In the rain, the light tapping of rocks hit my window and brought me out of deep slumber. I rubbed my tired eyes as the tapping proceeded. I slapped my feet against the floor and glanced at my clock before my hips swayed to the window. I would've been fine if it had been a school day, but it was twelve-thirty on a Saturday and the morning of the Halloween dance. I was a raging bull.

   I yanked open the crusted casement as the wind blew cold rain into my room, and another rock flew from the ground and hit me in the temple, but I caught my balance and looked below.

"Aaron, it's just after midnight. When did you leave the room?"

"I brought you tacos?" he held up a bag of locos tacos and smiled.

"At twelve-thirty in the morning?" I growled.

"Can you just let me up?" He groaned. The streetlights made his eyes glow under the soggy moonlight.

    I grunted, slamming the window shut. "Five minutes," I grumbled as I walked down the staircase. The door creaked open, and an exhausted Aaron in pajama pants and a bare chest stood in my doorway as rain soaked his blonde, wavy locks of hair. His sculpted abs distracted me, and I blinked a few times to ensure it was real.

   Yep, Aaron was half-naked and standing at my door. "I'm peachy, Aaron. Why are you not wearing a shirt?" He chewed on his chapped lips, readjusted his hand with the doorframe, and his six-pack abs peered back at me.

"Why are you in a bra and shorts?"

"You tell me," I growled back.

"Why are you so grouchy," he grumbled. His blue eyes were squinting.

"Let's see." I finally spoke after a long pause. "You leave the house half-naked, and wake me up by throwing rocks at my window in the middle of the night over tacos?" I took a long break, watching him exhale.

"Emily, I, uh—" Aaron huffed, suddenly glancing into my eyes. He contemplated his following words, but I could probably already guess the following sentence.

"I love you, Emily Hart," he sucked in air and held his breath. His cheeks puffed as he waited for me to make a noise, but I was speechless.

"I couldn't sleep, and  I couldn't stop thinking of you, so I snuck out and drove a while to collect my thoughts, and—" He pointed to his Corvette in my driveway and held up the bag of tacos again.

"Aaron, do you want to come in," Were they following words that left my lips; however, I meant something different, such as I love you. Those words were the next best thing that I could have let out.

   I moved from the doorway as he wandered in. He could have frozen out there. However, that was the least of my problems. I had a crush, guiding him back into my house at midnight.

✽✽✽

"Ta-da," He announced, swiping his hand in the air, showing off his room covered in comic books and action figures. "Do you like my room?"

I snorted. "You are a nerd."

"Call me what you want, but I prefer superhero extraordinaire."
  
Aaron and I were at his father's mansion, rained in for the night after dinner, and a movie Marathon in the living room under some sheets. It was morning, but we both hated driving in the rain, so this was the best we could do.

In his bedroom, his buttery lips locked against mine as our sweat-filled clothing created friction, and the next thing I knew, we were rolling around on his king-size mattress. One second, Aaron had a shirt covering his sticky chest, and I counted his six-pack abs multiple times until I eased my eager mind. He sat on my hips, leaning in, as his lips pressed against mine again, and I pulled him against me, feeling his hot body topple against mine.

Aaron's hands trickled down to my laced panties as he ripped them apart. Then,  Aaron's bedroom door suddenly crept open, and his Juan Pablo Di Pace look-alike DILF stepdad and sibling stared at me, cuddled up next to Aaron in his bunched sheets. His youngest brother, Jack, grinned as Aaron stared blank-faced as he slipped off of me.

"Hi, Mr. Chanson," I put on my best charming smile and waved awkwardly.

"Dad, uh, Emily—" Aaron gestured to me, but his dad bared no expression.

"Aaron!" He finally scolded. "Boxers on, and downstairs by ten," he snapped at Aaron. My eyes flicked to Aaron's alarm clock next to his bedside. It was nearly 9:50 am.

"Yes, Dad." He groaned, slipping out from under the covers as his young brothers shielded their eyes.

"I think I'm going to be sick," one of them spat on the floor and raced off.

"No more touching, I mean it," his father snapped again. Aaron moaned, walking to his dresser to grab a fresh pair of boxers and slipped them over his muscular thighs.

"You too, Emily. No more of this sex bullshit. You have my kids talking about the two of you having babies. I don't like it."

"Yes, sir," I muttered. Then I slipped out from under the covers, picking up my pants from the ground in one solid swoop, as Mr. Chanson walked away.

"Do you think your dad is mad?" I asked Aaron. Aaron shrugged, throwing on a pair of basketball shorts.

"He's been angrier," he stated. So, I haven't noticed. "Look, if it means anything to you, he cares about you and me and doesn't want to see anyone hurt like my mother. He's not a bad guy."

"He's sort of an ass," I mumbled, slipping on my shorts.

"How would you feel if you found your kid having sex at sixteen? That's the same age he had me."

Great. He's fathering me again.

"Aaron, I—" he stopped me, his blue eyes pleading into my brown eyes. "Let me just throw on my shirt so we can head downstairs," I said.

He nodded in agreement. "You do that," He said.