Page 83 of Stealing Embers

A soft click sounds to the right and I flop my head to the side. Ash, dressed for bed, fills the bathroom doorway. Warm steam trickles out from behind her, embracing her in a vanilla and coconut scented cloud.

Her body wash smells amazing—I may have used it a time or two. Fingers crossed she doesn’t mind.

It’s a moment before she looks up from rubbing the last bit of her peach-colored lotion into her arm. The pigment disappears, leaving a shimmery coating to her skin. I know when she spots me because her eyes flare. Rushing over, she plops down on my bed, making it bounce beneath us.

“Dinner was intense.”

I groan and snatch my pillow, ready to jam it over my head, when there’s a knock on the door. Ash and I trade a glance before she shrugs and jumps up to answer it. Her strides eat up the distance too soon and I smother my face into the bedding once again. I’m not in the mood to face anyone.

“What do you want?” Her voice sparks like flint. Ash may have been sympathetic to Steel last night, but after his little show in the cafeteria, she’s not having it.

I smile into the pillow. Atta girl.

“I’m here for Emberly. We need to talk.”

My jaw tightens and I have to order it to relax before I shove off the bed and cross to the open doorway.

“Yeah, we do,” I agree. It’s only been a few hours, but I’ve already had enough of this song and dance.

Grasping my bent arm beneath the elbow, he draws me into the hallway. “Let’s have a little alone time, shall we?”

“I think I’ve had enough alone time with you to last me a lifetime.”

Ash clears her throat behind me. Twisting, I see her standing with hands on hips, brows raised, a million questions written all over her face. I need to get this over with.

“I’ll be right back.”

“If you say so.” She retreats into our dorm room and gently—and slowly—shuts the door.

When the door clicks shut, I round on my nemesis, all geared up to lay into him. His long body is casually leaned against the wall, one shoulder propped against the hard surface and his feet crossed at the ankles.

His chin is tilted down as he flips a switchblade in his hand. His lids lift but not his head as he studies me from behind the fall of dark hair that curtains his eyes. One side of his mouth lifts in a sinful twist as I stand there, drinking him in.

Is there anything more attractive than a guy who knows he’s good-looking?

Wait, no—not attractive. Annoying. Anything moreannoying.

I stomp over to him. The sound of my sneakers slapping against the polished tile with each step smacks some sense into me.

My hands cut through the air even before words explode from my mouth. “This is not going to work.”

Flipping his blade closed, Steel tucks it in his pocket. “I need your class schedule.”

“What?”

“Your. Class. Schedule.” He enunciates each word. “And nice slip you just gave me, by the way. I’ll have to keep a closer eye on you.”

If he keeps any closer eye on me he’ll be watching me shower—and there’s no way I’m letting that happen.

I press my fingers into my eye sockets until I see bursts of white light. “I’m not giving you my class schedule.”

I hear him push off the wall and drop my hands from my face. He advances toward me, his movements feline in their fluidity. It makes me feel like prey.

Stopping with only a foot of space between us, he cocks his head and narrows his eyes.

“If you don’t give me your class schedule, I’ll make good on my threat to sleep in your room.”

Two sharp raps on the door behind me are followed by Ash yelling, “You won’t be sleeping in our room unless you don’t mind losing one of your dangly bits.”

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