Page 110 of Roaring Flames

His gruff voice falters over that one word, as if he hasn’t used it often—or at all. I can’t imagine he would have a need to.

Before everything went down with Michelle, he was the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen in my life. He probably had girls begging to follow him like besotted puppies. And then, when hechanged, he would just have to level an icy glare at someone, and they’ll immediately do his bidding.

But if he thinks he can tell me to jump, I’m going to respond with a “fuck you.” He can jump straight off a cliff for all I care.

Still, curiosity gets the better of me, and I find myself trailing along after him. “Um…did you need something?”

He scowls at nothing in particular. No…wait…not nothing. His gaze is latched on the disgusted face of a classmate of ours.

I glare at the kid as well, and he immediately looks away, his cheeks red.

“Need to talk.” Reid absently begins to pick at the skin on his arm, tugging at a pimple until it bleeds. He frowns down at it and then lowers his hand back to his side. “Come on.”

Reid wants to talk to me?

The cynical part of me wonders if he plans to take me to the middle of the woods and murder me, but that’s more Ashton’s MO. Reid seems more…straightforward. Like, if he wanted me dead, my brain would be splattered across the locker by now.

Not that I think Reid would ever hurt me.

There’s a lot I don’t know, but I am certain that none of the guys will harm me. Physically, at least. Mentally is a completely different matter.

I drove in with Ansel today now that he has his car back—the most awkward fifteen minutes of my life—but he has a student Council meeting for the next hour. I’d planned to just wait in the library and get homework done beforehand.

Apparently Reid has other plans.

I shoot a quick text to Ansel, letting him know I’m with Reid—though I don’t expect him to see it until after his meeting is over—and then quicken my pace, two of my steps equaling one of Reid’s. The man is a literal giant. I don’t know what the fuck he’s been eating, but it’s working for him. Must be all those Wheaties.

Reid stops in front of a sleek, black bike. I know absolutely nothing about motorcycles, but even motionless, this baby looks fast.

“You good to ride?” he grunts out, offering a helmet and jacket to me.

The jacket itself looks as if it can fit two of me.

I’ve never ridden a motorcycle before, but I can’t say I’m against it. Though…

“You’re not taking me somewhere to murder me, are you? I dismissed that idea before, but now, I’m not too sure.” I’m only half joking. Kind of. Sort of.

Reid stares at me as if he wishes to reach into my brain and pluck out what brain cells remain. I don’t know whether or not I should be offended or amused.

“Just get on.”

I roll my eyes but slip the jacket on. As expected, it swallows me whole. I have to roll the sleeves up multiple times just to have use of my hands.

Reid frowns down at me, then steps forward, reaches for the zipper, and tugs it up. His hand grazes my breast for a fraction of a second, and my breath hitches. His own body turns still. Something undefinable flares in his hazel eyes—the color more muddy than green today—and he takes a hasty step backwards.

“Sorry,” he murmurs.

Is he blushing?

No. It must be just a trick of the lighting.

I shake off the strange, lingering sensation and focus on what’s important. “Are you going to tell me where we’re going?”

His lips twitch but don’t form into a full-fledged smile. “You ask that now? After you’ve already agreed to go with me?”

I wave a hand in the air. “I think I’m a little bit insane, to be honest. But I…” After licking my suddenly dry lips, I confess, “I trust you.”

Shock widens his eyes, though that emotion is quickly chased away by something akin to awe. Then both of those emotions dissipate, replaced by his usual indifference.

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