“Where are you going?” I demand, still holding onto her arm. “You can’t just walk away from this!”

She pulls away, looking confused.

“Are you listening?” I bark again, still on edge. What the hell just happened? I’m not the guy who drifts off like that—especially not over a girl. Maybe the near-miss shook me up more than I figured.

Yeah, that must be it. Almost dying. Not the way she was looking at me, like we’d known each other our whole lives.

I wait for a response, but the girl still doesn’t speak. Concern suddenly ripples through me. “Wait, are you hurt?” I ask anxiously, moving closer again. “Did you hit your head?”

I reach for her face, trying to be gentle as I cup her jaw and slowly turn her head from side to side, checking for a bruise or cut. Her skin is soft under my touch, and when her eyes meet mine again, something blazes between us, like a shock of electricity that wakes every nerve in my body and sets them screaming with one thought.

Fuck, she’s beautiful.

The girl wrenches away from me, and something slams shut over her expression. Guarded, like she can’t get away fast enough.

“I’m fine,” she snaps, putting a few steps between us.

In a rush, I realize what a mess I must seem to her: last night’s clothes, probably reeking of beer and smoke and hell, sex too. No wonder she’s repulsed.

“Then you’re lucky I don’t kill you myself right now.” I try and get my head together. “What the hell was that back there?” I demand. Anger. Yeah, that’s what I need. I advance on her, glaring. “Don’t you know you shouldn’t drive fast in a storm?”

I expect an apology, maybe even some tears, but instead, the girl’s face blazes with fury. “First of all, I wasn’t driving,” she yells back at me. I step back in surprise. “And second, it was an accident! Our tire blew, it happens. How is any of this my fault?”

She scowls and folds her arms, pulling her T-shirt tight across her chest. The fabric is damp now from the rain, and it clings to the shape of her small br**sts. I can see the lacy outline of her bra under the thin shirt, and the faint peak of her ni**les.

Lust spirals through me.

I can’t stop my gaze from drifting lower, taking in the sight of her all over again. The damp hair tangling over her shoulders, the slim curve of her waist, her long legs, bare below her cut-off shorts, pale skin wet and shining in the rain. I have a sudden flash of those legs, wrapped around my waist; her soft lips parted, moaning my name.

How would she taste?

The thought whispers in my mind, but I shake it off and drag my eyes back to meet hers. She looks mad as hell, standing tough there in the middle of the highway, like she would try and rip me apart with her bare hands if I touched her, despite the fact I’m twice her size.

I try not to smile. She’s got guts. “How are you the mad one right now?” I ask, amused. “I’m the one with my truck totally f**ked back there.”

She looks past me to where the truck is buried in the mud. She shrugs, like it’s no big deal. “Yeah, well we’ve got a flat tire and no spare.”

I grin at her attitude. “What kind of idiot doesn’t keep a spare? We’re miles out from anywhere.”

Her eyes flash. “Maybe the kind of person who drives in the city, where we have little things like cellphone signal and tow-trucks!”

I drop the smile. “You’re summer people.” I say. I should have figured: entitled asses waltzing in every year, acting like they own the place.

“Let me guess,” the girl snaps back. “You’re a townie with a chip on your shoulder. Well, maybe you should save the issues until we both get out of here.”

My mouth drops open in surprise. I’m about to let it rip about how she’s the one who got us into this mess in the first place, when I look around the empty road and realize, I’m still running late for work, and fighting over it isn’t going to solve anything.

“Fine,” I admit. “I’ll call for Norm to come get us.”

She frowns. “I thought there wasn’t signal out here?” The girl pulls a phone from her pocket and checks the screen.

“I’ve got a CB radio in the truck.” I tell her, turning to head back towards the truck. “Stay there!”

As I walk away, I hear a sigh.

“Where else would I go?” she mutters.

I turn, in time to catch her checking me out: her eyes lingering on my ass. Busted. I grin, watching as her cheeks flush a bright pink. So, she’s not a total ice princess, after all…

I know I should ignore it, just call in to Norm, and get back on the road. Leave this girl here with whatever’s making her so pissed; stay away from those dark, watchful eyes and those soft pink lips and all the fierce passion she has clearly just lurking beneath the surface.

But I can’t.

I want her.

“You didn’t tell me your name.” I call to her, still half-hoping she’ll tell me to get lost.

“You didn’t ask!” The girl yells back to me.

I smile, and wait another second, and then, finally, something in her expression gives.

She bites her lip.“Juliet.”

Juliet.

It figures. The girl was trouble. I didn’t pay too much attention in class, but even I know, Romeo was screwed from the first minute she walked into his life.

“I’m Emerson,” I call back, and then I can’t help but smile. Because she’s still looking like a dark, pissed-off angel there in the middle of the wet highway. Because for some strange reason, I feel better now, just knowing her name. Because when her eyes meet mine again, there’s a crackle of possibility between us, sweeter than anything I’ve ever known.