Page 45 of Ablaze

Ah, so that’s why she was able to come over without much preamble.

And as if she can read my thoughts, she wiggles her toes again, getting my attention. “I would’ve been here even if he was in town, Fido. So, turn that frown upside down.” She chuckles lazily.

A beat passes between us when she speaks again, bringing back our earlier conversation about how things ended with Jessie. I’d given her the long and short of it. “So, that was it? Jessie just said goodbye to you in her colorful way and left?”

“Pretty much.”

She scoots closer to me, pulling her feet under her and grabbing my hand. And as much as she’s focusing on my face, I can see her eyelids are heavy. Even her words are slightly slurred. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Dean. In fact, you did the right thing by telling her you wouldn’t lend her brother more money. It’s not cool of her to expect you to bail him out again and again.”

I nod, looking at our linked hands. “Yeah. Doesn’t mean I don’t feel like shit, though.”

Mala’s soft hand wraps around my jaw. “You feel like that because you’re a good guy, Dean. A really good guy.” Her breath fans over my lips, and I can practically taste the cherry liquor on my tongue, making my mouth water. Her hand drops to my chest, and she fists my shirt. “You have a beautiful heart and . . . and you deserve more. A lot more.”

Mala licks her lips, gearing up to say more of whatever is bouncing around in that hazy brain of hers, but I can’t seem to unpin my eyes off them. I don’t care that she’s not making complete sense or that the edge from the alcohol has her a bit more emotional and a little loose-lipped. I could watch her talk just like this for goddamn forever.

“You’re kind and generous.” Her fist tightens on my shirt and she pulls me closer. I don’t resist. “You’re sweet and smart.” Her teeth drag over her bottom lip, and I get the feeling the alcohol is doing more than making her loose-lipped. It’s making her feel bold. “You’re hot.”

If she can feel the thudding of my heart under her fist, she doesn’t show it. Not until her eyes slowly rise to meet mine, and then I know she can definitely feel it.

I swallow and she languidly tracks the movement in my throat. “You think I’m hot?”

She nods before a smile stretches over her lips. “Go ahead and say it. That it’s a blessing and curse to be so good-looking. That you’re not even surprised I think you’re hot because anyone with functioning eyes can see that you are.”

Her smile falters when she sees the look on my face, devoid of humor. “You never told me you thought that.”

Her brows knit and even though her eyelids threaten to close, the slightest kindle ignites behind her mocha-colored gaze. “There’s a lot I haven’t told you, Sparky.”

A sense of déjà vu washes over me as I take in our position on this sofa. Sure, the last time we were this close was three years ago in her apartment, but this feeling, this moment, seems almost identical.

And though so much has changed since then, some things haven’t.

“You’re not driving home like this,” I say, changing the direction of our conversation and shoving the crazy thoughts out of my brain. Thoughts that make me wonder if those ideas–the damn wishes and desires–I’ve kept locked inside a fucking box for so long can maybe, possibly, actually be explored.

Maybe, just fucking maybe, it could all work out–

No.

It fucking couldn’t. It wouldn’t.

“You can have my bed and drive home in the morning.” My molars grind as I try to control the anger flaring up inside me and rise to my feet.

Mala’s hand drops to her lap, her expression dazed. She has no fucking clue how this all went sideways. Neither do I. One moment, we were throwing out riddles, drinking, and catching up, and the next, I’m all but ready to throw something because I’m confused. Angry.

Who the fuck am I even angry at? Me? Her? This fucked-up situation?

I don’t even know anymore. All I know is I need this girl out of my sight before I eat my own words and do something we’ll both regret for the rest of our lives.

Before the tingling in my fingers gets too strong to resist and I touch her in ways I shouldn’t.

Before this yearning, like some living, breathing entity, takes full control, and I forget that she’s the one girl I won’t touch. That I can’t have. Won’t have.

Mala nods, looking a little defeated, and I’m seconds away from telling her it’s not her. It’s never been her. But I don’t. “Yeah, okay. But I can just sleep on the couch.”

I crouch down, sliding my arms under her knees and back, pulling her to my chest. “You’re sleeping in my bed. There’s no buts about it.”

She doesn’t fight me any further, circling her arms around my neck, and I try to ignore the perfect press of her against my chest. Like she belongs there. Like she’s always belonged there.

God, what the fuck am I thinking? How did I get here? At this moment where I’m outright considering what I’ve never considered before. Where I’m outright wanting what I shouldn’t.

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