Page 12 of Burn for Me

The flicks of ash in her eyes from this proximity make me wonder if they’re from bodies that she's burned in her past. If only I knew more, this would be so much easier.I wouldn’t be focused on how her fingers flex into my chest, bunching my dog tags beneath the palms I know are soft. If I could figure out what makes her bad, I could stop stepping closer and…

“I’m surprised,” she murmurs, and I quickly flatten my foot against the floor where it had risen. She knows my routine as well as I know hers, so there’s no way this is shocking.

“I was almost convinced you didn't have a heart, but I feel something thumping in there.”

And there it is.The same insufferable, bratty attitude returns tenfold, and I refrain from raising my voice in response. I should be grateful she broke my trance, but at the same time, I can't understand why she has so many walls built around her. When one starts to crumble, she has to put another in its place.

My hand tenses around hers, but I don't push her away like my body is begging me to do.

“You're not making this easy,” I mumble as I look over her head at Sharkie, who is prying Caspian's phone out of his hands. A slow melody starts to play, and I’m half-convinced this is Caspian's way of punishing me for the years he’s lost trying to correct my thoughts.

“It's a masquerade ball. Stop looking like you're in bloody pain, and just dance.” Caspian waves his hand without looking in my direction, too focused on how many steps Sharkie takes awayfrom him. I wouldn't be surprised if he counted them so he could calculate how many it’d take him to get to her.

Taking a deep breath through my nose, I guide Jasmine’s hands to wrap around the back of my neck. Even though I can’t control much right now, I can at least dictate where and when she touches me. It may be a small sense of power and not nearly enough to calm my nerves, but it helps.

I huff as her nails graze the collar of my shirt. This situation is ridiculous—she can’t even encircle her arms completely around me without straining to stay upright. Yet, it'sperfect. I let my hands drop to her waist, trying to ignore how good it feels to know I could move her however I wanted if I chose to.

Lost in my thoughts, I overlook Jasmine’s misstep, and my foot lands on her toe.

“Ouch!” She yelps, and I roll my eyes.

“Well, if you’dfollowinstead of trying tolead, that wouldn’t happen,” I reply.

She scoffs and looks down at our feet, attempting to match my steps.

“See, I told you this was stupid, and I should just…” Her words trail off as she looks around, realizing no one is there but me. I raise an eyebrow when her gaze finally meets mine. Did she think they'd stay? Apparently, she didn’t get the memo; this is a bonding experience. Her eyes drop again, fueling my irritation.

“I gave you an answer, but now it's your turn.”

I’m trying to ease the tension by talking. If she keeps to her usual flirting or bratty behavior, I should be able to handle this. Her sway finds a rhythm, so my hands drop to her hips, hoping to redirect her focus. Instead, she turns to look at the wall.

“I can't dance in those wonky things.” She finally replies with a quiet huff.

“Looks like you can't dance without them either.” I nearly grin, but she doesn’t give me the satisfaction of letting her see it foronce. Typically, she studies me like I’m a personal file, but now it seems the chip in the wall, where Moe threw Braxton into it not long ago, is more interesting.

“Look at me.” My tone drops to the demand I always need to use with her. If I don’t, she takes the opportunity to push her luck. I want to say it’s because I want her to respect me as her lieutenant, but the truth is, I do it because it gets her attention—she listens, and in those moments, she looks like the girl I found on the beach: innocent, with all her attention focused on me.

As expected her head snaps in my direction, and I get a better view of every feature I never allow myself to enjoy for longer than necessary. That gorgeous red hue is back, lighter than before, but it taints high on her cheekbones and across her nose.

“Tell me something.” She murmurs, her eyes softening, looking more golden than brown. “Nothing too personal, though.”

“Are you scared you might like me if you see me as a human?” I grin, and a smile spreads across her plush pink lips. It almost sounds like she’s holding back a laugh.I wish she had let it out.

“I know you're human. That's not it. I just…” Her words trail off as her gaze wanders across my face, and I wish I knew what she was thinking.

“My favorite color is black. Is that too personal?” I shrug, avoiding the deeper details of it being my middle name. Her fingertips graze my hairline, sending a chill down my spine.

“That's perfect,” she nearly whispers. Out of instinct, I lean closer to hear her better, and she swallows thickly before speaking again.

“Mine is red.”

“That seems fitting for a little devil.”

“That’s just rude.” she gasps in false shock.

“It’s a pet name.”

“You could have called me something sweet, like ‘Angel,’” she teases.

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