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Dedication: Fallfacefirst for voting and commenting on this story! Thank you <3

Recap:

I completely spaced. I forgot the only means for transport he has, is his motorbike.

"Ready?" he smirks, looking devilishly sexy with his hair windblown and his leather jacket tightly hugging his muscular figure.

I gulp, nervously taking the helmet from him.

This is going to be interesting.

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I stare down at the helmet in his hand, chewing at my lip.

"You're not scared, are you?" he smirks and I try not to show any fear.

"The last time I was on a motorbike, Finn and I collided. I got petrol all over me," I grumble and shudder at the less-then-fond memory from when we were ten.

"Don't worry, I'll be in control," he promises me with a wink.

I exhale somewhat deeply as I take the helmet. I jam it down onto my head, the tips of my ears folding. I let out a yelp and fumble to fix them. Miles chuckles, shaking his head at me, as if having expected something like that to happen.

I can hear my own breath in my ears as I do up the chin strap and adjust the beyond-heavy helmet. I feel if I lean too far to one side, I will fall over. He silently passes me a pair of gloves. I do up the velcro and look down at my outfit, glad I settled with a pair of tight jeans and a warm jacket.

"Ready?" he asks and I struggle to hear as my heartbeat is drumming in my ears.

I give him two thumbs up. He lowers the visor, so that my face will be protected from the harsh wind. He mounts the bike effortlessly and leans forward, giving me room. With an encouraging breath, I hop on behind him. I pray mum doesn't associate the loud motorbike sound to me as the bike roars to life.

He revs it a few times and lets the bike warm again, before taking off. He drives much slower and more cautious than I thought he would. We continue to drive out of town and I know where we're going. We used to come out to the beach in the next town over, when he used to live here.

Once we were on the main road, I feel him tense.

"Hold on!" he shouts loudly over his shoulder and I tighten my hold around him, resting my helmet on his back.

I squeal as he jolts forward, picking up speed. I dig my leather-clad fingers into his jacket and squeeze my eyes shut. After a few moments, when I get used to the speed, I feel myself smiling. I re-open my eyes and watch the dimly lit trees and road signs whoosh past me. I don't dare to look at the speed, in case I have a panic attack. I let my eyes roam, loving the feel of the cool wind blowing my dark hair back. I love his body this close to mine and I love the adrenaline I can feel, pulsing through my veins.

After fifteen minutes or so, we reach the windy road, that leads to the beach. He goes slower due to the road and I'm grateful. He can probably ride this road at double the speed, but he doesn't.

We reach the top of the hill and he parks the bike. My legs feel like jelly when I climb off. I gently remove my helmet this time and beam at him.

"That was awesome," I breathe in delight. "I really enjoyed that."

"Really?" he smiles, taking my helmet from me and placing it on the back of the bike.

"Yeah, we should do a ride in the day light, out to The Farm," I tell him in excitement. The Farm is a place, about forty minutes from where we live, with beautiful gardens and heaps of animals. It's like a zoo, but much less confined and restricted.

"Sure, we can do that." he assures me.

I remove my gloves and he does the same. My fingers now smell like leather, but I don't mind too much. He reaches for my hand and I subtly wipe my palms on my jeans, before taking his offer, not wanting him to see my hands are clammy.

The night air is cool. I can hear the waves crashing against each other, the sounds of the crickets chirping in the trees and the wind soaring past our ears.

He leads me to the weather-worn table and chairs. I re-do my pony tail once he lets go of my hand.

"How are things at home?" he asks me gently.

I shrug. "Could be better. Mum is stressed and I'm scared she will start drinking more. Finn is mad at me and we're not speaking. I can't remember the last time he was this mad at me."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"It's worse for you," I sigh, reaching out for him out of old habit. "Your family kicked you out."

He rubs his long fingers against his jawline. "Yeah."

"Want to talk about it?"

He shakes his head. "Not really."

"It might make you feel better," I prompt him.

"My mother's dead and my father wants nothing to do with me," he says bitterly. "Not much to say."

I brush my fingers lightly against his cheek. His blue eyes dart to me and I smile at him.

"Let's not talk about it, then," I simply say.

He looks relieved as he smiles back at me, holding my hand in place against his skin when I try to move it.

I stare hard at him and find myself absorbing all his features. He is devastatingly attractive. His razor-sharp jaw line looks like it could cut glass. Even with his bruises and cuts, he still looks so handsome. His ashy blond hair is flat and sticking up at odd angles, due to the helmet. His cheeks are lightly flushed from the ride and his eyes are bright in the light of the moon.

"What are you staring at?" he murmurs.

"You."

"Why?" he asks softly.

"Because you're beautiful." I can't help but be honest.

The corners of his lips twitch. "Guys aren't meant to be beautiful, Is."

"But you are." I reply honestly, not ashamed that I think he is one of the most attractive people I've ever met.

"I could never match to you," he rolls his eyes.

"You're delusional."

"Realistic," he argues with a smirk. "No one compares to you."

"You are good with your words, Miles Carter." I say with a coy smile. "You know how to make a girl feel good about herself."

"I can do that with or without words, trust me," he teases and I already know that he can.

He places a warm hand on my thigh. I lean in closer to him, out of instinct.

"Have you been here, since we used to come here?" I question, playing with his fingers absently.

"All the time." he nods. "I like to come here to think. About you," he admits with a smile. "And Finn, and my family and everything else. But mainly you."

"Hey, speaking of Finn," I say to him lightly. "He is going to sign up to classes with his counsellor on Monday morning. He's going to request for you, too, if you've decided to go ahead with it."

