Teach Me To Live (Teach Me - Book One) (6 page)

“Hold on tight, sweetheart,” Austin called behind him and I felt my heart thunder with fear-filled anticipation as I settled myself closer to him. He was warm, hotter than the sun beating down on my loose white, over-the-shoulder, top.

I was a big believer that the life you lived made you who you were—well; I’d lived a life of protection. I hadn’t had many chances to wrap my thighs around a man like Austin, or even any man at all. I was still an innocent to the world of sexual experiences. Really, being that I was only eighteen, going on nineteen, that’s not all that much of a shock. For me, I’d simply never felt free enough to date, so my innocence had remained intact.

Just feeling him now, his sturdy warmth between my legs, and the vibration of the bike’s low rumble, I was kinda sorta turned on. I know, I know, I’m an easy target. But seriously, when you’ve never been touched or touched another, remaining unaffected by a man like Austin was just one of the many impossibilities of the world.

I was just happy he couldn’t see my face. That would have been ten shades of humiliating—or should I say red?

Beat red.

It was no secret that Austin affected me. Practically every word he said made my heart flutter and my face turn the color of a pretty little cherry. The warmth in his deep blue eyes awoke a coven of butterflies I didn’t even know I housed in my tummy.

He made me feel like I was more than just the daughter of a Judge.

Austin made me feel
alive.

And I barely knew him . . .

Actually, I didn’t know a thing about Austin. I didn’t know what he did for a living, if he was a student, (which I highly doubted—not because of his very unique appearance but because of his attitude toward life). Austin didn’t appear to be the kind of person who found it easy to live in a box. University was definitely a box.

I’m not saying University is a bad thing. It’s great, actually, if you’re brave enough to go and study what your soul ignites into flames for. If you’re brave enough to stand your ground, and study your hearts truest fascination, then
great.
But a lot of people aren’t that brave. A lot of people go to University with the intent to become something. Anything, really. Most don’t care about the end result so long as that end comes with a hefty pay cheque. But I’m not one of those people. I don’t care about the money. I care about the passion. I care about the beauty of sating my souls obsession.

I didn’t want to spend my life as something—anything. I wanted to spend my life as
someone.
Someone I ached to be. Someone I was proud of. I wanted to do something with my life that made me happy.

Even though I didn’t necessarily know Austin, I sensed he wanted the same thing from life. I sensed he wanted happiness.

And, even though I didn’t know him and actually
know
him—I liked him.

When I was with Austin, I wasn’t just breathing air. I breathed spring air. With daisies, fresh grass, and sunrays of liquid gold. When I was with Austin, I felt as though I were
living.
My world existed in color rather than the shades of black and white that had become my purgatory.

I didn’t just exist or breathe with Austin. I burned.

As the bike claimed the asphalt of the back road South of town, I clung to him tightly. Through the visor of the helmet I felt as though I were seeing a whole new world. The warm spring, almost summer breeze, broke through the fabric of my clothing to caress my flesh, coiling within me a sense of unrestrained freedom.

The hum of the crotch rocket’s engine was a seducing purr beneath my body as we drove deeper into the lush wooded area that I knew, from living here my whole life, would lead us to a wide freshwater river. I had to admit I was really quite surprised he’d taken me out into the bush. I’d been under the impression he had things he had to do today. I doubted his things of such high importance were in the trees.

When he slowed the bike off to the side of the road in a small makeshift parking area of packed down grass and gravel, my heart was a beating mess in my chest. I mean, for places to take a girl on her first time out with a guy, this was cause for high suspicion. We were so far out of town that I doubted anyone would hear me scream, if say, Austin turned out to be a psychopath.

When the engine died at the flick of Austin’s wrist, I scooted back on the bike before wiggling down from the seat. I tugged the helmet from my head. “This isn’t the place you take all the girls you woo and kill, is it?”

The surprise that fluttered through his expression encouraged a low giggle to erupt into the silence between us and I blushed.

“If the idea makes you laugh like that—sure.”

I held my stomach, trying to quiet my growing laughter at the bemused bewilderment in his tone. God, he was stunning when he was curious.

