Melissa - Page 53

You have to find Darren. Now that the skeleton is busily chasing Andre into the woods, nothing else matters. You slam your way through the front door and scan the entryway. The room is hot and stuffy, full of heated air and cloudy with steam. Some of the paint near the basement stairs has started to peel and bubble. Thinking to grab a knife, you dart into the kitchen. The largest knife from the butcher block is already missing. You grab a short but incredibly sharp paring knife from the block and run to the back deck.

Darren is there, leaning on the wooden railing and gazing out into the forest. "Darren!" You scream, running to him and wrapping him in a tight hug. "I'm so glad your alive."

Darren looks down at you with his big brown eyes and smiles. "We need to get out of here," he states as flatly as if he were describing the sunny weather. Your hug lingers a split second past the socially acceptable limit and you back away sheepishly. Darren's gaze returns to the lake and the forest below.

"Where should we go?" You ask, wanting nothing more than to hold his hand an escape into the wilderness to live a life of bliss by his side. You take another step closer to his side, breathing in the deep aroma of his manliness.

"As far from here as we can. If we can make it around the lake, that should buy us enough time to wait thing out or to go down the backside of the mountain." Darren uses the large butcher knife from the kitchen block to point as he speaks. His arms flex and ripple with movement. Your eyes are so drawn to the spectacle of Darren's physique that you barely comprehend his words.

"I'd go down the backside of your mountain..." you catch yourself muttering. Darren turns and gives you a quizzical look. Thankfully, Darren seems to not have heard.

"Let's go," the dreamy quarterback commands. His voice is so used to leadership and authority that hesitation never feels like a possibility.

Darren leaps from the wooden railing to the ground below, deftly falling ten feet to land in a graceful roll. "How do I get down?" You shout, panicking at the thought of being left behind by your future husband.

Darren lifts his arms up and tells you to jump. For a moment, your heart stops. You've envisioned leaping into Darren's outstretched arms hundreds, if not thousands, of times. You brush a lock of brown hair from your face and ease yourself over the railing. Darren's strong fingers dance from your ankles to your thighs as he lowers you to the ground. You land with a gentle thud, purposely sliding one foot between his legs as you come down.

Without a word, your tall savior pulls you by the hand toward the lake. This is it, you can't help but fantasize. We escape into the woods and build a shelter, surviving on hunting and cooking wild animals. We live in the trees without a worry in the world, having dozens of children......

You reach the lake without any sign of the skeletal beast that wants to kill you. In one quick motion, Darren pulls his shirt off to reveal a set of abs worthy of a magazine cover. Without thinking, you grab the bottom of your shirt and begin sliding it off your body. Darren's hand shoots out to stop you before you inadvertently strip. "You can swim in your shirt," he jests, tying his own garment around his waist.

You dive into the icy water and begin paddling after Darren. After a long and strenuous swim, you reach the other shore where Darren is waiting, ringing out his soaked shirt. "We need to find a place to camp," he says, not even giving your soaked body a second glance. The water is frigid, colder than anything you've ever swam in, and your wet shirt does little to conceal your perky figure. Notice me! you practically scream in your head.

With a sigh of frustration, you wrap your arms around yourself and trudge through the woods after Darren.

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