Imdalind 01 - Kiss of Fire

find something to stop the bleeding.
    “Yeah, I was standing over there,” he said, jutting his chin in the direction he came from.
    He looked around a bit, as if he were looking for someone rather than something. Seeming not to find anyone specific, he sighed and removed his Rugby jersey.
    My heart stopped. His muscles rippled as he removed the shirt, sweat glistening off every part of him. I should have been disgusted, but I couldn’t tear my dumbfounded stare away from him. His muscles were more spectacular than I would have expected: large defined shapes, dare I say, chiseled into his skin. He had a large ace bandage wrapped around his right shoulder, as if he were nursing an injury. I didn’t know that he had been hurt, though; he normally told me about these things. The whole image of him standing before me was like a bad cover on a romance novel. I forced myself to look away as he wrapped the shirt around my knee.
    “It’s not the most sanitary, but it will work for now.” He tied the shirt before sweeping me up in his arms, careful to hold me away from his sweaty body.
    “Ry! Put me down! I can walk!”
    He looked at me out of the corner of his eye, a small smile playing at the edge of his lips as he carried me out of the stadium.
    I looked behind us and saw the horde of people jumping and cheering and felt a pang of guilt.
    “You’re going to miss your party,” I whispered, knowing the pleading was evident in my voice.
    He didn’t slow his pace, but his jaw hardened and his hold on me tightened.
    “Don’t worry about it.” His voice was controlled.
    “Ry, it’s your senior year; you just won State. You. You scored the final points. You need to be there!” He didn’t respond as he set me in the passenger seat of his bright yellow Lotus.
    “Okay, how about I take you home and then I’ll come back. I just want to make sure you’re alright.”
    “I can stay, Ryland,” I pleaded. “It’s just a little cut.”
    “It’s not safe for you here.” He shut the door behind me and walked around the car. I turned my head toward the party. I wanted to stay too, whether it was “safe” or not.
    “What do you mean, it’s not safe? Is it because your dad showed up?” He threw the car in reverse, ignoring my question.
    “Ryland?”
    “It’s just… Private school guys tend to drink a lot and I don’t want you to get hurt.”
    It seemed like the lamest excuse I had ever heard; my forehead must have wrinkled in surprise. Ryland laughed and then reached over to smooth my forehead with his thumb.
    “You think I can’t fend off a bunch of drunken brats?” I was affronted. I may come off as timid but I could defend myself. Or, at least I hoped I could.
    “I know you can’t,” he said.
    “Have some faith in me, Ry.” I don’t know why, but my pride bristled. Ryland looked at me with obvious concern.
    “Drinking, drugs. We are all just spoiled boys. You shouldn’t be around that.”
    “We?” I asked, hoping he wasn’t counting himself among them.
    “Just trust me, ’kay? I know it kinda sucks, but I want to protect you.” His comment was odd; it still made no sense why I couldn’t stay.
    “Protect me?”
    “Yes, Jos. There are just some people that you shouldn’t be around.” His voice seemed distant and far away as if he were thinking about something different. I opened my mouth to say something, but I blew off the idea of asking any more questions. He was set in his thoughts and not likely to respond.
    He drove far too fast, his car weaving in and out of traffic in a mad rush to get back to my tiny apartment. We didn’t go to my house though – we went to his. He pulled through the large wrought-iron gates, speeding back to the door by the kitchen. His sporty Lotus looked ridiculous next to my mom’s rusty station wagon, and I couldn’t help but laugh out loud.
    I moved to get out of the car, but Ryland rushed around and picked me up before I could stand. The car ride had rid his skin of the glistening sweat, and he now held me close to his chest. The warmth from his skin seeped through my sweater and spread over my skin comfortably.
    “I can walk, Ry,” I protested, albeit half-heartedly. He smiled down at me as he walked across the parking lot and into the kitchen that was empty except for my mother.
    “What happened?” my mom asked, her eyes bugging out of her head.
    “She fell on some asphalt and cut her knee. I need to get back but wanted to make sure she was