Page 56 of Damascus & The Wildfire
I let myself linger in that heat, biting my lip to hide a smile. “Maybe tonight, we should see how close we can get without crossing it.”
He dropped his head, letting his lips brush the shell of my ear—close enough I felt his breath, but not touching. “That sounds like a challenge, doll.”
I turned to face him, laughing lightly. “Then accept it.”
My pulse thundered at my throat, desperate for more, but I held the line. He grinned wickedly, eyes never leaving mine. Neither of us closed the distance, but the tension glittered sharp and heavy in the heat between us.
A golden haze leaked through my window as the sun rose only a few hours after landing in my bed. I buried my face deeper into the pillow. Brisket lay sprawled beside me. He thumped his tail as I woke, silently asking for a morning belly rub.
I hesitantly stretched my body, which ached from dancing and drinking until the bar closed. The ghost of Hatchet’s touch still tingled across my body, the memory of his rough fingers causing my stomach to flip. He touched me like I was made of dynamite, careful yet confident with his trademark cockiness and desire for anything that gave him a rush of adrenaline.
Memories of him standing at my door after driving me home rushed back to me. We stood on my porch as he held my elbow, keeping me steady as I teetered in my heels. He stepped in, his palm grazing my arm lightly. I could feel in the gravity of the moment that he was going to kiss me.
And I panicked. Full system shutdown. I turned away and unlocked the door as I told him good night.
But Hatchet just grinned. He chuckled, low and warm, like I hadn’t rejected him once again.
“I had a good time tonight, doll. Night,” he’d said beforeswaggering off like he didn’t have a single bruise on his ego. Like women who were a sure thing hadn’t been throwing themselves at him all night long.
Rolling onto my back, I stared up at the ceiling fan spinning lazy circles above me. Why had I pulled away? I liked Hatchet. As Eva reminded me time and time again, Alec wouldn’t expect me to stay loyal to his corpse. He’d want me to be happy. And I didn’t have to jump into a long-term, committed relationship. I could choose casual. Fun.
I struggled to reprogram the muscle memory of heartbreak. Pushing people away was a reflex.
But after Hatchet left, the ache for Alec felt more distant. Not gone. Not by a long shot. But dulled at the edges, like a scar that had healed enough that you could trace it with your fingers without wincing.
I’d spent so much time buried under the weight of my grief, living in my old apartment, where the ghost of memories of my life before trailed my every step. Texas had given me a fresh start. A home with halls Alec had never walked. New friends who were becoming family. And a sweet, overgrown puppy that brought purpose to my day.
I closed my eyes, letting myself drift in the feeling of hope and happiness that filled my chest. Brisket whined, growing impatient as I lazed in bed.
“Fine, I’ll get up. We’ll go for a walk before the air feels like we’re walking through hell,” I said, as if the dog spoke English and could understand me. His warm, mocha eyes and excited yip told me he just might.
My phone pinged as a text came through.
Eva:
Don’t forget that you’re meeting with Thane and the Riot today.
Me:
Yes, Mom. I won’t be late.
Eva:
Get there a few minutes early. And try not to piss off Thane again.
I rolled my eyes.
Me:
He could try basic communication about what is actually happening in the club.
Eva:
That is precisely the type of comment you need to keep in your head.
Me:
I’ll play nice today. Promise.
