Page 32 of Burn for Me

The clanking of those stupid heels against the floor pulls my thoughts, and I fight to relax my body. It’s nearly impossible, though; my thighs have clamped shut, refusing to budge.

Clearing my throat, I raise my champagne as Lacy hands Sam a short glass of whisky.

“Stop lying. We had agreattime last night.” I draw, and Lacy freezes. My jealousymayhave been misplaced initially, but we don't have to talk about that, especially since she's still looking at Sam with eyes way too hooded for my liking.

“How could I forget, Darlin’?” He plays along with a ghost of a smirk at the corner of his mouth instead of giving me the real thing and mimics my motion.

“If that’ll be all—” Lacy starts, but Sam waves his hand dismissively, never tearing his gaze from mine.

“By the way…” His brows pull inward while digging into his pocket, but I can't focus on the motion–too entertained by Lacy's bunched shoulders. I cover my mouth with my glass, hoping tohide my amusement, but he extends his hand, catching me off guard. I'm at a loss for words, choking on my champagne. A gorgeous carbonado tear-shaped diamond sits in the middle of a steel band. I refuse to admit how many times I googled different wedding rings in the past, knowing that I possibly would never have the chance to see a man get down on one knee.

Ialwayscame back to the exact one or others that are similar.

With a low huff of air from my silence, Sam sets down his drink and pulls my hand into his.

“It’s your favorite color,” I murmur. I'm sure the shade resembles nothing to him, and it was just the best thing Tide could find on short notice. That thought is eased away when he lifts his hand from mine so I can see the gorgeous matte black band with a thin strip of tiny rubies running through the middle.

“You remembered?” He grins.

“You did, too,” I whisper. My chest warms to the point that I want to smile but can't because...

This is fake; it was just a brilliant idea on my superior's part.

Twelve

8-31-2024

This is going to be the mission that ruins everything I was created to be.

-Sam

Jasmine is deep into her notepad, her lip tucked between her teeth and her brows pulled together in concentration. I haven't wanted to tell her we landed over ten minutes ago, so I've patiently waited untilshedecides it's time to close it.

It’s odd to think that all it took was the feeling of her mouth against mine to let a few walls crumble, but they did. Her tastehit me like a sledgehammer beating against any barrier I could provide until all that was left was me bare and exposed for her to see.

It was too much and not enough at the same.

The flight attendant steps around the corner again.What was her name? Lily? Lucy?Hell, I don't remember.She's one of the many recruits who never finished their training, so Caspian found them a different job to fill. I shoot yet another warning glare in her direction.

It’d be nice if she brought us the red wine Jasmine requested an hour ago instead of shooing us off like she’s not being paid enough when I know she is. After all, anyone who works for Depth–even as a stewardess–gets amply compensated. I turn my attention back towards Jasmine, hating how I keep getting distracted from all the new little things I could be learning about her.

Typically, I can only watch her write from a screen or at a distance. So, I've never noticed how her features change when she starts a new line or how she occasionally brings the tip of the pen between her teeth when contemplating.

“What are you writing about?” The question slips from my mouth quicker than I can pull it back, breaking Jasmine from turning whatever movie was playing in her head into words.

“Nothing.” Her voice strains with the stretch of her arms over her head.

“The weather? Your past? Goals, aspirations?” I start to interrogate out of habit, but her head darts to the window and around the cabin, cutting off my need to know. She almost looks lost in the way she scrambles to gather her stuff.

Sighing, I stand and extend my hand. Luckily, while she was in her fog, all our belongings were loaded into our vehicle, so I only have to focus on keeping her close.

“Come on, little devil.”

She wobbles when standing and grips the back of the seat to steady herself.

Hold onto me.The words stick to my tongue, refusing to come out, unwilling to give more of myself than I already have. My jaw clenches when she doesn't do what I crave. Instead, she straightens her shoulders and brushes her hand down the side of her dress, drawing my attention to the curves they trace over.

“Jet lag.” She laughs, and I hum, dropping my hand into my pocket to lead her through the aisle. The wind picks up as we approach the open door, sending Jasmine's hair into a flurry. We pause so she can brush it back, and the flight attendant huffs in response holding up a tray in our direction.

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