Love Is A Crime

I Get Ambushed In My Car

Dylan Fowler POV

I put my car in park and grab my purse. Thanks to my lack of coordination, I accidentally whack it on the steering wheel, spilling the contents of it onto my lap. Great, just what I needed. I methodically pick up each item and put it back in my purse neatly. I double, then triple check to make sure everything is in order. Satisfied, I grab my sunglasses from the passenger seat; it's a good thing I did because moments later, a boy, who I've never seen before, opens the door and heaves himself onto the very spot they were resting.

"Drive, just drive!" He holders. I sit there in shock-my mind is blank, I have no clue what just happened.

"For God's sake, drive woman!" My body is moving on its own. Before I know it, my foots on the gas and the car's moving.

"Buckle up." I say. He reaches behind him almost immediately and grabs the buckle. I have to admit, I'm a little shocked. He doesn't seem like the kind of guy to do what he's told, especially by a total stranger.

The boy visibly relaxes once we've taken off; he slouches down in his seat. I still don't know what to say, so I observe him instead. This proves easier said than done considering I'm driving and all, but I manage.

He has light brown eyes, so light they almost look orange, except for a ring of black along the edge of his iris. They remind me of a cat's eye, bright and alert.

His hair is a dark brown, maybe black, which is a stark contrast against his pale skin. The sides are shorter while the top is taller and spiked up, although much of its fallen down across his forehead. He even has a perfect jawline, carved by God himself. His adams apple bobs every time he swallows. This boy is hot.

After a while, mystery boy speaks. "So...What's your name?"

I'm not sure if I should be telling my name to him, you know, stranger danger and everything, but I do anyways. To hell with all those safety lessons in elementary school.

"Dylan. Dylan Fowler. What's yours?"

"No way." He chuckles, "Mine too. Dylan Gray."

"Is your favorite color grey?" I smile, trying not to laugh at my own joke.

"Very original." He replies sarcastically. I can't think of anything to keep the conversation going, so I keep quiet. I tap my thumb on the steering wheel five times and pause, then four times and pause, then three, then two. I repeat the same thing with my other hand.

Dylan hasn't said anything in a while, so I glance over at him, trying to be stealthy about it. When I look over, he's staring at me.

"Are you okay?" I ask him.

"Just peachy." He replies smoothly, giving me a smirk. Now it's as if my mind's caught up with the rest of me. I suddenly want to know why Dylan randomly got in my car.

"So, Dylan," I begin, "what made you decide to ambush me in my car on this fine afternoon?"

I barely pay attention to what he's telling me; I'm too mesmerized by how amazingly hot he is. The only thing I hear is the word 'cop'.

"May I ask what you did to catch the attention of a cop?"

He gives me another smirk and says, "It's a secret," with a wink.

I make a frustrated sound and focus on the road. For the rest of the ride, the only conversation is Dylan telling me where to turn. When he leaves he says, "Thanks for the ride, Fowler."

Just before he slams the door, I say, "No problem, Gray."

Once Dylan's back is just a tiny grey dot, I twist the steering wheel and head for home. One look at the clock tells me I completely missed my appointment. Normally, I'd be hysterical and freaking out, but right now I don't even care. All I can think about is stupid Dylan Gray.