Use to be lying on my bed in my imagination and now she is on my bed whenever I want her there.

Huh. I guess stranger things could happen. Or miracles can happen. I’m not sure where this situation fits quite yet.

My attention shoots to my door when I hear running down the hallway and suddenly seeing a drenched Spencer at my doorway.

She practically ran over to me mouthing ‘thank god’ and sits on her knees beside me. She pulls me up to face level with her. Grabs one of my hands and looks to my lips.

She brings my hands down her should, over her breasts and leaves it to rest on her hip while her other hand traces over the features of my face, over my furrowed brow, smoothing out the creases, down my cheek over my lips, down my chin and back to my lips.

Her face moves mere millimetres away from mine and I gasp in slightly. The hand that was on mine now moves up my arm and brings it around the back of her neck. She pulls me forward and gently attacks my mouth.

This is one of the most sensual kissed we have shared, much like the first one.

It’s slow, gentle. It just like her. It’s perfect. It deepens when her tongue comes out to touch mine and I accept it fully. I always whimper when she kisses me, I just can’t help it. Both my hands are on her hips and I can’t help but squeeze them a bit as I feel her tug on my neck more. A few moans escape our lips but before I know it, a feel wetness down my face and I only just realised she came in from the pouring rain.

I part with her and look at her strangely; all she had to do was phone me or something. She shouldn’t risk pneumonia for me. Okay I’m exaggerating but that’s not the point.

Suddenly she gets this look, this scared, shocked look as she pulls me to her, hanging her head on my shoulder and crying, repeating ‘I’m sorry, I’m so sorry’ over and over again.

I’m still a bit puzzled, all it was, was a stupid little argument. She should know it would take a hell of a lot more than this to keep me away. “Spence, what’s wrong baby?”

She gave me a look as if asking me why the hell I would even ask that before she picked up the remote and switch the T.V on, finding the news channel.

‘An accident that seemed to leave three teenagers in critical condition was reported only thirty minutes ago. It seems the car just pulled out of nowhere and hit the girls on the driver’s side of the vehicle…’

Suddenly they shown a picture of the dark blue Porsche. My dark blue Porsche and my heart sank.

‘None of them have been identified yet…’

And it changed to a clip of the driver being taking into an ambulance by a stretcher. The passenger stood outside having what seemed to be their leg treated but it wasn’t a clear picture because of the smoke.

My voice got caught inside my throat and all that came out was a squeak. I couldn’t move, I couldn’t even think. All I could do was hope to god that it wasn’t Kyla driving. Why the fuck did I let her take my car on a night like this? How fucking stupid could I be?

And then when they shown that the person being treated was Sam, I think I just about died.

All I could manage was a whispered and chocked ‘Kyla’ before I rushed out of the house, Spencer telling me that she borrowed her brother’s car. How did hell did I think I was going to get to the hospital? What fucking planet am I on?

Fuck it, I need to get to the hospital. Now.