Page 51 of Crash & Burn

My mouth dries, and I forget how to speak. I feel my chest heat as he leans in even closer, only a few inches from me. He knows exactly what he is doing, and, like always, I’m not going down without a fight.

But before I can say anything, the air shifts. I can feel as he lets out a breath because he is so close, and my body feels like it is being pulled into him. I watch his eyes flick down to my lips, and my hands, with a mind of their own, find their place on his chest.

Why is it I can think rationally about how tonotdo this when I’m alone, but my brain turns to mush the second Eddie is around?

His breath hitches the moment my palms touch the fabric of his sweatshirt, and I can’t help but imagine what it would be like to feel the skin underneath

I close my eyes, ready for what is to come, but then the air shifts again. Eddie drops his arms from the top of the door frame and takes a step back into the hallway.

“No,” he says, and I feel a sting of rejection.

“No, what?” Even though I know exactly what he is saying no to.

“Can I come in?” he asks abruptly.

“Are you sure you can handle it?” I try to tease.

“Mia, I’m serious.”

I sigh and let out a dramatic groan because I know we can’t keep pretending that thisthingbetween us is okay.

“Fine,” I conclude and turn around to walk into the room. Eddie follows, and I hear the door close behind him.

“Can you, um, put some pants on?” I hear behind me. I turn to see him looking up at the ceiling.

“Why?”

“I can’t think straight when you look likethat.”

“What? You’ve never seen legs before? It’s not like I’m naked.”

“Might as well be,” he murmurs.

“What was that?” I ask, even though I heard perfectly fine.

Old habits die hard, and messing with Eddie is just too easy.

“I’m having a hard time focusing on anything besides the fact you have nothing on undermyT-shirt.

“Oh, I’m sorry, raindrop. Did you want it back?” I ask, batting my eyelashes. “Because I can take it off,” I say, moving my hands to grab the hem.

“You’re going to kill me,” he says. “Sit.”

I want to say something back, keep playing this game, but his seriousness catches me off guard, and while I want to do the opposite of what he says, there is something in his voice that makes my body listen.

So, I sit.

“Good girl. Now, we need to talk.”

He pulls the chair pushed into the desk next to the bed and sits down, arguably further away than he needs to, but I keep my mouth shut.

Something tells me that playtime is over.

Chapter 17

Mia

I let out a soft groan. In my right mind, I know we have to talk, and I was just thinking before he got here that we had a ton to talk about. But, now that he is here, ignoring my attempts to distract him, demanding me to sit, and calling me a good girl, half of me wants to be a brat and make this harder for him.

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