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voice, “I know she didn’t mean to do that.” 
    Hardy simply stared at Miracle.  He knew she thought Cheyenne didn’t purposely embarrass her that way; there was no way she could’ve known about the scar.  But Cheyenne had tried to force Miracle into doing something she didn’t want to do.  So, whether her intentions were good or not, the fact that her inconsiderate nature had caused Miracle such obvious humiliation was enough to make Hardy see red.  He wasn’t as kind and forgiving as Miracle.  He doubted anyone on the planet was.
    “She still ruined your afternoon and I’m really sorry about that.”
    Miracle smiled her sad, sweet smile, reaching out to lay her hand on top of Hardy’s.  Hardy had to make himself not turn his hand over to lace his fingers through hers. 
    “Don’t be,” she advised kindly.  Her eyes shone with something he’d never seen in another person, something otherworldly, as if she’d seen things that most others hadn’t.  Hardy could only guess at what she’d had to suffer in order to get a look like that, a world view like that.  Miracle made his heart hurt.  But she also made it fly.
    “Now,” Miracle said, closing her eyes and leaning her head back against the headrest.  “Let’s get some music going and some wind in our hair!”
    Hardy smiled, feeling more energized by her presence than he had any right to feel.  For a moment, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to take his eyes off her long enough to drive.  She had tilted her head back just enough that the sun fell full on her face.  Her complexion was like rich cream, her lips pouty, and her nose straight.  It even bathed the gentle curve of her throat.  She was mesmerizing.
    Finally, when she turned her head toward him and cracked an eyelid, he looked down to turn on the radio and then steer the car out of the parking lot.
    “Where am I going?” he asked, hating to disturb her.
    “Do you know where Iron Street is?”
    Hardy nodded and listened as Miracle told him how to get to her house.  What Hardy knew of Iron Street was that it was fairly low income.  Other than that, he knew very little, as he’d never been there.  But still, he knew where it was.
    Miracle resumed her position and Hardy pulled onto the road.  He sneaked a glance in her direction every couple of minutes, unable to help himself.  She looked perfectly at peace.  He hoped she could just forget about today.  Just not about him.
    Miracle opened her eyes when he began making the series of short turns that would bring them to her house.  Neither of them said anything.  It wasn’t until he’d pulled to a stop outside a tiny white house and put the car into park that she even looked in his direction.
    “Thank you so much for bringing me home.”
    “My pleasure,” Hardy said simply, smiling and hoping there would be no mention of Cheyenne or her antics.
    Miracle watched him for several seconds—seconds during which he concluded he’d never wanted to kiss someone more—before she nodded once and reached for the door handle.
    “Miracle,” Hardy said, stopping her.  She turned back to him, an expectant look on her face.  “Are you coming to the game tonight?”
    She made a face that gave him his answer before she even opened her mouth.  She wrinkled her nose and bit her lip as if hesitant to tell him no, but planning on it nonetheless.  He’d known before he asked what her answer would be.  But he had to ask.
    “I don’t think so.”
    “It’s just…I thought…it’s just that I’d really love for you to come.” 
    Hardy was silently telling himself to shut up, not to pressure her.  But something inside him wanted to see her in the stands so badly, wanted to know she was there so much that he couldn’t stop himself.
    “I don’t really know many people yet and after today…”
    “Please don’t let that upset you,” Hardy said, closing his eyes on the plea. 
    Miracle shrugged.  “I just don’t know if