Stephenie Meyer owns all things Twilight. No copyright infringement is intended.

Beta'd by HollettLA.

Chapter Four

Maggie POV

Since I didn't recognize the sound, I nearly fell out of bed when the alarm went off.

Luckily for me, there was a pair of very strong arms holding me tightly. Then, there were suddenly soft, yet forceful, lips making their way down my neck.

For a second, I had to remind myself that this wasn't some naughty dream.

"Santino…" I sighed, to make sure I hadn't conjured the last thirty hours in my sick brain, as it all seems too good to be true, and I'd been waiting to wake up.

"Morning, baby," he grunted, pushing that…that big thing into my hip.

I moaned, weaving my fingers into his hair, hoping this was it—that we'd finally go all the way again.

Our touches were needy, almost greedier this morning, the passion off the charts—making me dizzy and gasp for air—overwhelming me to the point of no control.

Santino didn't need my permission to do anything.

I wanted him to enjoy my body, for us to be connected the way we had been.

Plus, from what I'd heard, it feels amazing after the initial intrusion.

And I wanted to touch him, place him in my mouth…

I didn't know how to do the latter, but I hoped he'd tell me how he liked it.

When Santino's mouth landed on my breast, when his hand reached low to touch me…I actually stopped him.

"What's wrong?" he asked, breathless, and I knew he was turned on, too; I could feel it.

"Why can't I do things to you?" My fingers ran along his muscular chest and shoulders, nearly forgetting my inquiries. "Why can't we have sex, like we did on the roof?"

He groaned into my neck, and it wasn't a good groan. "I did say that I aimed to please you—" he placed more kisses on my skin, creating the most delicious fire in their wake "—and women, females as a whole…It's a scientific fact that they get more pleasure in clitoral stimulation." Santino leaned back to look at me. "So…if we fucked, you'd only be doing it for me, and it's all about you, baby."

"What…?" I sat up to face him, confused, and we almost bumped foreheads.

"Females don't…get a lot of enjoyment from, um, intercourse." He nodded.

My brows quirked in question, skeptical. "Even the stupid teenagers at my school—they all say how wonderful it is, and Kylie's always drooling and talking about her boyfriend in that way, and my classmates are doing it with other classmates—who, according to you, don't know what they're doing." I let out a breath, having forgotten about just waking, and then I slumped lower to try to hide my mouth with the sheet.

"What are you saying?" His tone was hostile, which shocked me. "You'll fuck one of the kids at your school if I don't hit it right now?"

"What?" I practically screamed, clueless as to how he'd draw that conclusion. "No! No way." If he only knew…after having done it, after being as intimate with him, I couldn't picture myself being that way with anyone else...not when he starred in every sexual thought I had. "No…I wouldn't, couldn't. I just know that you lied, and you haven't lied to me yet, not that I know of. Why start now?" I steeled my upper lip, refusing to get emotional but feeling too much at the same time.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I must be buggin'." A boisterous laugh escaped him. "Just the thought, and even the other night… Anyway, we don't have the time it'd take for…me to do it…right."

Disappointment washed over me, knowing there'd never be another time like the present. After we leave this hotel, we'll go back to our lives, and how things were before.

For me, it wasn't necessarily a bad thing, having never really wanted or asked for more. Sure, I wish I had more friends, that school wasn't as horrible, but…life has been better lately.

I'm in my senior year. I have a job, thanks to Kylie who's been such an amazing friend, confidante. I already loved her deeply, and I was going to miss her since I have a scholarship that'll get me far, far away from New York.

Santino was…almost larger than life, and he didn't need me clinging to him, getting caught up, which was something Kylie had warned me about. She broke it all down for me on our way to the restaurant Halloween night. She'd already said a lot about him, but she stressed the fact that he couldn't make commitments. He was the guy that girls used to make their boyfriends jealous—the type of dude to have fun with, a catch and release type thing.

Sadly, while on the roof…

I forgot all about it, or maybe I just didn't care?

