Page 21 of Secrets and S'mores
“That’s not how it goes,” she says, her arms crossing. A beautiful flush rises up her neck.
“Tell me I’m wrong. You’re always expecting a fight. Why is that?” I push forward, demanding an answer with my direct gaze.
“Of course I am,” she hisses.
“Why?” I won’t let this go. I need to know what drives her.
“Because I have to fight for everything I have. It makes me stronger.” Her pose is regal, chin up, shoulders back.
“You shouldn’t have to,” I argue.
A flash of teeth almost pushes me back a step, but I hold my ground. The green glow to her eyes is threaded through with gold.
It wouldn’t surprise me if my own eyes were that cool blue they turn when I’m upset or turned on.
“Not all of us have a fairytale childhood.”
My hands go to her upper arms, keeping her from turning away from me. She doesn’t seem to notice, her tongue darting out to wet her lips.
“My pack saw me as a punching bag. If I wasn’t tough, I’d be dead.” The cold resignation in her words makes my heart pound. No wondershe’s so defensive.
Instinctively, I pull her into my chest. She stiffens and with a dry cough, she asks, “So, are we about to fight or fuck?”
My laugh is raw. “No, I’m comforting you.”
“Well, it’s weird,” she protests while settling against me. I could rest my chin on the top of her head if I wanted to. She fits against me perfectly.
“Do you want me to stop?” I ask.
“In a minute,” she murmurs. Slowly, her muscles relax.
Taking in a deep lungful of air, I lose myself in her scent. It’s a walk in the meadow in the moments before it begins to storm. Electric, sweet, and heady.
The door bangs open and Ember leaps back, as if we were never touching.
Patrol pours in, chatting while they head for their lockers. Hawthorne nods at me in greeting, his eyebrows rising as he takes in Ember’s flushed skin. Thankfully, he leaves us alone.
With a sigh, I uncap a water bottle and offer it to Ember. She hesitates before taking it, and doesn’t drink until I’ve had half of the second bottle.
“I think I’m ready for a shower,” she says, making a face, “You got your sweat on me.”
The distance between us shrinks as we walk northward toward my home, our arms almost brushing.
The house is quiet. Before we go into our separate rooms, Ember pauses. “Look, I shouldn’t have told you any of that about my pack. I was being kinda emotional and it wasn’t very accurate.”
The lie stings.
“Really? It seemed true when you said it. And I like hearing about your life,” I say.
Her eyes narrow. “Don’t worry. It won’t happen again.”
“Ember,” I say, hoping to stop her from disappearing. It doesn’t work.
She begins to close the bedroom door between us, but before it clicks shut, she says, “Just forget it, Onyx.”
6 Saucy Burritos & Half-Brothers
Ember
