Page 8 of Playing with Fyre

Oh fuck.

“You…uh…now?” My heart starts galloping. I’m pretty sure it’s a fucking mess in there. Underwear, dirty clothes. When last did I wash out the sink?

Shit, shit, shit!

“I just want to wash my hands,” he says, a crooked smile jumping onto his lips.

“Oh, I just use the kitchen sink. Water pressure is much better.” I stab a finger toward the basin. Not so much showing him where it is as demanding that he use it instead.

“That’s terrible,” he says through a laugh as he goes over to wash his hands. “Pressure that bad in the shower too?”

“Oh no, that’s fine. Maybe it’s from a different pipe or something.” Oh my God, the lies! How am I ever going to keep all this shit straight?

Fyre wipes his hands on a paper towel he tore off from the roll tossed haphazardly onto the counter, walking closer with a broad smile on his face.

It’s unreal how he fills my apartment. In the classroom, I never realized just how big he was. How tall, how broad-shouldered. But here? I feel like I’ve let a giant into my home.

He’s headed straight for me, which I guess is the closest route back to his seat after visiting the kitchen sink. But he stops a foot away, towering over me until I’m forced to crane back my head and look up.

At the sight of his expression, I shoot to my feet.

His eyes are narrowed, his jaw bunched. “Wait a second,” he says.

Oh fuck.

I want to step back, to keep away from him in case he lashes out at me. I don’t know why that’s suddenly a possibility, but the instant I think about it, I can’t get it out of my head.

“What?”

“Your file didn’t mention anything about claustrophobia.”

My heart hammers in my chest.

Fyre steps closer. His full mouth is set in a straight line. “Why are you lying to me, Charlotte?”

His earthy, woody scent envelops me. I’m sucked into his eyes like they’re whirlpools out on some midnight ocean.

Trapped.

My heart pounding in my chest.

But is it fear…or excitement?

He opens his mouth again, his expression becoming even sterner, and I do the only thing I can think of to stop him from interrogating me.

I kiss him.

I have to grab hold of his jacket and haul myself onto the tips of my toes to get it right, but I do it. I kiss Professor Fyre like my life depends on it. When Fyre wraps his arms around me and pulls me even closer, I can barely hold onto reality.

I’ve been dreaming about this moment forweeks,and it’s just how I imagined it.

Wild, and violent, and utterly intoxicating.

Chapter Five

Fyre

I’m thankful the rain has passed. Forecasts predict clear, chilly weather.

---