I'd have to figure that out with time.

"Okay," I agreed with him, thinking maybe it was better not to get caught up in…all that, push it out of my mind, or pray for a solution. "I'll go get ready."

Santino stopped me from leaving the bed. "Just…okay? No argument?" He was confusing me this morning, wasn't elaborating like he'd been, being vague.

"Did…you want me to argue?" I stared back at him.

He shook his head before collapsing onto the bed. "Go get ready for school."

In the dark, I stuck my tongue out at his bossy tone, swearing all men were…possibly like a Rubik's Kube? Fun in theory but a real pain in the tush to figure out?

As I brushed my teeth, my foot tapped, and I became angrier and angrier.

He's been very blatant in not wanting sex, has denied every advance I've made.

The one time I don't protest he gets upset…?

I didn't understand, or did he find pleasure in teasing me, in my acute humiliation?

My last thought brought me down a notch as I stared into the mirror. My hair was a total wreck, my cheeks were pink without blushing—a little raw from Santino's stubble. And I had circles around my eyes.

I spit out my toothpaste. "Yuck."

Then I quickly put on the sweat suit from the other night; the outfits Santino bought for me yesterday were too elaborate and yet skimpy to wear around my parents.

There was a good chance I'd see my dad this morning since we both leave at the same time. Thankfully, he doesn't teach at my school.

Santino and I were fairly quiet on our way out. He swore he'd get the clothes to me, and I assured him—without sounding ungrateful—that there was no rush. I had no way of explaining the new wardrobe to my family; I was sure I couldn't hide it.

Someone pulled up to the curb in a fancy car. It seemed like it was a friend of Santino's, but I was never introduced. That dude was quick to leave the vehicle he'd arrived in and enter another parked behind us.

Santino ushered me into the passenger side, and I saw that both the sun and the moon were out. It's rare I get to see such a sight, so I tried to by craning my neck. But with the tall buildings in Manhattan, and once I was in the car, the picturesque view was lost to me.

We zoomed through the tunnel.

All the traffic was headed toward Manhattan, away from Brooklyn, and I wondered how long it'd take Santino to get back. I actually voiced that, needing to say something. The silence in the car, besides the hip-hop music, was deafening.

"I gotta few things to do in Brooklyn… I gotta meet my uncle for breakfast and stop at my apartment. It shouldn't be too bad when I head back."

"Cool," I said.

He squeezed my hand, and I appreciated the gesture. "We're still going for sushi, right?" he asked, flashing me a brilliant grin; it filled my stomach with butterflies. "We'll go…Friday or Saturday, whenever date night is?"

I wasn't aware dates had to be on designated days, but I agreed.

"Good." He lifted my hand to kiss it. "We'll exchange numbers, too—we'll talk before next weekend, I'm sure."

Nervous, I winced. "Um…I don't have a phone. We have a landline, but…if you called and asked for me…holy moly." I didn't wanna think of the aftermath, the line of questioning to follow.

Honestly, I could say that Santino didn't look twenty-seven.

But he didn't look, nor sound like a teenager either.

He's all man.

Jesus.

Sweet, and merciful, Lord—how am I supposed to get through the week?

Now, all I could think about was next weekend.

"I wish I could walk you to your door, but…" We were on my block already. "This ain't my whip—no one would recognize me with the tinted windows. But I don't want no one thinking you're leaving some strange guy's ride mad early in the mornin'. Understand?"

I nodded, my stomach achy.

He parked a few houses down from my own, a couple past his parents', which was smart.

If my dad saw me, he'd see me coming from the correct direction.

Unsure how to say goodbye, I mumbled "take care" before opening the car door.

Santino stopped me, reaching over to slam it shut. "Chill a second." He reached into his jacket for his wallet, the early rays of sun making his gun shine.

I averted my gaze, telling myself to remember to ask Kylie about it.

