Isaiah opens my car door and his warm silver eyes smile at me. <i> “Hey.” </i><br />I sweep my bangs from my eyes. <i> “Hi.” </i><br />He offers his hand and I accept. His fingers wrap around mine and heat surges up my arm, flushes my neck and settles into a blush on my face. He tugs gently and I slip out. I’m not sure if my body vibrates from the rumbling of the garage door closing or from the blood pounding in my veins.<br />Our fingers lace together, and his other hand smoothly cups my hip. I suck in a breath, surprised that someone touches me so easily and with such care.<br /><i> “You look nice,” </i> he says.<br /><i> “I’m in my school uniform.” </i> White button-down blouse, maroon-and-black plaid skirt, and a pair of white Keds. Nothing spectacular.<br /><i> “I know.” </i> The seductive slide in his voice causes the back of my neck to tickle.