Page 10 of Ivory's Ruin Romance

“Lucky midterms,” he scoffed.

She giggled, blushing as she tried to wrangle in her wayward imagination. “Unlucky me.”

“Come on.” He offered his arm. She swallowed, staring at him. He might as well have died and been reincarnated with the shift in moods. “Unless you’d rather wait here.”

“I’ll go,” she said, hurrying to take his offer.

The tilting sidewalk was no match now, with the help of her black knight’s sturdy arm.

He sighed once more, then looked over at her as his lips tipped up, fighting a smirk. “I knew you’d let me bring you to my place tonight.”

FIVE

A scar or two on his knuckles wouldn’t have been half bad, but the brunette clinging to his arm proved to have a much greater impact on his health. And he had a feeling her effects would linger far longer than any pain in his hand.

This girl really knew how to get under his skin. Not just under it—if he was being honest, Ivory had been wedging herself deeper and deeper into his psyche for a while now. She’d watched him ceaselessly, and now that he’d proven he wasn’t worth her effort, she went and chased after him. What made her go out of her way to make sure he was okay?

He had to keep reminding himself that she was restricted. Forbidden. Yet every drunken slip of her body into his felt much more apparent than it should’ve.

She could never be his. He didn’t—shouldn’t—mix with the kind of person who led a decent life. If he got too close, he’d likely burst into flames. By that logic, however, his eyes should’ve been charred to a crisp because they kept wandering over her ass. The short spandex shorts under the sheer fabric of her costume left too little to the imagination and too much at the same time.

That, and her infectious voice, which relaxed the further they got from the frat house.

“If you don’t want to be my knight, what should I call you, sir?”

He exhaled slowly, trying not to notice how that word sounded from her lips. Or how it conjured images of her bound at the wrists, legs spread as he taught her how good of a girl she’d be for him.

If anyone was due for a punishment tonight, it was him.

“My name,” he replied in a flat, disinterested tone.

“Adrian, right?” she asked with that happy lilt to her voice, words less slurred than before. Her breath smelled of fruity margaritas, and a faint floral perfume wafted from her hair and clothes. The witch costume blended almost too well with the night. Flashes of purple teased glimpses of her pale skin every time they walked under a streetlamp, only to fade to black like a mystery he could never unveil.

“Yeah,” he answered, forcing himself to look straight ahead.

She giggled. “I like it, but you do look like a black knight.”

His gaze shifted, and he took in the drunken glee on her face, which was ten times as potent as the rest of her. That gorgeous smile had recovered from Jace’s transgression, and her dark lipstick wore off at the crease to reveal her lips’ natural strawberry color.

“You look sweet,” he stated.

“That’s no good—” She stepped in front of him and pouted, pushing out those sweet berry lips. “I’m supposed to look like an evil witch.”

He stopped. “Then you’re a sweet, evil witch. The most dangerous ones appear innocent, after all.”

That made her laugh, and his heart skipped a beat. The ring of her voice faded as she stared into his eyes. The silence grew still and heavy. She seemed at a loss for words, but he couldn’t trust himself to speak, either. Under the moonlit shadows, it wasn’t far-fetched to imagine her weaving a secret spell.

Then her body tipped forward, and he reached out to catch her before she hit the cement—but she wasn’t falling. He froze as the velvet of her lips brushed his jaw. The warmth of her body pressed against his. Fuck, she felt so soft, but for some reason his chest tightened and he couldn’t find the strength to breathe.

His hand stiffened on her hip, and he gently pushed her back. “Ivory,” he whispered. “You’re drunk.”

A pause, punctuated by the low roll of tires and the crunch of dead leaves as a car drove past.

“Right,” she mumbled and took a step back.

“I won’t hold it against you,” he replied. "Don't worry."

“No, I shouldn’t have—” She turned awkwardly and started walking again. “I already imposed too much on you tonight.”

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