Page 47 of Through the Flames
The way he spoke made me bite my tongue. So many questions were burning inside me, but his wall was up, solid and unmovable, so I stayed silent.
His silvery gaze flicked to me again. Heavy and steady, making my nipples pucker against the thick fabric of my hoodie.
In the cold, with the moonlight cutting through the trees, he felt like the only thing keeping me anchored.
And yeah, my brain was doing the thing again; imagining him leaning closer just enough to notice the freckles on my nose, the stupid little scar on my thumb.
The worst (or best?) part was, I knew I’d never say any of this aloud. Safe in fantasy, because in reality, he’d probably think I was ridiculous.
We sat there, breath fogging white, silence thick as a blanket.
This hadn’t been planned, and I wasn’t sure if it was anything we’d ever label.
But I knew I’d be back here again,and so would he.
Thirteen
Hunter
End of December
Even I could never have anticipated just how much tapping into Ella’s phone would come in clutch.
My life would be so much more complicated, and I’d be at risk of missing out on critical information.
Like the fact that my girl had a blind date tonight.
A normal person would’ve let it go. Would’ve told themselves it was none of their business.
That she was free to sit across from some stranger and let him make her laugh, let him imagine he had a chance.
But I was not fucking wired that way.
So I waited.
I knew they were meeting in a gastro-pub off campus with lights far too dim for my taste. It served craft beer and, frankly, tried too hard to be something it wasn’t.
I got there ten minutes early, took a seat at the bar in the shadow of a TV screen, and ordered a Diet Coke. The waitercould throw me annoyed looks all he wanted, but I didn’t need food.
I needed to be on top of this.
When Ella walked in with her hair falling in soft waves around her shoulders, I had to bite my knuckles to stop myself from reacting.
She was wearing it down.Fuck!
Her navy dress wasn’t flashy, but it hugged her in all the right places. It was modest until she moved, and the hem shifted just enough to remind you her legs could fucking ruin a man.
She clutched her purse like it was armor, and her eyes scanned the room once, twice, three times before she spotted him.
The guy was already sitting at a table near the window.
Average build paired with an average face, sporting a polo shirt ironed too crisp, like his mom still did his laundry. His smile stretched wide when she stepped through the door, all teeth and no sincerity.
I hated him on sight. To be fair, I hated themallon sight, so he wasn’t anything special.
I cataloged everything in seconds: The way his eyes darted down her body before he stood up and the limp handshake he gave her, which lasted too long and involved his thumb dragging against her wrist.
But it was the nervous, overeager laugh he let out before she had even opened her mouth that told me everything.
