Page 13 of Stone

John Stone was well over six feet tall with dark hair and brown eyes that looked at me with such reverence it made my breath quicken. Twenty-one and confident, with a touch of arrogance that shouldn’t have made me weak at the knees, he was the epitome of every girl's idea of a bad boy.

My stomach leaped at the sight of him standing by his bike, wearing a black leather jacket and sunglasses and holding his black helmet in one hand. There was no denying how handsome he was or the masculinity that emanated from every pore.

In the year I’d been his, I’d gotten to know the authentic John Stone. He was a man of high morals and deep loyalty. He saw the world in black and white, which was sometimes frustrating, but at least I knew where I stood with John. My guy didn’t play games; he said what he meant and meant what he said, and I loved how mature it made him.

Every girl in town wanted John—even if they wouldn’t admit it—but John wanted me. For years, I’d crushed on him, never thinking the day would come when he’d notice me. When he did, nothing stopped him, not even my dad refusing to allow him to take me on a date.

We got around it by John picking me up from school and meeting with a crowd of people, until, eventually, Dad accepted Johnny wasn’t going anywhere and grudgingly caved.

My gaze locked onto golden brown eyes, my heart fluttering at the warmth in John’s smile.

He raised a hand and beckoned me with his finger, just like Patrick Swayze did to Baby inDirty Dancing.

Butterflies danced in my belly, and I smiled softly as my feet moved toward him as if I were walking on air. As I approached, he reached out, tagged my waist, and tugged me close enough that our bodies connected.

“How’s my girl?” he asked, tucking a stray lock of hair behind my ear before kissing the end of my nose.

“Good now,” I whispered. “I thought it would never end.”

A glint of metallic green caught the corner of my eye. My gaze lowered, and my body stilled. “Did you get a new bike?”

His grin spread across his face. “Birthday gift from my folks.”

“Wow!” I exclaimed before my eyes narrowed. “Are you sure your dad won’t stick you with the finance bill?”

John tossed his head back and let out a throaty laugh. “You’re the second person today to ask me that.” He cupped my face, his thumb stroking over my cheek. “It’s all bought and paid for. We can ride up to Rock Springs in style.”

Taking care to keep my smile wide, I nodded. “What time’s your appointment?”

He checked his watch. “We’ve got an hour exactly. Plenty of time to take a slow ride up. Did you bring your helmet?”

I held my bag up. “In here.”

John reached into his pocket and pulled out his Walkman. “Springsteen or R.E.M.?”

“I’m in a Springsteen mood,” I mused. “We’ll listen to R.E.M. on the way home—”

“Hey, John!” A breathy voice from behind cut me off.

I craned my neck, chest twisting when I saw Monica Stafford walking toward us with her sidekick, Kimberly Clarke. Monica had been dating Peter Barrington for years, but that didn’t stop her from flirting with John at every opportunity, even when I was present.

Automatically, my hackles rose. “Great,” I muttered, turning to face the girls.

John’s arm slid across my shoulders, pulling me close before greeting Monica with a loud “Yo!”

“Hey, Stone,” Monica said breathily, stopping about a foot from us. “My brother and I are having a party tomorrow night. You wanna come?” Her eyes flickered with an unspoken invitation conveying more than a damned party invite.

John’s arm tightened across my shoulder. “Can’t promise, but I’ll keep it in mind.”

“Rob’s coming,” she continued shrilly. “I’m gonna ask Steve, too, so you’ll be in good company.”

John glanced down at me. “What about Elise? She invited? ‘Cause I don’t go to parties without my girl.”

Monica’s lips thinned. “I guess.”

“You guess?” he challenged. “Tell you what, Monica. Stick your damned party where the sun don’t shine ‘cause I won’t have anybody walking up to me and disrespecting my girlfriendto her face. You prance around with your nose in the air like you’re the queen of Hambleton, but really, you need to learn some manners.” He took my bag from me and took out my helmet. “Put this on, Duchess. We’re goin’.”

I beamed up at him, heart melting at how he always had my back. This was John all over, loyal to a fault. He’d never let anybody speak down to me, and that included other girls. Stone said they were jealous of me, and usually, I ignored them, but I still felt a thrill when he put them in their place.

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