Page 58 of Watch Me Burn
She runs a hand through her hair, a nervous gesture I’ve memorized from countless nights of watching her. The guilt gnaws at my chest as I take in every detail of her face on my screen. She has no idea I’m not in Tokyo. No clue that in twelve hours, I’ll be losing myself inside her again with a wolf mask on my face.
“Did they set it up?” I force my voice to remain casual.
“Damien, you can’t. This is too much. It’s a half-million-dollar machine. I can’t accept this.”
“Luna—“
“No. This is too generous. Too expensive. I don’t know how I can ever repay you for something like this.”
I walk over to sit on the sofa. “You don’t owe me anything. There are no strings attached to this gift, Luna. None.”
“But why? I just needed to use CSU’s machine. Why would you do something like this?”
Because I love you.
“What you do is important,” I say instead. “You shouldn’t have to compromise your animals’ care because you don’t have the right equipment.”
There’s silence on the other end, and she bites her lower lip the way she does when she’s thinking.
“I wanted to do this for you. Let me.”
“Damien.” Her voice is soft and vulnerable. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Say you’ll still let me take you out when I get back.” The lie burns my throat as I watch her face on the screen.
“Yes, Damien.” Her lips curve into a smile. “I told you, call me when you get back.”
Relief floods through me. “Good. I’m looking forward to it.”
“You didn’t say how long you’ll be gone?”
“I don’t know yet.” The lies pour off my tongue with such ease these days, I don’t know what’s true anymore. Except this woman. “But I’ll call you when I get back into town.”
“Be safe.” The genuine concern in her voice makes me feel like absolute shit for lying to her.
“I will. And Luna?”
“Yeah?”
“Thank you.”
“For what?” Her face is a mask of beautiful confusion.
“For letting me be part of your world.”
Her eyes drop from the camera to focus on something off-screen. Several heartbeats pass. When she finally looks back, her expression has shifted. It’s softer, unguarded, and vulnerable in a way that squeezes my heart.
“Thank you for wanting to be.”
Luna is standing in front of the window of the enclosed porch when I approach the back of the house. Though the lights are off, the moon’s glow makes her look like something I don’t deserve to touch. Her hair is loose, tumbling over her shoulders, and she sways on her feet, an empty wine glass dangling from her fingers. Two half-emptied bottles sit on the coffee table, casualties of her and Maren’s celebration. Those two drink a lot.
Cold November air rushes past me as the back door creaks open, and I step inside. She startles, whirling toward me, her hand flying to her chest.
“Jesus, you’re like a steal… stealth ninja sometimes.”
The words tumble together with wine-softened edges, her tongue catching on consonants that usually come so crisp and clear. She’s adorable when she’s had too much to drink.
I ease the door shut behind me and take in the flush that the wine has painted across her cheeks and the liquid shine coating her eyes, free of the careful tension that usually guards her expression.
