Burn (Virtues & Lies 1)

No.

Maybe just a little.

I don’t think I do at all.

But from the way his eyes are watching and waiting for my answer, I believe he really does want me to. It makes no sense, but I’ll give him whatever he wants right now.

“Yes.”

The deep exhale that pushes out of his mouth is punctuated with a groaned, “Good.” And then his lips press to mine. Hard. The kind of hard that makes you ache from the inside out like your bones might be too big for your skin.

It’s like all my insides are twisting and knotting as his tongue breaches my mouth and all I can taste is him. And just as I think this kiss can’t get any better, his fingers tunnel into my hair and twist, pulling at it and messing up the ballerina bun at my crown.

Latching onto his sides, I bunch his dinner jacket in my fists. It feels like the only way to keep myself from falling as he explores my mouth and I lap up everything he gives me.

“Leo?”

We both freeze at the sound of his name. Leo’s so tense that his limbs might crack if I force them from me, like he’s an old porcelain mannequin that’s been left in a hot window for too long.

Noticing the way his jaw clenches and his nostrils flare when the sharp female voice calls him again, I straighten as best I can and peer over his left shoulder.

I recognise the girl he was dancing with instantly. Her blue come hither eyes are razor sharp and her pointed chin is set with a scowl.

Laura Stanton, the Prime Minister’s daughter. The girl who made my life hell until she left college. I hate her.

Although Leo’s still pinning me to the wall with his hands now loose on my shoulders, without so much as acknowledging her, her glower is aimed at only me. Standing there with her hands on her perfect hips, looking at me like I’ve stolen her puppy or something.

Have I stolen her something?

Even though I’m asking myself this question, I can’t help how perfectly envious I am of her glossy gold hair and perfect thirty-four-twenty-five-thirty-four hourglass figure. A real-life Barbie.

I try to push Leo away because I’m not this girl that hurts others because she wants what’s theirs. Even if that’s the kind of girl Laura is. He won’t budge, though, and when I look at him, his eyes are hard. They’re like beer bottle glass ready to shatter at the smallest impact.

“Don’t. Move.” He orders, taking a step back and to the side so that he is looking between me and Laura. The instant cold that washes over me leaves me lost for a second, all I can do is watch Leo and wonder if he’s made me into someone I’ll despise.

The way his eyes flicker from me to her, back and forth, it’s like he’s deciding who to pick. It’s such a ridiculous notion, considering his tongue was just licking at every nook and cranny of my mouth.

Maybe he’s looking for a way of justifying himself to her.

Regardless, I’m certain he’ll pick her. My hair is too ashen and bland next to hers. My brown eyes are just brown eyes. My body isn’t evenly proportioned. Although my hips are technically the same width as my shoulders, my small chest makes them look a lot bigger. Rounder. Bulkier.

Another thing she liked to point out in her jibes. Fat bottomed girl.

I force my eyes back to Leo, to find him already looking at me with his beguiling green orbs, thick, kiss swollen lips, and high cheekbones.

Next to each other, face on, they’re intimidating. They look like the definition of power couple, and fuck if that doesn’t make me more jealous of Laura. First the way they danced, and now the way they look simply standing beside one another.

“Are you coming back inside?” she asks, irritation distorting the pitch of her voice.

“Where the fuuuu…” All three of us glance towards the end of the hall where Fleur is standing wide-eyed, glancing between us like she’s walked into a Mexican standoff or something.

It’s then I make the decision for him because I can’t bear to stand here and wait for him to make up his mind on who he wants. I mean, it’s not like we mean something to one another.

That’s not how it feels though.

I inwardly growl at the stupid voice that seems to have left my head and is currently inhabiting my chest. Fleur is right, he hasn’t taken a single opportunity to give me anything other than glances and touches that are cut short. He hasn’t given me any Leo. I want to know him, but it doesn’t feel like it’s a reciprocated feeling.

I start for my friend, my eyes clouding with treacherous tears and my breathing so erratic that my small boobs may well pop out of the currently too tight corseted bodice of my dress.