Last I heard, a lawyer being an officer of the court wasn't…that literal, in a protective stance. Or, he could carry it for protection of some sort? My dad has a rifle for hunting and stuff locked away.

"Take this." He handed me a business card. "Wait…" Santino produced a pen and scribbled another number down, adding it to the long list printed under his name.

"You're a stockbroker?" I asked.

"Yeah…I got my license while in law school." He faced the road, sighing. "As it turns out, I gotta real knack for it."

"Oh." I opened my purse to place it inside, securely.

"Make sure you hunt me down if you ever need me. That last number, the one I wrote down…that's my…personal number." He pushed his hair back and then scratched the stubble on his chin. "I shoulda shaved."

I smiled, thinking he was adorable right now. "Okay."

Santino leaned toward me, gently holding my chin, which made my breath catch. "Remember what I said about dudes? If there's no answer the first time you call, it's always best to blow up their phone—call as many times."

Having learned his advice untrue, I smiled wider, feeling my cheeks get hot. "You just want me to call you."

"Am I that transparent?" He winked, touching his nose to mine. "You should go." He licked his lips. And he was so close, if I would've done the same, our tongues would have touched. "You should really go before I kiss you," he whispered; I didn't move. "We might get caught." He took in our surroundings rapidly.

His last words had sobered me, and I agreed.

But…

I did close the distance, landing a short peck on his lips.

My bold action was to be a parting gesture, but he didn't let me get away—not that I wanted to escape his clutches, at all.

Santino's kiss was unlike mine. It was longer, involved a lot more tongue and passion, and then he pulled away.

The absence of his mouth left me stunned.

"Go." He pointed to the street, not facing me.

Santino was cold again, standoffish, confusing me like he did earlier. He was infuriating because I didn't know how he could shut himself down that fast…unless he really wants me to go, is afraid of getting caught?

Of course, unlike back at the hotel, I saw his point—reluctantly leaving the car. When I'd made it, with wobbly legs, to my side of the block, the screeching sound of tires made my head whip to the street. Santino had reversed the pretty vehicle, now parked a few houses before mine.

I tried not to stare, keeping my head down as I walked to my home, knowing he was still there. His timing was impeccable, too. As soon as I got my door open, I heard him driving past me.

I sighed, my back slamming the door shut with gusto.

"Margaret?" my father called.

"Yes, sir…I'm home." My voice was wrong, warbled and shaky, and I tried to shake that off.

My father appeared, leaving the kitchen. "Well, go get ready for school, child. It's late." He pointed to his watch. "I was about to call on the Cullens."

I gaped at him like a nervous fish.

Did I look any different?

Was there now a scarlet letter branded to my forehead?

"I'm sorry…um, sir." I managed to give him a smile. "We overslept—watched movies until late last night."

"Nothing untoward, I hope?"

"No…absolutely not," I said. "Mr. and Mrs. Cullen are very involved in everything that Kylie does." That wasn't a lie, although I don't think they'd care if Kylie watched something X-rated. "Her mom was there, watched with us." I remembered not to oversell it and shut up. "I'll lock up—you don't have to wait." I ran up the stairs, nearly tripping in my haste.

My uniforms were already set, hanging in my closet, and I changed my clothes crazy fast. I didn't even bother with stockings, no matter how chilly, and pulled my knee socks up before stepping into my shoes.

There was still color to my cheeks as I pushed a headband into place on my head.

After making sure I had everything for the day, I looked to my day planner, and I'd totally forgotten about my shift at the tanning salon.

As I ran down the steps, I almost bumped into my father.

He steadied me. "Relax…You have a few minutes before you catch the bus." Dad was in good spirits this morning, finding humor in my actions. "It certainly is nice that the Cullens have been letting you stay there."

"They know Mom's out of town." That wasn't even a decent excuse because that shouldn't matter. "And you work so much, and now I'm working, too. I'm working today…after school."

