Beneath the Stars (Falling Stars 4)

Attraction flashed.

A shockwave of it.

Fuck.

This girl.

“And why’s that? Why can’t you be thinking those things?” There wasn’t a hint of timidity in her voice. Vulnerability? Sure. Want? A fuck ton of it.

A rough chuckle tumbled out, and I paused my playing to scratch at my beard. “Think you know the answer to that, gorgeous.”

“Do I?” she challenged, charcoal eyes flashing beneath the moonlight. “Because of Melanie?”

Apparently, I wasn’t clear enough.

“God no. Might give the girl hell and mess with her every chance I get, but Mel and I are nothin’ but friends, Maggie.”

And not the kinda friends that Maggie and I seemed to be, either.

Rejection radiated from her. “Is this that whole age gap thing? Because you think I’m too young?”

“Maggie.” Air heaved through my nose.

How was I supposed to answer that? Because yeah. She was fuckin’ too young for me. Had her whole damned life ahead of her and she didn’t need the likes of me makin’ her trip or stumble.

“I’m sorry I’m being so blunt. I just…” Nervously, her tongue swept across her bottom lip, and her gaze darted to the side as she whispered, “Yesterday…”

Yesterday she’d almost been hit by a car.

Yesterday I’d almost kissed her.

Yesterday I’d touched her in a way that had been both innocent and obscene.

After that, I’d forced myself into accepting that was something I couldn’t do again, which had been reiterated times a thousand by Melanie in the kitchen this afternoon.

Maggie brought that penetrating gaze back to me. “I need you to know something, Rhys. I need you to know that yesterday meant something to me.”

At that, her voice trembled. Emotion warbled through the mind-bending beats.

My heart clenched.

“How’s that?” I was almost scared to ask.

“It meant something because I realized that I trust you in a way I’ve trusted very few people in my life.”

There she was…just layin’ her heart at my feet for me to stomp all over with my boots.

The girl flawless in her brokenness.

Fearless in her vulnerabilities.

Old sorrow spun. Rising up from the depths where my grief lived. “That is exactly what I’m afraid of, darlin’.”

My grin was brittle.

“Why would you be afraid of that? Trust is a rare and precious thing.”

Agony clutched me by the throat.

God.

This girl got right to it.

I roughed an agitated hand through my hair. “Maybe we should go back to that tiptoein’, yeah?”

She shook her head softly. “I don’t know how to ignore this, Rhys. The way you make me feel. The fact you’ve made me want something—someone—for the first time since I was fifteen.”

Fifteen.

Fifteen.

Fifteen.

Nausea curled through my stomach. Thinking about it made me want to puke my guts up in front of her all over again.

I couldn’t fathom someone hurting her that way. My palm still burned with the imprint that bastard had made on her. Like the shape of her scar had been seared onto my flesh.

A fuckin’ tattoo stamped on my soul.

“Damn good reason right there.”

Touching her would be a travesty.

Straight blasphemy.

Hope and sorrow pulsed across her face. “No, Rhys, it’s all the more reason to pay attention to what it’s saying.”

“Only thing I’m good for is a good time, Sweet Thing, and I’m pretty sure that’s not what you’re lookin’ for.”

“And how do you know what I’m looking for?” Shy seduction filled her voice.

“You think I don’t feel you, too?” I was moving before I thought better of it, setting my guitar aside and shifting around onto my knees so I could crawl up close to the temptation of her tight, sweet body.

Girl magnetic.

A delicious treat dangled in front of me. Except if I took a taste? Knew I would want more. Forever crave it.

Worst of it?

Thought I might fuckin’ fall, and I couldn’t shoulder another betrayal.

But there I was, planting my hands on the ground on either side of her legs.

She gasped a small breath.

I inhaled it where I hovered over her, and she leaned farther back against the wall. My words were grit. “I feel you, too, Maggie. And the last fuckin’ thing I want to do is hurt you, and I have a really bad habit of hurtin’ the ones I love most.”

She blinked up at me with those eyes.

Thunderbolts.

Beautiful, awe-inspiring destruction.

“I don’t believe you’d hurt me.”

I twisted a lock of that shiny black hair around my finger, leaning in closer and murmuring at her ear, “You’re right. I won’t. Won’t let it go that far.”

She pulled back enough so she could meet my gaze. “And that’s what makes you amazing, Rhys Manning, the fact that you actually care. That’s the reason I trust you. That…and you can feel me, too.”

With a trembling hand, she reached up and splayed her hand out over the thunder of my heart.

A moan locked in my throat.

Shit.

How was it she could turn the tables on me in a second flat? I had to take control. Turn the focus on this girl and whatever was going on with her.