Page 2 of Things We Burn

There was a whole lot more going on.

A face, for starters.

One that was not polished nor tanned like the others in this room. It was olive-colored, though in a more natural way. He looked like he was Italian or Greek and spent hours in the sun. Weathered. Even from across the room, I could see creases on his face.

He had dark, glossy black hair that brushed his eyebrows. It was messy, tousled and long enough to communicate it was overdue for a cut. His nose was crooked. Like it had been broken and then never healed quite right.

There was a scar going through his lips, one that marred them just a little. Not enough to turn his attractive mouth intoa grimace. Nor did it obscure his ability to smile. Which he was doing right now.

Though you could call it more of a smirk.

A smirk that did things to my … lady bits.

They had been sorely neglected by members of the male sex. Things were dire if asmilewas doing it for me.

Although this was no regular smile. This dark-haired, rugged, square-jawed man was something else. And he definitely didn’t look like he belonged here at this party.

Most men were wearing collared shirts, if not expensive suits.

He was wearing a simple black tee and black jeans. Though he made them look like they were worth a million bucks. He had tattoos scattered up and down his arms and one crawling up his neck, if I wasn’t mistaken.

He was tall. Towering, one might say. I didn’t think a man’s height overly mattered to me before. But it did now.

He must’ve been over 6′, and he was full of corded muscle. Not bulky but defined. His biceps were stretching the sleeves of the tee he was wearing. And not because he was wearing a size too small either.

I would’ve liked a size smaller because then I would’ve seen the outline of the six-pack he most definitely had.

“Holy shit,” Kiera breathed from beside me. “That’s Kane ‘The Devil’ Rhodes.”

I reluctantly wrenched my gaze away from my man to look at where my best friend was gazing.

Except she was looking athim.

“You know him?” I asked, a little disappointed. I recognized the way she was looking at him, and I immediately felt a stab of aggression toward my best—and only—friend in the world. That did not make sense. For me to feel territorial over a man I didn’teven know, for me to feel disdain toward the one person on the planet I had that I didn’t outrank or was blood related to.

“Of course, I do,” she hissed, still staring, openly.

Kane ‘The Devil’ Rhodes still had his attention firmly in our direction. It felt like a game, a challenge, that unrelenting stare.

My gaze darted down to my glass. I did not shy away from eye contact, didn’t blink first in games of power moves. Until then.

“He’s only the biggest thing in extreme sports right now,” Kiera babbled, unaware of the turmoil swimming through my mind. “He just cleaned up at the Motocross Championships.”

Puzzled, my attention went to her. “Since when do you follow sports, extreme or otherwise?”

As much as I loved my friend, and I did, dearly, she was not someone who had varied and eclectic interests. She loved parties, expensive shoes, going to the spa and steamy romance books. Not that there was anything wrong with those things.

In fact, she had a lot more going for her compared to me who didn’t haveanyinterests. Beyond my job, though more than one person—people I’d dated—had called it an obsession.

Sad, really.

“You do not have to follow sports to know who Kane ‘The Devil’ Rhodes is,” she scoffed, as if it were obvious.

“Why are you calling him by his full name?” I asked, genuinely confused. “And what is with ‘The Devil.’” I air quoted. “It sounds like the name of some Disney channel character in a teen sitcom.”

Kiera rolled her eyes then glared at me. “If you actually lived outside of that small, steaming kitchen you cage yourself in, you would know that he’s kind of a celebrity in all spheres. On account of him being fucking hot and a total badass. He’s dated countless models and actresses, and he is literallyfearless. He has medals and awards in like three different extreme sports. He competed in the winter Olympics after breaking his arm in thequalifiers and brought home the silver. Brings new meaning to the term ‘daredevil.’”

“You sound like you’re reporting for an entertainment channel,” I told her, failing to be impressed. I’d met many people who were famous, talented and world renowned in their field. More often than not, they were obnoxious assholes. You had to be in order to get to the top.

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