"Good." He patted my cheek, still proud I'm working, even if I'd acquired the job through Kylie. "I know the house seems empty without Mom and Mary-Joe. God forgive me for enjoying the quiet, though." He chuckled. "You're an exceptional child, Margaret. It's a relief not having to…truly worry; I know I can trust you."

Now, I thought he was testing me, waiting for me to confess.

"I do my best…" I didn't know what else to say. "Well, I try."

He kissed my hair. "Have a good day."

"You too, sir." I snatched my coat and booked it out the door.

I'd intended on making a mad dash to Third Avenue, but I saw Mr. Cullen picking up his newspaper. He wore a scowl, his hair was messy, and he was in pajamas.

I waved. "Good morning, Mr. Cullen."

He did a double take and then jerked his chin at me.

And that was definitely a judgmental gesture.

I bet he knows I slept with his son, thinks I'm this huge whore-bag now.

"Go to school, Maggie." His words made me jump, and I realized I'd just been standing there. "Santino's not here. No need to linger in the street, and don't start sneaking into my yard in the middle of night again. It's dangerous to be out that late, and he don't live hea'."

I thought I'd keel over and die, but I did the next best thing. Since he didn't think me weird enough, I ran toward the opposite avenue. I'd just about made it to the bus stop when a sleek and shiny car stopped in front of it.

Knowing it was Santino, overjoyed and surprised to see him, I just got in. "Drive!"

"Somebody chasin' you?" He looked behind me.

I shook my head. "No…but I saw your dad and mine. It was terrible. They know. I think my dad's suspicious, and yours…" I groaned, palming my face.

"Uh…I did tell my father," Santino whispered, pulling away from the curb. "We're pretty close. There's not much I don't tell him."

"Oh…" Having it confirmed was even worse. "He probably thinks I'm this…loose little girl now."

"No!" he shouted. "Hell no! Don't say that."

"He told me not to linger in the street, sneak into his yard late at night—'cause you don't live there," I explained. "I probably can't hang with Kylie now."

"That's bullshit," he laughed, zooming through a yellow light. I might make it to school with minutes to spare now. "I assure you…My father's concern—not wantin' you chillin' in the streets, sneakin' out late…It has more to do with your safety. And he knows, as sure he knows the sky is blue, that if I wanna spend time wit'chu I will…no matter what he said, or what he thought." He glanced at me.

My stomach tied in knots. "But he knows—"

"Sorry to burst your bubble, baby. But you told Kylie something that pertains to me, that includes me. I'm sure she'll let it slip to my mother—sooner or later." He shrugged.

My eyes widened. "I'm gonna tell her not to."

"Okay." He squeezed my thigh. "Yeah, that'll work." Before I could relax, he added, "Besides, thinking back, I think my mother wanted us to hook up—be friends. I'm not sure, nor do I care. Just…don't you start thinking too much of it. We did what we did…and they only know about us chillin' at Midnight Sun. Kylie knows to keep our stay at the hotel secret. I made it worth her time."

I nodded to agree. "That's good... And what about Damion and his girlfriend?"

His face fell for a second. "He won't say nothin'. We're brothers, which means even if he hates me—and he does right now—I still have his discretion. I dunno what your relationship is like with your sister. Well, you told me she's young. When she's older and you're older, youse'll be the best of friends and worst of enemies. But the love…that doesn't go nowhere."

I placed my hand on his. "I don't know what's goin' on with you guys, but I hope it settles soon." I pursed my lips, curious, and wanting to know more. "It wasn't my idea to make him jealous. Even so—" the whole thing is just ridiculous to me "—I didn't think Kylie's silly plan would work. I told you…I was upset he acted like he didn't know me, which was insulting?" I stared at his side.

"Maggie, whatever happened the night youse met, however way you felt—it doesn't matter, doesn't bother me. I mean, youse didn't even fool around." He chuckled, nervous and kinda dark?

I hummed.

After all, we discussed this at great length last night. Just talking, getting to know one another, and that was great. I tried my best to explain that night and what happened, how I'd been feeling, and I really struggled with it.

