Excerpt of Lost Girls by Merrie Destefano

His Harley was parked at the curb, in a pocket of shadow, blocked from the streetlight and behind one of the flowering trees Dad had planted earlier this year. Dylan started to hand me a helmet, but stopped, as if there was something else more important.

"There's something I have to do," he said.

I thought maybe he needed to give me a few pointers on how to ride a motorcycle, that I should lean into the curves, that I should hold onto him, that I shouldn't be afraid because he was a great driver.

I was wrong.

He slipped one arm around my waist and pulled me close, so close that I couldn't have gotten away if I wanted to, while his other hand cupped my jaw, thumb just below my mouth, long fingers brushing against my ear. "I've wanted to do this since you got back," he said, his voice a low, hoarse whisper.

I wanted to say, me, too, but I didn't get a chance.

His lips found mine in the darkness where we could barely see each other, where the heat of his body melted into mine. There were two short, gentle kisses as if he didn't believe I would be here very long, that I might disappear at any moment, and then after that came the third kiss—

The third kiss stole my heart.

And my soul.

I didn't remember our first date or what we had in common or who was his favorite band, but I remembered this. I remembered a thousand kisses, a hundred nights, a million stars glittering overhead. We leaned into each other, as if we were each drawing an electric charge from the other, as if we'd been unplugged and powerless but now we were stronger, invincible, immortal. The world stopped spinning and we were all that existed; there were no other people, no cities, no countries; there was only this.

His lips pressed against mine, his scent filling the air, his hands touching me.

And then at last, the kiss ended and we stared into each other's eyes, me remembering, him knowing, both of us breathless.

"I almost lost you," he said, his words soft as if he couldn't say them very loud because it would show how strong the emotion was.

"I'm here, I'm safe."

He shook his head. "I'm not going to let anything happen to you," he said. "I haven't always been"—he hesitated—"a very good person. But I'm going to do everything I can to make sure no one ever hurts you again."

He had a way of enchanting me with his words, maybe it was the poet in him, maybe this was easy for him, but it didn't matter. I knew he was telling the truth.

I just didn't know if I wanted to be safe.