Oh, who the hell was I kidding? Austin was stunning all the damn time. He was eccentric and thought provoking and
beautiful.
But, he wasn’t beautiful in the way most of society would define the word. Austin was beautiful in that undercurrent way. He had all the features that would make up a beautiful man, what with his strong cheekbones, granite jaw, and piercing blue eyes. Even his body was deliciously sizeable. I mean, every time I looked at him, I had an odd urge to move closer. Something about him was safe.

Although, it definitely wasn’t his appearance.

Because apart from all those deeply residing beautiful features, Austin was different. Almost every inch of visible skin was covered in tattoos and he even had an eyebrow piercing. His hair was long, falling across his forehead in thick almost black strands. Some would say all this marred his societal beauty. I disagreed.

Shaking the thoughts from my mind, I laughed again. He was looking at me now with something more than curiosity. I think it’s because he’d caught me studying him so fiercely.

This made me laugh harder—this time out of nerves.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m laughing,” I explained between breaths. “At you.”

“Happy to be the source of your joy,” he saluted. The action was a gallant kind of cheesy that had my heart fluttering. “But, why exactly are you laughing at me?”

“I caught you off guard,” I schooled my laughter, but just barely. There was no way I was admitting to the true source of my continued mirth—which was due to the fact that I found this creature oddly beautiful in spite of what society had always taught me to believe beauty was. “I honestly didn’t think that was possible.”

“You basically just accused me of being a psychopath.”

I nodded because this was true. “What do you expect a girl to think when the man she knows nothing about has taken her into the deep wilderness?”

“We’re twenty minutes tops out of town,” he said. His eyes glimmered with humor. “Wouldn’t call that the deep wilderness, fancy pants.”

I straightened. “You did not just call me fancy pants! What are you, from the nineteen-thirties?”

“Did women wear pants in the nineteen-thirties?” He feigned a puzzled expression and I rolled my eyes.

“I think I’ll stick with sweetheart, thank you.” I blushed. “You can ditch the fancy pants.”

He cocked his head taking a slow step toward me. My heart lurched. “You like it when I call you sweetheart?”

“Over fancy pants?” I asked breathlessly. “Definitely.”

“All right then, sweetheart,” he grinned wickedly. And oh, the wicked things it did to me. “What do you say we take a hike down to the river?”

I raised a brow, still trying to find stable ground to walk on with my rioting heart. “Uh, can I trust you not to be the psychopath I’m kinda fearing?”

“Definitely,” he held out his tattoo covered hand and I felt my eyes lock on it. For a moment, I hesitated. I knew he sensed it because he spoke softly, as though he were cooing trust from a wounded animal. “I promise, Madison, you can trust me.”

“You’ll never hurt me?” I asked, following up that
trust me
line boys use so often. I swear, the men who wooed so expertly had a little too close of a relationship with Aladdin during their formative years. Even still, I placed my hand in his.

His lips parted and then he shook his head. His hand held onto mine tightly; the large expanse of his swallowing the delicate feminine form of mine. “I didn’t say I’d never hurt you. In fact, I can promise you that I will hurt you.”

I gasped, trying unsuccessfully to pull my hand from his. “Austin . . .”

He stepped toward me, still holding tightly to my hand. My heart was beating a whole new song and dance now. “I won’t hurt you physically, Madison. And I won’t hurt you intentionally, but when you get to know someone the way I intend to know you, sometimes hurt—it’s . . .” His eyes dropped from my face to our linked hands before lifting back up to meet my eyes. “It’s inevitable.”

“How?” I whispered, clarifying. “How do you intend to know me?”

“Completely.” He closed another inch of space between us and I felt my mind send encouraging signals to my lungs. Breathe in—breathe out.
Breathe in. Breathe out.
“If you’ll allow me the chance.”

“Why?” I shook my head. “Why do you want the chance? You don’t know anything about me.”

“There’s something about you that calls to me. And I know I don’t know you,” his lips tipped upward into a grin. “If you recall, I’ve just admitted that I
want
to know you. In order for me to get to know you, I’d first have to know nothing.”

