Love: Military Style

A shrill whistle pierced my ears, effectively cutting off Justin Timberlake and Beyonce. I yanked out my headphones, furiously scanning for the source of the noise. They would pay for ruining my jam session. I mean, what the hell? Honestly, music was the one thing that kept my short temper from short circuiting. My eyes landed on an older guy, leaning against his piece of shit car like he was something special.

I've never understood that. Pride in a junker is one thing, but thinking that you're hot when you drive a beat down pile of shit and expecting everyone to love you is just a little delusional. 

"Hey sugar, looking good! C'mon over here and check this out!" Really? Sugar?

"Here's a tip in case you wonder why you can't get a date! I'm not a dog, so don't whistle at me asshole!" I smirked inwardly, proud of my comeback. His buddies laughed and started joking with him. The look on his face changed from cocky to menacing as he strode towards me. He felt like he had something to prove, and that meant he had to put me down in front of his buddies.

Oh hell no. That wasn't happening. I straightened up, ready for a fight. He got in my face, and began to berate me.

"You should've just came over, and not been a cold bitch. You aren't even pretty. Get out of he-"

He didn't finish his sentence before my control snapped. Out of nowhere my hand flashed up and bitch slapped him. His cold grey eyes widened in shock before he lunged towards me. 

My heart began to race as I realized he was going to hurt me. And he didn't care. He almost hit me before he was wrenched around by one of his buddies. 

"Get under control! What the fuck man? She's just a kid. Go to the car now,' my savior's stern voice ordered.

I'm not just a kid!

And I wasn't. I was 18, about to head off for college. I looked into the new face, and was stunned. He was GORGEOUS. He was huge, close to 6 foot, and musculuar. His jawline was strong and square, covered in a light stubble. A long straight nose, full lips and gorgeous light blue eyes. His buzzed hair was a dark brown I assumed, and only added to the manly look.

I looked away, hoping that I hadn't been gawking like an idiot.

Smooth Lily. Smooth.

"Ignore him. He just got back from a tour, and he thinks he's become quite the ladies man," his deep voice rumbled. Looking back into his eyes, I saw gentleness. I flashed him a brief smile of thanks, making sure that my dimples appeared. I forced myself to begin walking again, trying to calm my racing heart.

*****