Well, I hope he still goes through with it, even though he isn't speaking with me right now.

"You really want me to go?" he asks.

"Yes."

He sighs out of his nose. "Fine then. I will."

I beam at him. "Thank you."

He drags me towards him. I lean into him and he groans.

"Closer." he begs. "Come closer."

"If I come any closer, I will be on your lap." I point out with a shy smile.

"Exactly." he demands, pointing to his lap.

I feel my cheeks colour as I straddle his lap, facing him. I unzip his leather jacket and run my hands down his defined chest, loving the fact he is wearing a plain, white t-shirt. I feel him shiver under my touch. He looks up at me, his eyelashes long and full, probably longer than mine, even.

He runs his hands up my arm. I wish it was warm enough out to feel skin on skin, but I couldn't have ridden on the bike without a jacket tonight.

I'm leaning towards him, his light lips drawing me in. His lips press against mine and I sigh in content. He tastes of familiarity and comfort - bringing back wonderful memories of us together.

His hands fall to my sides, bunching up my jacket tightly as the kiss deepens. I rock myself back and forth slightly and love the groan the emits form his throat.

"You know how to drive me fucking crazy," he pants, staring up at me. "All this time... you're the only one who can make me feel this good."

"Really?" I whisper, running my hands down the sides of his face.

He nods, looking very serious. "Isobel..."

"What?"

"I am in love with you." he admits, his gaze unwavering. "I loved you then and I love you now. I know we have things we need to discuss and everything else that is going on, but I just need you to know."

My eyes are burning with wet tears as I stare down to him. My heart feels like it is jammed in my throat.

"You don't need to say anything," he assures me, his fingers wrapping around the loose bits of hair that are framing my face. "I just had to tell you."

A tear slides down my cheek. He gently captures it, his lips parting.

"I've always been in love with you, Miles." I whimper.

And that's when we both lose control.

His hands are everywhere. His lips move passionately with mine. My jacket is off and I have no idea how or when that happened. I'm pressed against the hard, wooden seat, his tongue dragging across my collarbone. I am moaning for him and I am not embarrassed to show my desperation for his touch.

This boy loves me.

I still can't wrap my head around the fact that after all these months, he is here and he loves me.

My legs are around his waist, my fingers are tugging at his hair and his hands are possessively stroking my thighs.

He tugs at my waist band. "Your jeans are so tight." he groans and sticks his fingers between my skin and the waist band, unable to get any further.

"I didn't expect this to happen," I tell him breathlessly with a laugh.

"Let's go back to my place," he suggests eagerly.

I raise my eyebrows at him. "Okay."

"Really?" he asks. "You're sure?"

"Yes, let's go," I tell him with a wide smile.

He tugs me to my feet. He helps me put my jacket on and it's only then, I realise, how cold my arms were. It's hard to think properly when Miles has his mouth on me.

He drags me to the motorbike and we both are silent as we do up our helmet. My visor fogs up straight away, because of my breathlessness.

I climb onto the back of the bike. The tires squeal as he jets forward, taking the road much faster. Now that I'm used to the feeling of the bike, I tighten my hands around him and let myself enjoy the thrill.

When we pull up to his house, there are a number of cars on the lawn and there's loud music.

Miles clenches his jaw as we walk up the path, his hand in mine.

"If I had a choice, I would not live here," he mutters and I can feel my anxiety weighing down on my chest, like a bag of bricks.

"Can you talk to your dad? See if there's another place you can rent?" my voice sounds strained and thick.

"And make him pay more of his precious money on a fuck up like me?" he asks sourly and I frown, wishing there was something I could do to help.

"Don't say that about yourself," I insist. "It's not true."

"Isn't it?"

He pulls me inside and the house is stuffy. I wrinkle my nose at the smell of smoke. There's bodies passed out on the lounge room and there's two girls making out against the wall. I feel sick as I watch the people stumble around, thinking of Miles being in this situation.

Does he come out and join the party...? Surely he would?

"So sorry about this," he sighs. "I didn't know there would be a party."

"Does this happen a lot?" I have to ask.

"Yep."

My throat dries out and I feel sick. "Can I have some water?"

"Sure."

He leaves me in the hall for a moment.

Emily walks out of her room, wearing her skimpy, corset attire. She rolls her eyes when she sees me. She turns around and walks up the hall, a smirk on her face. I turn my back to her and don't bother to pay attention, not wanting to make myself feel any worse.

"All the bottles are gone, I hope this is alright." he tells me, re-appearing with a glass in his hand.

"That's fine, thank you," I say, taking a sip, to relieve my parched throat.

He takes my hand again and leads me to his room. The burning desire I felt minutes ago is long gone. The second I set foot in here, I felt reminded of the trust and security issues I have with Miles. I had no idea things were like this.

My mind turns into mush when we're alone. He can say anything to me and I am putty in his hands.

He curses when he sees his door open.

As I walk in, a shocked gasp leaves my lips as there is a girl, lying on Miles' bed, only dressed in her bra and underwear.

"Miles," she smiles teasingly, flicking her dark hair over her shoulder. "You're finally back."

My foot feels wet and I glance down, to see the glass I had in my hand, now lying on the floor, water spilling out from it. I am shaking as I stare down at my feet, feeling humiliated that I let myself fall for in his trap again.

I almost... I was going to...

I am running. I am weaving through the crowd of people, feeling my heart crushing inside my chest with every step. He calls for me but I don't turn around. I feel like someone has a grip on my heart and with each agonising step, they are squeezing tighter and tighter.

Tears spill from my eyes as I run, hardly drawing a breath.

I am a damn fool.

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