Because it was such a confusing time for me, the night hazy in my mind.

And every day since…

It's been topsy-turvy

Sometimes I'm at a loss, lost at sea without a life jacket—feeling like I'm drowning—and other instances leave me puzzled.

I keep asking myself if anything will make sense again, if things will settle down.

The worst part of all this is wanting to blame my parents—for my inexperience in life, for sheltering me, for not letting me grow and be as mature as my peers.

I can chalk up being socially awkward to not having any friends.

Or, maybe it's no one's fault? Maybe I would've had friends if I wasn't the way I was?

Either way, it's probably all me; being shy, timid, and mildly embarrassing is my personal curse.

And I really wanted to tell Santino all of that.

But no.

I doubt he'd understand.

He's the…epitome of cool, suave, and sexy, and I bet he's a lot smarter than me. Well, he's older and undoubtedly wiser. Santino went to college, law school, and he's had many life experiences, while there's also a hard edge to him, making him totally freaking badass.

The man was lethal.

I'd bet better women than me have swooned, dropped like flies, or have thrown panties at him. I don't know; however, I do know that I find his sexual prowess intriguing, appealing, and…hot.

I'm not sure if that's an attribute other people find alluring.

Hey, it could just make me more of a freakazoid.

Thinking of our differences does pose a huge question…

What's a successful Adonis, beefcake, macho-man of a dude doing hanging out with a misfit screwball like myself?

Seriously…I'm not the least bit interesting, or even funny, to balance the fact that I'm not drop-dead-gorgeous.

Plus, if this past month of constant jumbled thoughts has taught me anything, it's that I know absolutely nothing.

And I'm in high school.

What the hell is he doing still hanging around me?

"We're human, we have feelings…" He stopped at a red light and turned to me, but I'd been lost in my own thoughts; forgot what he was talking about. "What's important to me is knowing that what we did, what we have now…that your actions are genuine." He furrowed his brow, taking off when the light turned green.

"Oh." I remembered now. "I told you. I only thought…I liked him, but I didn't know him." I didn't know how much I should admit, regarding my feelings for Santino.

Even though we're polar opposites—he's perfection and I'm the embodiment of imperfection—I couldn't help the way I felt, bewilderment included. Knowing how special the past two days have been to me, and that being with Santino had absolutely nothing to do with his brother, it could all be one-sided. He's casual and I'm…

I don't even know what I am, but I had to say something. "Santino, being with you has been—"

"We don't gotta talk about it," he spoke over me and touched his knuckle to my lips.

"Right." I looked to the window and watched the streets whizz by.

"By the way, you look absolutely scandalous in your fuckin' uniform." He had a naughty glint in his eyes; it made the butterflies start up. "You still a Girl Scout?"

I shook my head. "I'm supposed to volunteer this year 'cause I'm too old. Wait, how'd you know I was…?" I stared at his profile.

He placed his hand on his chest. "You sold my mother a shitload of Thin Mints last year…and I was…just gonna suggest you get a better fitting outfit. 'Cause the one you wore last year was kinda small."

"No, it wasn't," I disagreed.

"Do you still have it?" he asked.

I nodded. "I think so…My sister grew a few inches over the summer. I think my mom's gonna tailor it for her."

"Oh." He grimaced, parking in front of the bus stop by my school. "There's a few patches you've yet to earn, though…if I'm to be your professor of things." He smirked at me.

I sighed, loving the filthy innuendo that came out of his mouth. But then I blinked, realization dawning on me. I'd been visibly swooning, and Santino talked a lot of crap while trying to be flirty and dirty. He wasn't really lying, but… "It's too bad you're all talk and no action, Santino… That would have been really cool, getting a penis patch for…blowing you." This time, he never reached for me and let me leave the car.

I felt amazing, kept my head up high, refusing to look back at him—

"Hey, get back here!" he shouted, trying to leave his car but getting caught in the seatbelt.

"I'll call you!" I hollered back.