Page 53 of Golden Burn

I glare at him while Dom and Ford snicker. “Whatever,” I grumble, and slurp the rest of my drink down.

We finish the round. I come second, Ford third and Dom last.

Dom tries to not be ruffled, but I can see he isn’t happy. Ford sneaks in a quick kiss on his cheek before Dom can deny him. It’s adorable.

“Alright, Dom, you can start first,” I say.

The game unfolds quietly, all of us concentrating. Ford and I have the worst hands and start to fall behind. Very quickly, it’s down to Dom and Odin, and I’m quite happy to watch the two of them battle it out. Dom is focused, his face composed, but every now and then, I see a flicker of doubt. Odin, on the other hand, is confident—not smug, but not humble either. He knows what he’s doing, and he knows how to get it. The only way to play the game is his way. And it’s that glimpse of surety that has me shuffling on the spot, the space between my legs warming, moistening. Last night, Odin set a small fire ablaze inside of me that I can’t for the life of me snuff out.

Dom puts down a good card, making Odin’s lips twitch. Is he happy? Or pissed? I’m leaning forward in my seat. My chest is tight, my stomach spinning. Odin glances at me. “Your turn,” he says, low and rough. I jolt on the spot, the cards in my hand splaying out onto the table. The force of his handsome face knocking me about.

“Shit. Pass. Pass. I can’t beat that,” I mumble as Ford laughs.

“Well, looks like we know who the next asshole will be.” I throw him my middle finger, which only makes him laugh more.

Back to Odin, he picks a card with his long fingers, taps it against his lips three times. But instead of putting it onto the pile, he says, “Pass.”

Dom’s eyes nearly pop out of his head. Getting to start the next round, he puts down a high-ranking card. An ace.

Without hesitation, Odin picks a card from his fingers, looks Dom directly in the eye, and puts it down.

Two.

Dom swears. “You’re a bastard, you know that?”

Odin raises his eyebrows and licks his bottom lip. “I’m the President, actually.” Oh boy. If seeing him smile wasn’t cataclysmic enough, seeing him playful is almost too much. It transforms him entirely.

“Well done. That was quite a game you played,” I say, shivering from the drop in temperature.

“I’ll be back in a minute.” Odin gets up and leaves, and I shrink a little, thinking I might have said something wrong. He returns a few minutes later with a suit jacket. He places it around my shoulders, and I know instantly he’s worn this recently. The scent of him is still fresh, still pure. My shoulders tremble with a satisfied shiver, while my stomach pulses, the ache growing exponentially.

“Thank you,” I say, finding his gaze. His single gray eye twinkles like a smoldering meteorite.

“You’re welcome.”

Ford grunts as he stretches his arms. “Alright, I’m out. I need some rest after spending all my energy keeping you three alive.”

“The night is still young,” I say.

He cracks his neck. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

We stand, trail up the platform and halt once back on the river ledge. I cling to the center of Odin’s jacket, retreating into it like a turtle into its shell. The scent of his skin, musky and masculine, is sending me into a daze.

Ford and Dom say goodbye to us, and I sense as they leave that they wanted to say more. Maybe it’s better if they don’t. This relationship between the three of us took more than a step tonight. It took a giant leap.

“Let’s go,” Odin says.

Night has swept in and with it, a shimmering veil of the brightest stars I have ever seen. I walk the whole way back with Odin, staring at the sky, and as we do, it doesn’t feel nearly as oppressive as it should. I’m almost skipping, that’s how buoyant I feel. I trip multiple times, my heels snagging in the gaps between the wooden boardwalk that leads to oursecluded cabin. The third time it happens, Odin takes my hand and slides it into the crook of his elbow.

I raise my brows at him. “Such a gentleman.”

“Don’t want you walking down the aisle with crutches,” he drawls.

When we reach the door, I lay out my hand, a silent demand for the keys. I’m doing it on purpose, teasing him, but I can’t help it when he’s so broody. He takes them from his pocket and slides them into my palm. I turn, looking for the lock. My fingers slip and the keys land at my feet. I bend to retrieve them from the ground so quickly I’m not thinking. But it’s too late. My ass comes into contact with Odin’s groin and he audibly groans behind me. My heart flip-flops at the frustrated sound. I right myself and fumble with the keys again, inserting them into the lock.

But I can’t turn it. I’m too distracted by what’s happening behind me.

Odin closes the gap between us, pressing his body to mine, caging me against the door. His hands come to my hips, fingers grasping for purchase. I hear him breathe deeply, inhaling my scent.

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