The next day at noon, Davis pulled up to my house in a striking red Lamborghini. I wore a sleeveless top with black fancy slippers, my wrists decorated with cute bracelets that jingled softly when I moved. My hair was styled in bouncy waves that framed my face beautifully, and with my nude lipstick completing the look, I felt picture-perfect. In fact, I took a few shots for Instagram before stepping outside.
When I opened the door, Davis's eyes widened in surprise. For a split second, he looked almost shocked, like he hadn't expected me to look the way I did. His gaze locked with mine-and in the distraction, I tripped. My grand entrance crumbled right there on the doorstep.
"Are you okay?" he asked, rushing forward. He lifted me up effortlessly and started leading me toward his car.
"Hold on," I said firmly, pulling back halfway. "If we're going out, it'll be on my terms-not yours."
His brows lifted with amusement. "And what are your terms?"
"First, we're taking my car. I refuse to ride in your flashy Lamborghini. Second, no kissing, no touching-none of that."
He smiled, and it was almost irritating how confident it looked. "Fine," he agreed.
"Good. I'll go get my keys." As I walked back inside, I caught him still smiling at me.
When I returned, I tossed the keys at him and muttered, "Please stop smiling. You look like a nerd when you do."
He only chuckled as we got into my car.
"Can I at least know where we're going?" I asked nervously.
"You'll see," he replied, eyes glittering with mischief.
He turned on the radio, and Old Town Road by Lil Nas X filled the silence. We drove quietly, neither of us speaking much, until about twenty minutes later we arrived at a breathtaking house. It had both an indoor and outdoor pool, shimmering like glass.
"Wait," I whispered as we approached the door. "We're not trespassing, are we?"
Davis laughed softly and pushed the door open.
Inside, I crossed my arms. "So this is where you bring all your girlfriends before you screw them? Let's be clear-your little charm won't work on me."
His smirk deepened. "So you admit I'm charming?"
"Don't flatter yourself," I shot back. "And let's be real-are you planning to have sex with me?"
"May God forbid," I snapped before he could even respond.
But then his voice softened. "I've never brought anyone here. This is my place to think... to breathe. Honestly, none of those girls mattered."
"So basically, you screw and dump," I muttered.
He ignored the jab. "Why don't we go inside instead of arguing at the door?"
The moment he switched on the lights, I froze. The ambience was breathtaking-the pool glittered under soft lighting, casting reflections that made the whole room glow.
"Want to swim?" he asked, catching me staring.
"Yes," I admitted. "But I don't have a swimsuit."
"Don't worry," he said, rummaging through a drawer. "I've got plenty."
Minutes later, I was in the pool, sipping juice while Davis fetched a beer for himself. He handed me my drink, then peeled off his shirt. I almost dropped my cup. His body was sculpted-smooth, muscular, dripping with something both dangerous and magnetic.
I quickly averted my eyes, refusing to be charmed. But when he dove in, the water kissed his skin like he'd been carved from marble. He emerged, hair slicked back, droplets sliding across his shoulders.
"Stop trying to charm me!" I shouted.
"So you do think I'm charming," he teased.
"I don't know why I said that," I muttered, embarrassed.
He swam closer, lowering his voice. "Now I understand those conditions. You can't control yourself around me, can you?"
"Why did you bring me here?" I asked, my tone laced with disappointment.
His expression softened. "To know you. Truly."
We ended up talking for hours. At some point, I noticed a piano in the corner and asked if I could play. He nodded. As I played, he watched me silently, smiling in that way that made me feel both seen and exposed.
When I finished, I returned to the pool.
"Tell me about yourself," he said.
"There's nothing much," I shrugged. "Except I'm the girl you smashed lunch on in 8th grade."
His eyes widened. "Are we still on that? Are you ever going to forgive me?"
"Relax, I'm joking," I smiled faintly. "I forgave you a long time ago."
"What do you want to know about me then?" I added.
"Your life. Your family. Just... you."
I hesitated. "I don't know why, but I feel too comfortable with you. I can't tell you everything. Not yet."
He mirrored me. "I don't have much to say. Not now."
Still, something about him felt off, as if he was hiding a truth I couldn't name.
By the time we left, the sky was dark. my car broke down, and we had to walk three miles home. I complained, but secretly enjoyed the journey-laughing, grabbing ice cream, stopping for hot dogs. When we finally reached my house, I thanked him and went straight to my room, ignoring my mom's prying eyes.The next day was my seventeenth birthday. My emotions were mixed-happiness because it was my special day, but sadness because my sister wasn't around to celebrate with me. Originally, the party was supposed to be at the beach, but I insisted on having it in our backyard. It was spacious, had a pool, and I thought it would make the perfect venue.
Soon, people began arriving, filling the backyard with chatter and laughter. Then I saw him-Davis. My heart dropped instantly. Pulling my mom aside, I whispered sharply,
"Why did you invite him?"
She looked at me calmly.
"I thought he was your friend. You've been hanging out lately, haven't you? Besides, I invited every family here-why should he be left out?"
Before I could argue further, Davis approached me.
"Happy birthday," he said with a smile.
I didn't respond.
"Do you want me to leave?" he asked softly.
I sighed. "No... you're already here. Why would you go?"
