Page 96 of Pretty Little Lies

“You should go claim your man, Wildfire. He’s been waiting for you all night.”

And speaking of feelings…

Torin’s deep octave licks up my spine and causes my body to still in tandem with his newly added presence. Everything about this boy makes me stand to attention. Those tawny gold eyes and those boyish features always make me fucking swoon like an idiot.

“I just got here,” I claim, taking another well-needed drink of my beer.

“I know.” He steps out in front of me, black-rimmed glasses resting on his nose and making him look sophisticated, smart, and fucking delicious in this nerdy,rip my clothes off right nowkinda way. “You’re hard to miss.”

Same.

I fail miserably at not taking in his body, finding the maroon tee that molds to his lean muscles, and I dare myself not to allow my eyes to drift any lower.

“You should’ve been here earlier,” he muses. “I had my shirt off.”

Slicing my focus back up to him, those golden ebbs of his get me all sorts of fucked up again. “I’m surprised you put it back on.”

“If I knew for sure that you were going to be here, I wouldn’t have. However, I’m not looking to get too much sun and die of skin cancer. I’m leaving the honors to you when you said you were going to off me.”

I roll my eyes and slip with a smirk. “You’re dramatic as fuck. You should go into acting.”

“I don’t like people telling me what to do.”

“Well, since you’re so good at telling other people what to do, you should be drilling it into Reeve’s head that I’m bad news.”

“That’s yet to be decided.” He shrugs slightly and steps forward. “You keep telling us you’re not part of The Nameless. That you’re not looking to dethrone me.” His chest brushes mine and my next inhale catches. “You wanna be treated with respect, remember?”

“Mhm…” He lifts a brow at my lack of answer, so I give him one. “I don’t completely buy it.”

“Which part?” He flicks his unfaltering gaze to my lips and my stomach flips. Especially when he holds it there. “The one where I’m trying to give you the benefit of the doubt to see if you fuck me over? Or the literal fucking you part? Let’s not forget that Reeve has a massive crush on you.”

“You’re playin’ me like one of your whores.”

“I technically don’t have any beef with South Shore, other than the fact that they tried to murder me when I was eight. Notice how I haven’t invaded your borders. That I haven’t kidnapped your ass and made you mine by force. It’s entered my mind a few times, but I’m not looking for more beef with Wallace.”

I stare at him, the nonchalant confession he just blurted out and said like it was nothing. “You wouldn’t?”

He cocks a brow. “Wouldn’t I, Wildfire? You obviously don’t know how deep my little obsession ran for you. C’mon, Bay…” His fingers cup my waist, and he drags me even closer. “Can’t you admit that you like me a little? That I make your heart race and you’re just secretly wanting to get underneath me?”

Yes.

“No.” The word isn’t hard to fake when I put him higher than Reeve and Cairo on thedo not touchlist. He’s the son of Emilio Wildes, the antagonist of my town, and the spawn of everything dangerous. Torin is no moron. He’s smart and calculated, andwhat he wants is information just like I do. We’ll be at a stalemate forever.

“Always thought you were a beautiful liar, Wildfire. But, we’ll keep playin’ it your way.” This time, he wraps his arm around my shoulders and guides me forward. “Let’s go see the birthday boy.”

I follow without a fight toward Reeve, whose lifted chin shows off his throat as he chugs down a beer, half-ass listening to whatever the blonde in front of him is jabbering about. His gaze slices our way, as if sensing my arrival, and that’s when he removes the bottle from his mouth and straightens his face. The smile that illuminates his features makes me mindlessly return it, and when he shifts his body to face mine, the blonde notices where his new attention lies.

“Bay Bay McQueen,” he coos, shaking his head and doing what he always does, appreciating my body with one smooth and lavish look. “You’ve officially made this the best day ever.”

The blonde’s face wrinkles in what I think to be an insult, but Reeve doesn’t notice.

I, on the other hand, can feel every petty, jealous, and pissed-off look sent my way.

“Happy Birthday, Reevie,” I reply, keeping my distance, because the last thing I want to do is break up Reeve’s party for an assault charge.

“Reevie?” the blonde blurts, propping her hand on the drawstring of her hot pink bikini bottom. “What is he, twelve?”

“Shut the fuck up, Betty No Tits,” Reeve drones, keeping his focus locked on me. “You can leave now.”

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