As Stella walked along the dimly lit street, her thoughts whirled in a haze of confusion and excitement. The memory of Simon's intense gaze lingered in her mind, igniting her pulse in a way she couldn't ignore. Just when she thought she could finally breathe without the weight of their encounter hanging over her, a motorcycle roared to life beside her.
"Get on," Simon commanded, removing his helmet and revealing that handsome, chiseled face that made her heart skip a beat. The way the moonlight caught the angles of his jaw made him look both breathtaking and intimidating, a perfect blend of allure and danger. His dark hair fell just above his piercing eyes, which gleamed with an intensity that sent shivers down her spine.
Stella crossed her arms defiantly, trying to mask the flutter of nerves swirling within her. "I can walk by myself," she replied, her tone sharp, but she could feel the tremor of uncertainty in her voice.
Simon leaned forward slightly, his gaze unwavering. "It's late, and if you want to become prey to the dangers in the night, gladly go ahead," he warned, an edge of arrogance creeping into his voice.
Stella hesitated, her mind racing. She thought of Mallory's words ringing in her ears: "Never go alone, Stella. If by any chance anyone finds out you're a mermaid, you'll be in peril." Mallory's protective instincts had always kept her safe, but tonight she wasn't available to pick her up, leaving Stella vulnerable in a world she didn't quite belong to.
With a heavy sigh, she weighed her options. She could refuse him and risk walking home alone, or she could accept the offer of a ride from the very person who made her heart race in the most bewildering ways. He was a safe option—at least on the surface—but a nagging voice in the back of her mind reminded her of his darker nature. Still, there was something about Simon that drew her in like a moth to a flame, even if it scared her.
With a resigned breath, she reached for the helmet he offered. "Fine," she murmured, slipping it on as she climbed onto the bike behind him. The heat of his body radiated against her, and she felt an electric jolt as her thighs brushed against his.
"Hold tight," Simon instructed, his voice low and commanding. As she wrapped her arms around his waist, Stella felt an exhilarating mix of fear and thrill. The motorcycle roared to life beneath them, and with a twist of the throttle, they were off, the night air whipping around them as they sped through the quiet streets.
"Just tell me the directions to your house," he said over the roar of the engine.
"Uh, it's just a few blocks away," Stella replied, trying to sound casual despite the adrenaline coursing through her veins. "Take a left at the next intersection."
He obeyed, glancing back at her with a smirk. "You seem nervous. Are you scared of me?"
Stella huffed, indignant. "No, I'm just… cautious. You know, bike rides can be dangerous."
"Is that so?" He chuckled, the sound vibrating through her. "I'm a safe driver, I promise. I know what I'm doing." He leaned into the turn, sending her heart racing even faster. "Besides, you can trust me."
"Trust you? That's a bold claim coming from the school's resident bad boy," Stella shot back, trying to mask her growing excitement with sarcasm.
"Hey, I'm more than just a bad boy. I can be charming too." He threw her a sideways glance, his smirk widening. "And besides, I'm not the one who needs saving here. You're the one who should be more careful wandering the streets at night."
As Stella reached her house, she turned to Simon, a mix of gratitude and lingering tension in her expression. "Thanks for the ride, Simon," she said, her voice softer than she intended, betraying the flutter of her heart.
"Anytime," he replied, his gaze steady on her. "Stay safe."
She offered him a small smile before slipping inside, closing the door behind her with a quiet click. The warmth of the house enveloped her, but it couldn't chase away the lingering heat of their encounter.
Stella flicked on the lights, illuminating her room. The bright glow pushed back the shadows, but it did little to ease her thoughts, which were still wrapped around Simon. She shook her head, trying to dismiss the sensations swirling inside her.
To distract herself, Stella took a deep breath and began to clean her room, determined to push away the intoxicating memories of Simon. She started by tackling the clutter that had built up over the week, hoping the mindless tasks would quell the thoughts swirling in her head.
Stella grabbed a pile of clothes from the floor, the mix of workout gear and casual wear strewn about reminding her of the day's events. She tossed the items into the hamper with more force than necessary, each landing a small victory against her rising frustration. "Why can't I just forget about him?" she muttered, her voice echoing slightly in the quiet room.
Next, she moved to her desk, where books and papers lay scattered like her thoughts. She stacked them neatly, aligning the edges until they were perfectly even, as if organizing her surroundings could also tidy her chaotic mind. She couldn't help but recall the way Simon had grinned at her earlier, his playful arrogance disarming her.
As she fluffed the pillows on her bed, the image of Simon leaning against the punching bag flashed before her eyes—the muscles of his arms flexed, the confident smirk on his lips. She huffed out a frustrated sigh, shaking her head as she dropped the last pillow a little harder than necessary. "Get it together, Stella," she chastised herself, her cheeks warming at the thought of how close they had been during their training.
Stella moved to her blankets, folding them with precision, yet her mind remained tangled in the memories of their ride together. The way Simon had leaned in close, his breath warm against her ear as he instructed her to hold tight. The adrenaline rush as they sped through the streets, the world blurring by in a haze of speed and danger. She felt a thrill at the memory, mixed with annoyance at how easily he slipped into her thoughts, igniting a fire within her that she wasn't ready to confront.
As she tucked the blankets into place, she found herself imagining what it would be like to let Simon in— to share her secrets, her dreams, even her fears. But the thought sent a wave of anxiety crashing over her. She couldn't afford to let someone like him into her life, especially not someone who made her heart race and her mind spin with a mix of excitement and trepidation.
"Just focus, Stella," she whispered, willing herself to concentrate on the task at hand. Yet, the more she tried to suppress her thoughts, the more they flooded back. The warmth of Simon's hand on her waist during their training, the way his eyes sparkled with mischief, the low, teasing tone of his voice as he challenged her to push her limits.
She sighed again, this one more of resignation than frustration. No amount of cleaning could erase the impression he had left on her. With a final glance around her room, satisfied with her efforts but still feeling the weight of her emotions, she sank onto her bed, allowing the softness of the blankets to envelop her.
Stella lay back, staring at the ceiling, her thoughts a tangled mess of desire and confusion. How could one person stir so many feelings within her? With the room finally clean, she closed her eyes, hoping to find peace in sleep, but the memories of Simon lingered like an intoxicating scent, refusing to fade away.
As she finally began to drift off, a single thought crossed her mind: What would happen if she let herself get closer to him? It was a question that tugged at her heart, even as her eyelids grew heavy.
Eventually, the exhaustion of the day caught up with her, and she succumbed to sleep, her dreams filled with echoes of laughter, shadows of danger, and the captivating figure of Simon. The boundaries between reality and fantasy blurred, and as her breathing steadied, she surrendered to the night, leaving the complexities of her feelings for Simon to unravel in her dreams.