"Okay," he replied, and walked off to get a drink.
The party carried on. Music, laughter, and dancing filled the air. But in the middle of it all, something strange caught my eye-a shadow flickering upstairs in my room. My chest tightened. Without thinking, I grabbed a shovel that was leaning against the wall and hurried upstairs.
The door creaked. My pulse raced. Then, in one sudden move, I charged and swung the shovel with all my strength. The figure crumpled to the floor with a dull thud. My heart nearly stopped when I saw who it was.
Davis.
I froze, panic rising inside me. What had I done? I couldn't cause a scene, so I rushed downstairs and pulled my mom aside. Breathless, I explained what happened. Thankfully, she was a nurse. She grabbed her first-aid kit and followed me back upstairs.
We laid Davis on my bed. Mom treated him carefully, giving him medication and checking his pulse.
"Let him rest," she told me.
After some time, he regained consciousness, tried to stand, but collapsed again. I helped him back onto the bed, and when I saw he was finally asleep, I forced myself to return to the party. But guilt weighed me down-I had hit him. The music and laughter no longer mattered.
So I slipped away, back to my room. Sitting beside his sleeping form, I couldn't help but watch over him. After a while, exhaustion dragged me down, and I dozed off on the cold floor. Shivering, I eventually climbed onto the bed, placing a pillow barrier between us. Sleep carried me away.
That night, I had the strangest, most disturbing dream. In it, Davis's arms were wrapped around me. We were kissing... then everything turned heated, too intense. I woke up with a jolt, my heart pounding. Thank God-it was just a dream.
He was still sleeping soundly when I tiptoed to the kitchen. Figuring he'd be hungry, I made him breakfast-pancakes, waffles, bacon, and fresh orange juice. I placed everything neatly on a tray and carried it upstairs. He was still asleep when I set it on the table.
While watching him, my eyes caught something. His shirt had been removed the night before, and across his arm and chest was a tattoo: (JENNY 15/4/10) encircled by a dove. Curiosity drew me closer. I reached out to trace it gently-but in an instant, his hand shot up and grabbed mine.
"What are you doing?" he said sharply, his voice rough.
"Nothing," I replied quickly, smiling nervously. "I was just looking at your tattoo."
His eyes darkened. "Don't worry about it," he muttered.
I handed him a fresh toothbrush from my drawer and pointed to the bathroom. "You're not eating until you brush," I teased.
Minutes later, I realized he wasn't just brushing-he was showering. When he emerged, water still dripping, a towel wrapped low on his waist, I froze. My mind betrayed me, flashing back to the dream. Heat rushed through me, and I quickly fetched him a robe.
"Why the sudden shower?" I asked, trying to mask my nerves.
"You washed my clothes. I figured I should at least be clean before leaving," he said casually.
He sat on my bed, his eyes scanning the room. "Your room is neat. Mine's a disaster."
"Thanks," I replied awkwardly, keeping my gaze on the floor.
We shared breakfast. He ate with that annoying confidence of his, teasing me whenever I reached for a bite. At one point, he pretended to choke, and I panicked, rushing to get juice-only for him to burst out laughing.
"See? You could never poison me," he grinned.
"Don't tempt me," I shot back.
Eventually, he opened up about the tattoo. It was for his sister, Jenny. She had died in a car accident on 15th April 2010. He survived, but the tragedy had changed him completely. His voice broke when he admitted it was the reason he had treated me so badly back in eighth grade. Then, quietly, he apologized again.
When his shirt was finally dry, I handed it to him. My eyes betrayed me again, lingering on his chest. I whispered to myself, "Your trainer deserves a raise."
He heard me.
Before I could escape, he stepped closer, gently guiding my hand to his chest. My heart nearly stopped. He leaned in, lips dangerously close to my neck.
"Stop," I breathed. "I'm not that kind of girl."
His eyes searched mine. "What kind of girl are you, then?"
I swallowed hard. "Not a member of your fan club. So please... take your shirt and go."
I left the room, heart pounding, and when he came out fully dressed, he thanked me. Mom advised him to visit the hospital, and soon he left.
Later that evening, Mom reminded me to start packing. Our holiday was ending. It was time to return to reality.While packing, I opened the top drawer to take out the jewelry I had kept there. As I pulled things aside, my fingers brushed against a small box I was sure I hadn't placed inside. My heart skipped a beat. For a moment, fear crept in-what if it was something strange?
After a deep breath, I decided to open it. Inside, there was an even smaller velvet box. My curiosity got the better of me. I lifted the lid, and there it was-a delicate, breathtaking necklace that shimmered under the light. Tucked beside it was a little folded note.
With trembling fingers, I opened the note.
"Happy Birthday. Love, Davis."
That was when it hit me. He hadn't gone upstairs to snoop around-he had come to leave this gift for me. And instead of welcoming his kind gesture, I had knocked him out with a shovel. A smile tugged at my lips, though guilt lingered in my chest.
I carefully closed the box and placed it back in the drawer. I didn't know if I was ready to keep it or even accept what it meant.
When we were finally leaving, I spotted Davis standing a little distance away. He waved at me, a soft smile playing on his lips, as if he knew a secret I didn't. I hesitated for a moment, then returned the smile before slipping quietly into the car.