YOU HAD YOUR CHANCE . . . and you lost it

YOU HAD YOUR CHANCE - CHAPTER 11 - Intrigue

CHAPTER 11:

JEREMY'S POV:

Those two guys are pathetic. Both of them getting into a fight over her, then hunting her down until they are forced to park outside her house. The one guy in the truck looked to be in high school, but the other one in the sports car looked to be even a few years older than me.

Sure, this girl on the back of my motorcycle is good looking and all, but if she doesn't know which one she wants by now, then I'd have to guess that deep down she doesn't want either one. That, or she's the type that's so worried about pleasing everyone else, that she doesn't think about what pleases herself.

Since it's a little past eleven o' clock at night, the streets are mostly empty. I stop at a red light and she shouts in my ear, "Where are we going?"

With a smirk on my face, I shout back over my shoulder, "To the coolest place in town."

"Where's that?" she asks.

"You'll see." As the light turns green, she tightens the grip her arms have around my waist. The way that she's squeezing so tightly has me thinking that she's nervous or scared about being on the bike. So I speed up.

When we pull into the parking lot in front of my apartment building, she takes off her helmet and asks with doubt evident in her voice, "This is 'the coolest place in town'?"

I chuckle at her doubt, "No. This is the second coolest. Just a pit stop."

She looks suspicious as I lead her into my apartment, "What are we stopping here for?"

Her suspicion is funny, "Don't worry Lil, I didn't take you here to get into your Barbie panties."

"Whatever." She rolls her eyes, then gets a playful expression on her face, "I'm not wearing any panties."

"Really?" I ask, intrigued.

She begins to lift up her dress and I barely manage to school my face and hide the excitement. Then I see what she's talking about, she giggles, "I'm wearing boy shorts." She has on a pair of black boy shorts underneath her fancy dress.

I give her a shocked look, "I'm wearing the same pair!"

She gets a big smile on her face, "Really?"

"No," I scoff. "Jeez, you're gullible."

She frowns, "I'm not gullible."

"You really are, aren't you?" I ask. Suspecting that she is also a pushover. Those two guys earlier, the best friend and the fiancé, seem to be playing a tug of war with her. I bet she is constantly trying to please both of them. Be whatever they want.

She ignores me, "You called me Lil. People call me Lillian or Lily, but no one has ever shortened it to just Lil. I like it."

"It wasn't short for Lillian or Lily. It was short for Lil Girl. Which is what you are." I tease her.

She gives me a dirty look, "I don't like being called 'little'."

I chuck her under the chin, "Were you a short kid or something?"

"Something like that," she mutters. Then, more loudly, and rather sarcastically, "Wow, you must be so mature and worldly at a whole nineteen years old."

"Hey, I was on my own by your age," I inform her. I motion my hand up and down, "I didn't have parents spoiling me with prom dresses and expensive jewelry."

She fingers the diamond necklace at her throat and says indignantly, "It's not a prom dress . . . it's a homecoming dress. Besides, my parents didn't buy this necklace for me . . . my fiancé did."