Page 60 of Burning Embers

As if he can feel my eyes on him, the scowl on his face deepens even further, and his hands clench into fists on his lap. He holds himself perfectly still on the stool, almost rigid, his gaze fixed to the front of the classroom, where the teacher sits at her desk.

I want to introduce myself to him, but something about Reid…scares me. He’s just so much bigger than me, and there’s a sort of predatory intensity to his cold eyes that siphons the breath straight from my lungs. Ethan, Emery, and even Ashton radiate a welcoming countenance. Ethan’s is warm, Emery’s is playful, and Ashton’s is authoritative.

But Reid?

Every muscle in my body locks together, urging me to run.

Run fast and run far, and never, ever look back.

The teacher finally begins her lecture, and I gratefully force my gaze off of Reid.

One of the girls in front of me dramatically plugs her nose, and her friends begin to giggle. I can practically feel Reid stiffenbeside me, though he doesn’t say a word. I wish I had laser vision capable of slicing through that girl’s head. I narrow my eyes into slits, but of course, with her back towards me, she doesn’t notice my ire.

Still, at leastIfeel better. A little less…stabby.

Mrs. Appleton drones on and on about shading before finally releasing us to grab supplies and try out what we learned.

I already know I’m going to fail this class. I can’t draw a stick figure to save my life, let alone paint the way Mrs. Appleton can. Yet this school requires every student to take one art class, and it was either this or choir.

I’m not in the mood for anyone’s ears to bleed, thank you very much.

The way the classroom is set up, there are two easels situated close together with a single table between them. An assortment of art supplies rests on the table—paintbrushes, paint, and a container of water. I also see some pastels, colored pencils, and other equipment I’ve never heard of or used before.

I reach for one of the paintbrushes at the same time Reid does.

Our hands meet.

Zings of electricity dance across my skin, and I instantly pull my hand away, stunned. Did I just get electrocuted? What the hell?

Reid misinterprets my hasty retreat and quickly looks away from me, muttering a noncommittal, gruff apology under his breath.

If I thought Ashton’s voice was low, that’s nothing compared to Reid’s deep tenor. I suppose it’s fitting. A manthatlarge would most definitely not have a high-pitched, cutesy voice.

Unbidden, my mind conjures up images of Reid talking like a valley girl, and a tiny smirk curves up my lips.

Once again, Reid must interpret my smile as something more malicious and diabolical than it truly is. He inches his stool away from me as far as he’s able to and focuses on his blank canvas. His jaw is clenched so tightly, I’ll be surprised if he doesn’t break a tooth.

Fuck, I’m being so rude. Unintentionally too.

What did Ethan say earlier? Something about not judging Reid by his appearance?

I shift uncomfortably on the tiny stool, take a deep breath—inwardly cringing when I inhale his body odor—and then force a smile on my face. I swivel on my stool so I can face him completely.

“Hi. My name’s Izzy. And you’re Reid, right?”

The giant man freezes, his hand tightening around his paintbrush, before he pivots slightly to face me. One of his eyebrows quirks in what appears to be disbelief. A strand of his greasy hair falls in front of his face, and he flicks it away with irritation.

“Yeah,” he grunts out.

That’s it. Nothing else.

Okaaaay, then.

He turns back towards his painting, effectively dismissing me, but for some reason, I don’t want the conversation to end. Maybe it’s because I’m a stubborn bitch on the best of days, but I hate the way he just banished me like an annoying stray dog begging for pets.

I try to keep my face friendly as I focus back on my own easel. I grab my paintbrush and dip it in the orange blob of paint. I have no idea what I’m going to paint—probably a sunset or some shit—but I find that I need to keep moving. The reckless energy skittering just beneath my skin doesn’t allow for anything else.

“I met your friends today,” I begin casually. “Ethan, Emery, and Ashton, right?”

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