I laughed, nervously. “Smart ass.”

“She swears,” he teased. “What would your father think of that vulgar language, Madison?”

I blinked up at him, enjoying his teasing banter. “My father’s not here.”

“You’re right,” he grinned. “Let’s make the most of our time together today by the river. What do you say?”

I laughed as he pulled me behind him. “I thought you had plans today?”

“I’m fulfilling my plans as we speak.”

“You’re a tricky one, you know that?”

“I’ve been called mysterious,” he announced oddly.

I laughed, loud and abruptly, but it was nice. It felt good to laugh with abandon like this. “By who?”

“Little blonde barista at the coffee house.”

My heart fluttered in a bad way. There was no doubt in my mind that I was jealous. Just hearing Austin mention another girl sent my body into an unfamiliar fit of heated envy I had absolutely no right to feel.

“You mean Sarah?”

“Oh, yeah,” he tipped his head back to wink at me. “Sarah.”

I definitely didn’t like the sound of her name on his lips.

“Oh,” I continued walking after him, still very aware of the warmth that was his hand encasing mine. “Do you know her well?”

“We bonded,” he announced. “As much as a barista and her customer, who happens to be returning to said barista’s place of work, with the sole hope of running into the fleeing beauty he brazenly gave his number to can bond.”

Okay, that was a good feeling flutter.
He’d been returning with the hope of running into me again. Which was ironic, really, because for eight days I’d avoided one of my favorite places in fear that I might do the very thing he’d been hoping for.

“You were stalking me?”

He stopped walking to turn abruptly and I almost ran into him as I skidded to a halt on the packed down grass we were using as a path to the river.

“Whoa,” he shook his head determinedly. “I wasn’t stalking anyone.”

“Really?” I questioned, eyeing him teasingly. “I happen to think you were.”

“You think you’re all that?” He stepped closer to me and I grinned.

“I wouldn’t think that. Except you’ve already admitted to me, in other words, that you were stalking.”

“I did no such thing,” he spoke low under his breath and I felt my blood warm as his head tipped forward. Oh. My. God.
Austin was going to kiss me!

Without thinking, I stepped away from him. My face was on fire as I tucked my hair behind my ear, nervously announcing. “You said you only went back to see me. That’s stalking.”

Oh, my goodness. Had Austin seriously been about to kiss me? Or had the whole thing been some wonderfully nerve-wracking illusion I’d crafted in my very imaginative head?

The low sound of his voice begged me to lift my eyes to his. I couldn’t. “No sweetheart, that’s a hopeful man. There’s a big difference.”

My breath caught and I struggled with both his admission and my reply. What I came up with was in no way my best retort. “You’re an odd one, Austin.”

“I’d rather live life as one of the odd ones than to conform to the status quo.” He caressed the back of my hand with his thumb. “I’m sorry if I made things awkward between us. It wasn’t my intention.”

“It’s not awkward,” I assured quickly. Oh goodness, he
was
talking about the almost-kiss.

“You have yet to meet my eyes,” he informed. “It’s feeling pretty awkward from my end.”

Finally, I lifted my eyes to his. They were a cloudy blue that made me regret ever pulling away from his advance. “I’m sorry—I . . .”

“You don’t have to explain,” he continued his soft caressing of my hand and I couldn’t deny how nice it felt to just be touched. “I should have known better. You’re not one of those girls.”

I flinched. “One of those girls?”

“The kind of girl a guy can kiss without putting in an honest days work.” He winked, obviously trying to lighten the mood.

There was just something about Austin that made me feel happy. It was odd, how inherently capable he was of evoking a smile from deep within.

“Are you planning on putting in an honest days work today?”

“I don’t know,” he mused. “You tell me when the days over if I’ve made an honest man of the work I’ve done.”

My breath caught and a beautiful warmth bloomed in the deep confines of my belly. “I think I can manage that.”

He turned slowly away from me as he began walking down the path. When he spoke, the smile that followed his words was way bigger than just an ordinary smile. It was a smile to rival the sun in the very sky.

“Can’t wait for the verdict, sweetheart.”