensive
he became.
Finally, she came out, hand at the back
holding the edges of the sleeveless thing—he really couldn’t even
call it a dress—together. The plunging neckline showed hints of her
small, plump breasts, and the hem hugged her thighs several inches
above the knees.
And it was red. Red for fire. Red for sexy.
Red for sultry.
Alannah strutted over in a pair of heels that
made her hips roll when she walked, and she turned around just in
front of him. “Would you zip me up?”
His gaze dropped and he noticed how the
stretchy fabric accentuated her behind. Because of the plunging
neckline, she didn’t have on a bra, and he wondered if she even
wore panties. He couldn’t see any below the zipper line.
He gulped and shifted from one foot to the
other as heat filled his groin. “When did you get this?”
“I saw it in a magazine and ordered it
online. I can’t believe how well it
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