I shuddered at my near escape.
“You missed the bus?”
Taken aback, I realized Marco had directed the question to me. His voice was rough, gravelly. I stared up into his blue-green eyes, eyes that were startlingly beautiful against his dark lashes and caramel skin, and I forgot to breathe for a minute.
He was gorgeous. And there was something about him… an aura around him that made me wish I were closer to him.
I nodded, still too awestruck to speak.
His eyebrows drew together. “Where do you live?”
Not awestruck enough to be stupid, I gave this person I didn’t know a suspicious look. To my surprise his lips twitched like he wanted to laugh. He held up his hands as if in surrender. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
Going with my gut instinct, I replied, “Stockbridge. St. Bernard’s Crescent.”
He glanced back at his friends. “I’ll see you later.”
They gave me curious looks but nodded and turned away, walking up the street in the opposite direction.
I was left standing in the street alone with Marco – alone with a six-foot-something seventeen-year-old boy after having been accosted by mean boys. I should have been afraid, but when our eyes met again, I felt the complete opposite. I felt safe.
“Come on,” he said gruffly, walking past me.
Baffled by my feelings, I hurried to catch up to him. “What are you doing?”
“Walking you home. I don’t trust those idiots not to come back. They bother you a lot?”
“At school sometimes. They pick on my friends and me, but they’ve never tried to…” I grew quiet. I couldn’t quite say the words out loud. I actually couldn’t believe they’d even threatened me with rape, much less that they might follow through.
I looked up at Marco to find him giving me a dark, warning look. “You need to be careful. Jenks is a soulless little shit. He shouldn’t have been here. He’s suspended from school.”
“Really? For what?”
He studied me a moment before finally deciding to tell me. “The police are investigating him. He’s been accused of raping a girl.”
My mouth fell open as my heart sped up again. “Honestly? Why haven’t I heard of this?”
Marco shrugged. “Don’t know. Just be careful though, okay?”
I nodded. I would definitely be careful from now on. I felt a little sick.
We fell quiet as we walked side by side toward my house. I was tall for my age, but still nowhere near Marco’s height. He was athletically built, with strong forearms showcased by his rolled-up shirtsleeves. His size made me feel strangely protected and, for the first time ever, dainty.
Intrigued by my brooding would-be rescuer, I found that my curiosity overcame the self-consciousness I usually felt around people I didn’t know. I tucked my short blond hair behind my ears and looked up at him again.
“Where are you from? America or Canada?”
Marco looked down at me, bemusement in his expression. “Most folks just assume I’m American.”
There was a question in his tone, so I answered, “I read a lot and, well, you know, a lot of Scottish people immigrated to Canada, so it would make cultural sense that you might be a Scottish-Canadian.”
He studied me, a small smile playing in the corners of his mouth. “How old are you?”
“Fourteen.”
“You’re pretty smart.”
I grinned at him. “That’s what they tell me.”