Page 24 of Burn

He tips his head to the left, chewing on his bottom lip but he doesn’t say anymore and begins to walk away. I sneak one glance at the girl, but our eyes don’t meet; she’s focused on a couple yelling their order at her.

“Who was that?” I ask once we’re outside.

Please don’t say girlfriend.Hey, at this point in my game, I wouldn’t be surprised by it.

Caleb’s eyes move to the street, making a sweeping once over and then return to me. “My roommate.” He nods up the road. “What are you hungry for?”

I think for a minute, wrapping my arms around my waist as the crisp night air hits my body. Suddenly the heat I felt inside is gone completely, and I’m freezing and have no idea where my jacket I had on earlier went. I’m constantly losing jackets.

He steps into me and out of the street’s light. The shadows on his face give him an edge that’s reckless and sexy. “Here, you’re cold.” And then he hands me his jacket. “Wear this.”

I don’t tell him no because I’mthatcold. “Thank you,” I say, slipping my hands inside the sleeves of the leather jacket. The smell of leather and man hit my sense immediately, a smell that should totally be an air freshener. I’d buy that shit up like crazy.

“Why’d you hit that guy earlier tonight?” I blurt out, not thinking but wanting to know.

Even in the dim lighting of the street, I can see the flicker in his eyes, the tightening of his chin, a subtle shift of his shoulders as he shrugs, eyes straying to the door of the bar. He tilts his head just enough to let me know he probably doesn’t know the answer to it. “Had it coming.”

“Why?”

His eyes return to me, and a knot of tension in my throat rises. He shoots me a glance, one that tells me he’s done with my questions. “I thought you were hungry.” He grabs my hand again and drags me up the street. “I know a place.”

He takes me up the street about four blocks, the entire time we say nothing to each other, and then he points to a storefront crowded with people out the door. “Hope you’rereallyhungry.”

Oh, you have no idea, dude.

Thankfully I don’t say that, and I smile, my hand gliding over the hard plains of his broad chest. “Oh, trust me. I’m hungry.”

I hope he knows the meaning behind those words and by the smirk. The way his eyes drag over my body, he gets it.

“This place any good?”

He nods to the overflowing hole in the wall burger joint. “Think the crowd speaks for the quality.”

“It better be or I’m holding you responsible.” I turn and reach for the handle only to have him knock my hand away and open the door for me.

Ah, nice of him.

There’re so many people you can barely move, and I’m a bit overwhelmed by it. This has to be over regulation for how many people are allowed inside this building.

“What’s good here?” I ask, looking at the menu chalked out on the wall.

I’m shoulder to shoulder with bodies but the only one I see or feel is the one who’s acting like I’m the only one in the room, his intense stare locks on mine, and I realize I asked what’s good here.

“Everything.” He wraps one arm around my shoulder and then points to the wall with the menu. “I usually get the fig and pig burger, but it’s a hard choice for me. The trotter is amazing too.”

Fig and pig? Trotter? What crazy names for burgers.

Slowly, I glance at where he pointed to the wall. My eyes scan the menu and the ingredients of both. Onions, fig, apples, bacon . . . I’m going to have horrible breath no matter what I pick, but I’m starving since I never ate lunch today.

“I think I’m gonna try the trotter.” I look to him for approval. I hate that he’s wearing a hat. It makes it so much harder to see him. I hope he’s not bald and that’s the reason he’s wearing a hat.

Maybe he can read my thoughts because just then he takes his hat off, runs his hand through a mop of dark wavy hair and then replaces it, adjusting the way it fits.

I smile, still watching him. I’m so glad he’s not bald.

He smiles, too, cute and boyish, pretty green eyes roaming over my face and then landing on mine. I hate how much his smile pulls me in, like the wolf in Little Red Riding Hood saying, “Come here, my precious.” Or wait . . . shit. Was that Gollum inLord of the Rings?

Our gazes lock. Hold. Question without speaking. “Good choice,” he finally says.

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