Playing with Fire - Page 84

I lived in a town I hated, among people who were suspicious of me, with no chance at escaping, because I needed to take care of my grandmother—who’d started the fire she’d blamed me for.

West cupped my cheeks—even the tainted one—and forced me to look up at him.

I blinked away the tears, holding my breath as I awaited his verdict.

He kissed my forehead, his lips lingering on my skin, then said the most stupid, outrageous, beautiful, awful, touching thing anyone had ever told me.

“I’m grateful that Tuesday went down the way it did.” His voice was scratchy. Thick. “Because the worst day of your life gave me the best version of you.”

Grace

The next day, I walked the length of Lawrence Hall toward its cafeteria, hugging my textbooks to my chest. I thought about how weird it was that so many things had happened in the same week.

West had begun to work at the food truck.

The rehearsal for A Streetcar Named Desire had started.

And because our university auditorium had been under construction ahead of the big show, fifty percent of my classes had moved to Lawrence Hall—where West spent most of his time—until the end of the semester.

Normally, I wouldn’t have seen him too often. We were on opposite sides of the university, in different buildings, in different cafeterias, even different sections of the parks.

Suddenly, our lives were entwined everywhere.

An arm snaked through the narrow gap of the men’s restroom, yanking me inside.

My back hit the wall with a thud.

West’s face popped into my vision. He boxed me, running his nose along mine, his hot breath wafting over my face.

“Texas Shaw. Fancy seeing ya here.”

“Well, you did drag me in here.” I clutched my books to my chest tighter, still unsure whether I was delighted or annoyed with his gesture. Yesterday, after the post-orgasm fog had dissipated and West had grabbed his stuff and left, I wondered what on earth I was doing. What were we?

A couple?

Friends with benefits?

A gorgeous, obnoxious, colossal mistake?

I gave him access to my everything—secrets, body, deepest, darkest thoughts—and I didn’t even know where we stood. It irked me. A part of me wanted to claim him as mine, but another warned me I wasn’t ready for the gossip that came with it. To the questions and whispers and self-doubt, when the world would no doubt remind me Sheridan’s best would never truly settle for its worst citizen.

West’s lips latched onto mine. He grumbled into my mouth as he pried my lips open, thrusting his tongue inside. I whimpered, my textbooks dropping on the tiles between us. A warm surge of pleasure pooled in my womb. Lord, the man knew how to use his tongue.

When he pulled away, it took me a few seconds to find my voice again.

“You owe me three textbooks. I’m not pickin’ these up.”

He looked down and laughed, kicking them aside.

“On it.”

“How can I help you, St. Claire?”

“Why, I’m glad you asked. Suck me off after our shifts tonight,” he said briskly.

“No can do. I have to look for caregivers for Grams.”

He gave me a look I didn’t like. It was the same look Marla and Karlie offered me. The one that told me I needed to look reality in the eye and start looking for nursing homes. They were more affordable in the long run, they’d accommodate her situation, force her into medicating, and she’d lead a more active lifestyle. I knew all that, but I couldn’t help but fear she’d never forgive me.

It wasn’t what she wanted.

At least, it wasn’t what she thought she wanted.

“I’ll help you out.”

“You will?” My eyebrows shot up.

“Sure.”

“Why?”

“Why?” He tapped his lips, leaning into my personal space, making a show of thinking about it. “Because I want to spend time with you. Ideally horizontally.”

I punched his shoulder. He pretended to stumble back, holding on to his “injured” deltoids.

“Horizontally, huh?” I rolled my eyes.

“Vertically too. How are your oral skills?”

“You’re not about to find out anytime soon. Tit for tat, remember?” I wiggled my eyebrows, feeling so normal my heart swelled. He swaggered back to my side, slipping his hand under my shirt and kneading my left breast, dragging his mouth from my collarbone to my neck.

“Speaking of tits, I missed those.”

“Such a romantic.”

“I can be anything you want me to be.” He grinned mischievously. “Other than a unicorn. I can’t be that.”

And truly mine, I thought bitterly.

I stumbled out of the men’s restroom, making a stop in the girls’ restroom to apply the makeup he probably ruined in his quest to nibble on my face, then went into the cafeteria, on the lookout for Karlie.

My best friend was sitting with a bunch of her brainiac friends, crouching over thick textbooks, arguing heatedly over something. West was three tables down, with Easton, Reign, and the football crew. Guess all was well between West and Easton, now that the latter was out of the picture and West and I were finally happening.

Tags: L.J. Shen Romance
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