Page 32 of My Rose

“You don’t need to talk about it if you don’t want to,” he whispered, sending shivers down my back and thighs. Could I even picture August being this gentle with me? Did he ever ask about the fire or let me talk about any of it? The answer to both of those things, after desperately scanning my memories, was no. He’d never taken the time to get to know me, and if he had, he’d stop calling me by all the stupid nicknames he could come up with.

“Rose, are you okay?” Briggs’ thumb rubbed my fingers under my shirt. I nodded, then because I’d forgotten about his hands and how he got injured in trying to protect me, I lunged for his other hand and lifted it to inspect it.

He laughed, and I felt the vibrations through my shoulder. “You did good. No infection.” The stitches had been removed and his skin was healing, but it was going to be a while before a white scar would settle in its place. That same hand brushed my hair back over my other shoulder just as a roll of thunder erupted above.

“I still have nightmares about the fire,” I blurted. His hand stilled in my hair. “I was trapped in it. My parents told me to run, to get out. And I hid in the stupid grandfather clock. That’s where…that’s where the paramedics and firemen found me. But getting to the clock…I ran through fire to get to it and burned my side.”

Briggs kissed the top of my shoulder. “You ran through fire?” I nodded, the thought almost making me want to laugh. But the thought of my parents, of how I lived and they didn’t, ended that feeling as quickly as it came. “You’re a fighter, you know. It’s oneof the things I like about you.” His fingers caressed the scar. It was possibly the first time I wasn’t self-conscious of the injury that I’d never fully heal from. He made it seem beautiful. Like it was a badge I should wear with pride.

I’m a fighter.

But I couldn’t stop my thoughts from escaping my mouth. Like usual. “You like me?”Fuck, I sound like I’m in high school.Having no experience with men was becoming all too evident.

His chuckle confirmed that. “Of course. Why else would I be touching you like this? Showing you exactly the answer to your first question.” The question of me not understanding what I did to him. The warmth of his hand left my torso as he slid out from under my shirt and tucked his knuckles under my chin. His green eyes hovered on my lips. “I’ve been thinking about kissing you again ever since that night, you know.”

“You…have?” I swallowed the dryness in my throat. It did nothing to help.

Briggs nodded, his tongue wetting his lips. “I have.” His thumb stroked my jawline and I let my head fall into his hand, my eyes fluttering closed at his touch.

“Are you going to just stare at my lips, or are you going to kiss me again?” I whispered.

“Gazing is not enough.” Briggs placed the pad of his thumb on my bottom lip, his pupils growing until there was little emerald left that wasn’t consumed by darkness. “What are you doing to me, Rose?” His question sounded like a plea, and then his lips were on mine, but this time, it was sweet. Soft, like he was trying to make the momentlast as long as he possibly could. An intimacy I’d never witnessed first-hand, and it made me jolt back an inch from his face right as his tongue tried to slide into my mouth.

“Did I hurt you?” He inspected my face like he did in the woods. Neither of those times had he been the cause of my shock. Because that’s what it was. I was shocked that he could be this way with me.

“No. You’ve never hurt me. Not like that, at least.”

His forehead creased. “I won’t ever hurt you again, Rose. I promise. Do I need to get back down on my knees?” He shifted and started to lift me from his lap.

“No!” I slapped his hands away and clasped my hands tightly behind his neck. “You don’t need to do that again.”

He laughed, warming me all over again from the inside. “What if I want to?”

That sentence, that singular remark, circled my brain as he drove me home. I didn’t miss the similarities between when I begged him to kiss me the first time and when he said he’d get on his knees again for me.What if I want to?

His hands hadn’t left my body since we sat together by the water. On the way back to the car, he held my hand, and now that we were in the car, his hand was back on my thigh. I sighed and pulled my gaze from the window, where the rain that wasn’t quite snow was beginning to bead and roll down faster. “So what are we doing, Briggs?”

“Well, I’m taking you home, and then I’ll drive back to my house. You’ll probably go take a shower—hmm, no, you probably prefer baths during storms, and I’ll shower in oranges like I usuallydo—”

“Briggs, really?” I rolled my eyes at his response and squeezed his hand that wrapped around my thigh as he laughed. It wasn’t the injured one, and I had to bite my tongue from telling him to use his other hand to drive. Not that he’d listen. He seemed way too content to be holding onto some part of me still.

“Okay. How about this version? I’ll drop you off, and then tomorrow, I’m picking you back up at six.”

“Where are we going?”

I felt the heat of his eyes moving from my legs up to my lips through the corner of his eye. “I’ll surprise you.”

I didn’t like surprises. But something told me I’d love whatever he decided to do. “Formal, or…”

“Wear that red dress from the party.” His response came so fast that my lips popped open. Just knowing he paid that much attention to me, that he remembered my clothing—I had to stop my thighs from clenching together at the thought. I’d gone my entire life without sex, and now, all I could do was picture him ripping off that red dress he ordered I wear.

“Okay,” I finally breathed out.

My finger covered the sliver of a smile on my lips, and he groaned. The car pulled to the side of the road and stopped, and his fingers were under my chin in seconds. His thumb slid along my bottom lip, edging it down.

But his lips went flat—he wasn’t satisfied. Not until he claimed my mouth with his again, then took my bottom lip between his teeth. He pulled, his teeth raking hard and slow until my lip snapped back. My mouth parted in shock, but he just smirked back at me. “That’s better. I told you before, and I guess I didn’t drive it home. Your. Teeth. Are. Perfect. Don’t you dare try to hide them from me again.”

I turned molten, liquid lava coursing through my veins in the most delicious way as his mouth came to mine again, repeating the same process of biting my lip and snapping it back. “Understood?” he asked as he pulled back and eased the car back onto the road.

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