Page 58 of Heart of Thorns

“There,” he whispers raggedly. “Consider that practice.”

I think I need more practice.

I remain quiet because I’m at a loss for words. All I can manage is a quick nod.

“You good?” he asks, smirking. “Don’t tell me… that was the best kiss of your life?”

Thorne is dangerously hot. His smirk is inviting but cocky at the same time.

I try to cover my tracks. I scoff and busy myself with grabbing my bag. I peek over my shoulder at him and shrug. “It was okay.”

Thorne’s laugh echoes around the empty weight room. I hide my smile by keeping my back to him. My lips flatten together to keep from showing him all my cards. He reaches over my shoulder and snatches my bag from my grip but lingers for a second with his mouth hovering beside my ear.

“It’s going to be awfully entertaining getting you to admit that I’m the best you’ve ever had.”

Desire flies to the spot between my legs, and my nipples have entered the party.

Traitors.

Thorne steps away, and when I move to follow him, I swear he’s carrying himself more confidently after the kiss.

I won’t admit it out loud, but it’s warranted.

My mouth still feels branded.

Like it isn’t mine anymore.

Thorne’s face comes into view—those golden eyes that twinkle with amusement but also have a depth to them that puts my body on high alert. His hands on my hips and the way his smooth whisper sounds in my ear.God.

Frustration backs my every move.

I dump my bag onto my bed and begin gathering my sweaty clothes. I gulp the rest of my water bottle and push Thorne out of my head. Lydia comes home but I keep my door shut so I can have a few minutes to get myself together before having to act like Thorne isn’t taking over my mind.

Throwing my workout clothes into the bin in the corner of my room, I start clearing my bed off. I pause when I smell something… strange.

Is that gasoline?

My nose turns upward. I walk around the room sniffing the air like a dog after a bone. The closer I get to my desk, the stronger the scent is. My heartbeat pounds violently inside my ears.

I stare at a piece of notebook paper that’s soggy around the edges.

It isn’t mine.

I’m much too neat for something like this.

My hand is shaking. I reach for the note, and the closer I bring it to my face, the stronger the gasoline is.

What the hell?

My legs grow weak. I slip to the floor.

The note is lying in front of me. I read it until my vision blurs.

Stop looking.

Or you’ll be the one soaked in gasoline.

I don’t know how much time has passed, but when there’s a knock on my door, I move quickly. The note is buried underneath my bed, and I climb to my feet, ignoring my sore muscles.

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