Page 61 of Forget Me Not
Indecision tore at her.
His retreat was her fault, and she was disappointed—butwhy? She shouldwanthim to retreat.
But she didn’t. Not really. And she couldn’t ignore it anymore.
Before he could back up any further, she slipped her hands around his neck, pulling him down until their mouths crashed together. Taking advantage of his shocked gasp, she darted her tongue inside, licking at his.
His surprise only lasted a second before his hands were on her—one winding into her hair, the other clenching the back of her shirt at the small of her back.
He kissed her like he was diffusing a bomb, careful and deliberate.
She pulled his bottom lip between her teeth. He groaned, his hand at her back flattening as he pulled her closer.
Then, with a devilish smile, she released his lip and planted a quick peck on his cheek. Just as quickly as she had grabbed him, she let go and stepped back, fingers brushing lightly over her lips.
“Goodnight, Bastien,” she whispered, then quickly slipped inside, leaving Bas dumbfounded on her porch.
Bastien
Mountainsoffoodwerepiled high, covering the entire counter. Soriah and Del worked quickly, setting out paper plates and napkins for the last-minute party they decided to throw.
Okay, so Cyrus had decided they were having a party—and when he unloaded a trunk full of groceries, no one argued. Especially when he suggested they invite the girls.
Bastien was starting to think his mother and sister liked Syve more than him—though honestly, he couldn’t blame them.
Not that he had the brain capacity to do much of anything since he left her place a few nights ago.
She kissed him, closed the door, then turned the porch light off.
It had taken him a two-hour run and averylong, very cold, shower every night since before sleep was even an option. When he finally was able to drift off, he dreamt of her and those damned teeth scraping against his—
“Hey, Pup! You gonna stand there all night or are you gonna come out here and help me start this fucking fire?”
Fire?
“Fire? What do you mean,fire? Cyrus? What do you mean, fire—there’s no fire pit out there!”
Bastien was right—there wasn’t a fire pit. But he was also wrong, because by the time he stumbled out onto the deck, there was a giant hole right in the middle of the yard.Perfect, he dug his own grave.
“Great, now that you’re out here, you can pour the kerosene.” Cyrus wiped his forehead with the back of his hand, leaning his weight against a shovel.
Where the hell did he get kerosene?
Flames licked at the sky as they danced across a mound of scrap wood and dried branches. Though he was loath to admit it, Cyrus had crafted a really nice fire pit. The depth of the pit paired with the large ring of stones had seemed excessive at first, but it did safely contain the entire bonfire.
Thankfully, the girls arrived just as Cyrus struck the match, so there were other witnesses when the idiot lit his pants on fire. He managed to drop his pants in time to avoid any serious burns, the denim continued to burn on the grass and had to be stomped out. Aimi, of all people, volunteered to help Cyrus inside to clean up and tend to his minor burns. There must have been a decent number because they were gone for quite a while.
Syve had been in his house, in his line of sight even, for twenty whole minutes before he even got the chance to talk to her. The second she stepped through the door his mother and sister pounced. It didn’t seem to bother Syve in the slightest, however, she smiled happily, listening to every word they had thrown at her.
At least, almost every word—there were a few times he caught her staring at him and when she would turn back to the others, he was almost positive she was asking them to repeat themselves.
When she wasfinallystanding next to him, hands stretched out toward the fire, she asked, “How did you guys manage to get the pit put in so fast?”
“You’d have to ask Mr. Flammable about that,” he joked.
“Somehow, I had a feeling he was responsible.”
“I hate to admit, but it was a good idea.”
