Love In Full Bloom

Chapter Fourteen

MARIAM'S POV

Miguel's smile caught me off guard, and I felt a flutter in my chest. I wanted to shower his face with kisses. But before I could process my thoughts, he asked, "Hey, are you alright?" His concerned expression made me snap out of my reverie.

I looked at him blankly, and he repeated, "I said, are you alright? You look flushed. Are you sick?" He stood up and reached out to check my temperature, his hand brushing against my forehead. I jerked back, surprised by the sudden touch, yet secretly wanting him to linger.

"I'm okay, really," I said, clutching my stomach slightly. "I think it's just my ulcer acting up since I didn't eat lunch." I was shocked by how easily the lie rolled off my tongue.

"Guys, I'm going. See you on Friday," Caldora said, heading for the door. I watched her, wondering if she was really sick or just making excuses. A sudden thought crossed my mind: was she pregnant? My gaze lingered on her, searching for any signs.

Andy's voice broke my reverie: "I'll call you when I get home." I turned to see who he was talking to, and my eyes met Miguel's as he responded with a nod. His gaze shifted to mine, and he said softly, "See you on Friday, Mariam." I nodded, a small smile on my face.

I turned to Miguel, and our eyes met unexpectedly. I quickly looked away, feeling a flutter in my chest. "I think I should get going," I said, hastily packing my books into my bag.

As I recalled my reaction to Miguel's concern, I couldn't help but think about my conversation with Seyram. Hadn't I just told her that I wasn't attracted to him because of his jerk behavior? Why, then, was I drawn to Miguel's kindness and gentle smile? The contradiction puzzled me.

"Let me drop you off," Miguel said, and I turned to see who he was talking to. But we were alone in the lecture hall. When did everyone leave? I wondered.

I looked at Miguel, and he seemed to be searching for something in my expression. "Were you talking to me?" I asked, my eyebrows shooting up in surprise.

"No, I'm talking to myself. Did you see anyone else here apart from the two of us?" he replied, his face twisted in amusement, as if I was missing something obvious.

"Whatever, and no thank you. I can go home by myself," I said, picking up my bag and slinging it over my shoulder. I looked at him, wondering if he even had a car. I realized how little I knew about him.

Miguel gazed at me before picking up his backpack with one hand and grasping mine with the other. Surprised, I tried to pull my hand away, but he tightened his grip.

"You're going with me whether you like it or not," he said, pulling me out of the hall. I mockingly asked, "Why are you so bossy? Haven't you taken a no for an answer before?"

"Yeah, you're right, and you won't be the one to break that record," Miguel said, glancing at me briefly. "I'm just going with you because I want to know if you really have a car and what type," I said, trying to downplay his confidence.

He smirked, shaking his head, and dragged me to the parking lot behind the department building. The lot had only three cars and a motorcycle. I wondered which car was his, given their expensive looks.

The cars were familiar to me, an ash-colored Toyota Yaris, a white Range Rover, and a black Land Cruiser. The motorcycle made me anxious; I didn't know much about bikes and had an inexplicable fear of them. Maybe I had a past-life trauma?

That's really absurd, but it's the truth.

Miguel stopped by the bike, retrieved the keys, and I stared at him in disbelief. 'A bike? You can't be serious,' I thought. I stepped back quickly, creating distance between us.

Miguel's expression shifted from questioning to concern. "What happened?" he asked, approaching me. "I'm not sitting on that thing," I said, my voice shaking a little.

He gently held my face, his voice soft and calm. "Hey, look at me. Now breathe." I met his captivating gaze and took a deep breath, realizing I'd been holding it.

"You're afraid of motorbikes?" Miguel asked softly, his warm breath caressing my skin. I nodded, my eyes fixed on the bike. "Yeah, I'm really afraid to ride or sit on one. Even when someone passes me on the road or I'm near one, I get nervous."

Miguel's gaze locked onto mine as he gently caressed my cheek, his fingertips sending shivers down my spine. I breathed in his subtle cologne, a mix of cedarwood and spice. "It's okay. Trust me, I won't hurt you. This will be the best experience of your life." His words were soothing, and I felt myself getting lost in his calm, brown eyes.

As he whispered, "Come here," his voice vibrated through his chest, and I felt his heartbeat steady and strong. He drew me into a hug, and I rested my head on his chest, enveloped by his warmth. The sound of his heartbeat was reassuring, and I felt a sense of comfort and security.

"I thought you don't like me," I said, looking up at him. Miguel's expression softened as he pulled back slightly. "Why would you think that?"

"I mean, today's our first interaction, and you've been nothing but annoying," I replied, trying to create distance, but he held me back by the waist. His smile deepened, and I gave him a questioning look.

"I was just angry with you today," he said casually.

"For sitting in your spot?" I asked, seeking clarification.

"No," he said.

Then he added "forget about it let's go" and dragged me toward the bike. When we were a foot away, I stopped, frozen. Miguel's concerned gaze met mine. "Do you trust me?" he asked, his eyes expectant.

I hesitated, looking at the bike and then at Miguel. "Miguel, I really can't sit on that. I'll just take a bus home."

He stepped closer, his voice gentle but firm. "Mariam, you have to overcome your fears. You never know when a situation might arise where a bike is the only option. You can't just ignore it because of your fear."

I wondered if he was a therapist, given his words of wisdom. Maybe I should trust him and try this. I nodded skeptically as he moved back to the bike and sat down, handing me his bag to hold.

I nervously approached the bike, gripping the bag straps tightly. "Come on," he said, looking at me.

Taking a deep breath, I reminded myself that getting a bus this late could be overwhelming. I climbed onto the bike, sitting behind him, and awkwardly placed my legs on either side. My heart was racing like it wanted to escape my chest.

Miguel looked back at me, concern etched on his face. "Are you okay?" I nodded, unsure if my voice would tremble if I spoke.

"Okay, I'm about to start," he said, putting on his helmet. I nodded again, my anxiety spiking.

As he started the engine, my heart skipped a thousand beats. When the bike moved backward, I wrapped my arms tightly around him and let out a loud scream, mortified that the whole campus might hear me. This was definitely an embarrassing moment.