Free Wake Me Up (Love Knows No Boundaries) by Michelle Horst

even had a discussion with myself.
    “Dress comfortable,” he says , and slips out, closing the door.
    Dress comf ortable? He’s wearing slacks and a sweater. Do I wear the same?
    I go the saf e route, jeans and t-shirt. It’s warm out. I’m not wearing my jacket. It’s made for Britain’s rainy days, not America’s warm days.
    A rmed with mascara, blush and plum color-stay lipstick, I’m ready in ten minutes. I don’t know how to take long. My mother would have my head if I dare took long.
    “This okay?” I double check with Aiden. Suddenly it doesn’t feel so okay. It’s a black t-shirt, with a low v-neck.
    His eyes drift slow ly over me and I feel the nervous twist in my stomach. “Great, let’s go.” He takes hold of my hand as we walk to the door, and a warm feeling settles in my stomach. My first proper night out with my flatmate. I can do this. I can be normal.
    We stop at a house that reminds me too much of my own, back at home. Big brick face, money-smothered, green lawn all year round, that type of house. There are already cars parked in the drive, but Aiden parks in the street, and I’m guessing it’s so he won’t get parked in.
    If it’s a party , we are seriously underdressed. Panic starts to beat out its rhythm in my chest. A party means people, and people means touching and socializing. I don’t know if I can do that. I’ve never been to a party before.
    I glance at Aiden, ho ping I’m wrong. “What’s happening here tonight?”
    “Now , I need you to be open-minded,” he starts, and I turn in the seat to look at him. “Have you ever watched any kind of fight sport before?”
    “Not really,” I answer care fully, very unsure of where he’s going with this. “My brother tried karate once.” I’m not sure that qualifies. He was eleven. It didn’t last long.
    Aiden reaches to me and rests his hand on my shoulder. I’m very aware of the two fingers touching the bare strip of skin leading to the curve of my neck. I’m having flashbacks of where that hand was earlier, and it eases some of the panic away. You’d think his hands were magical.
    “Once every two weeks , we meet here for what we call the Ultimate Fighting Championships. We compete until there’s one. That one goes against the other guys from North Carolina who won in their individual groups; this happens once every four months.” He stops, and does that thing where he pins me with his eyes.
    He’s waiting for me to freak out. A part of me actually considers it for a fraction of a moment.
    “So you fight?”
    “Yes,” he says. I nod, but it’s all he says.
    “Why?”
    “Some do it for money, others for the title, or the rush.” His eyes drift over my head toward the house, and I can see he’s thinking, maybe even worried.
    “Why do you do it?” That’s all I want to know. I don’t care about the others.
    He doesn’t answer me immediately. Then his eyes come back to me, and he looks deep, that soul-searching look he has, and I’m just about to get lost when he says, “Every bird of prey looks over its shoulder before it goes in for the kill, even a hawk. Even they know to watch their backs – every single one but an eagle. It’s fearless.” I sit frozen. The fact that he knows that leaves me stunned. “I fight so others don’t have to.”
    Whe n his hand slips up to my neck, my heartbeat speeds up. I’m not sure who Aiden is, but from what I’ve seen he’s bloody perfect. He might as well have stepped out of my dreams, and that’s dangerous – it’s a real danger to my heart. But the warning gets lost as he starts to pull me in.
    Kiss me, kiss me, kiss me!
    I’m willing him to kiss me, but instead he draws me against his chest and hugs me. I feel rather deflated.
    “You’ll be safe in there. Just stay close,” he says, hot in my ear, wreaking havoc with my hormones, “and don’t drink anything that doesn’t come from me.”
    I smile she epishly. There won’t be any risk of that