Page 55 of Pretty Little Lies

“Why?”

“Because, contrary toyourbelief, I’ve wanted you for years. You might think it’s just sex…but it’s so much more than that, Wildfire. You fit me. You get me. I like everything about you and even the parts that piss me off.”

“That’s sounding a little too obsessive for me.” However, there’s no fear in that statement nor can I find any way of disliking it right now.

I’m just scared of what his endgame is gonna be like.

“Might be,” Torin divulges. “But I guarantee I’d treat you better than your last.”

I can appreciate how he didn’t mention Wallace’s name in case it might upset me. And that only means he’s conscious of my feelings.

“Alright,” I reply slowly, trying to detect any evil doings in his eyes. “I can’t be out all night, though.”

“The Princess of South Shore have a curfew?”

I narrow my eyes. “Pretty Boy has jokes.”

“Some.” He pushes off the wall before gesturing for me to take the lead out of the restroom. “After you.”

I do.

With the heat of his eyes all over my ass.

EIGHTEEN

bay

The concert is litas all shit.

The bands are amazing, the undeniable hype intoxicating as people rock out, dancing and smoke outside this World War II looking bunker-dome that’s jammed packed with people.

Gray clouds linger ahead, making the purple, blue and green lights behind the stage misty and pretty. My ears have adjusted to the excessive volume, a coat of fresh sweat layering my skin and sticking to the fabric of my tight dress as I try to remember all the names of the bands that have already played so I can Spotify them later.

I’ve danced, smoked, drank, and made a friend with this really cute girl who sometimes comes out of the mob of fans to get another beer or cocktail. She’ll spend a song with me as we dance and grind before she goes back to her friends.

I’ve had too much Jack Daniels to care and a beautiful buzz that I soon need to shake so that I can drive home.

Torin and Cairo have been gone for God knows how long, but I’ve been preoccupied with my new concert friend, and Reeve has been letting me do whatever I want while keeping me within his constant sights. He’s is sitting along the edge of a small,bricked wall that leads to the concession stands as I randomly swing my hips in tandem to the drums or intermission music.

And then a delicate hand lands on my hip, and I instantly know whose coming up to see me again.

“Blondie,” I coo, using her simple nickname and slowly pivoting around, finding her pretty blue eyes already glimmering with mischief.

“Hey, girl,” she greets back. “Miss me?”

“Of course, I did.” I prop my arm over her shoulder. “Where’re your friends?”

She jerks a thumb behind her. “Flirting with some dudes with mohawks and, hopefully, big dicks. However,yourfriend is giving me the impression that he’s ready to shoot me or something.”

I fawn an easy chuckle, even though, it’s not outside his day job. The only thing that doesn’t get me to advise her to maybe go back to her friends is that Reeve isn’t one to show out and start waving a gun around.

“Is he your boyfriend?”

“No. Just a friend.”

Ish.

Blondie steps closer and begins rolling her hips, gluing her eyes to mine. “I think there’s more to that. I’m theorizing that he likes you.”

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