Page 140 of Roaring Flames

The napkin isn’t as good as Christian’s thumb, but beggars can’t be choosers.

Desiree glances at her own plate with a crinkled nose and raised eyebrows. Hesitantly, she picks up a rib and takes a delicate bite out of the meat. I can’t help but snort at how ridiculous she looks.

Like every other time I’ve seen her, she looks meticulous, not a strand of hair out of place. She wears a white dress that grazes her knees and a dark cardigan overtop.

“Stop laughing at me!” Desiree huffs, though her tone holds no true annoyance. “This shit is hard to eat. I don’t want to spill.”

“At this rate, it’s going to take you five hours just to get through one rib.”

Desiree carefully sets her meat back down on her paper plate and swivels on the bench to face me completely.

The two of us sit at one of the picnic tables slightly away from the rest of the party. The air has grown considerably colder in the hours since I’ve arrived, and a soft breeze stirs my blonde curls.

Desiree glances at her plate and then refocuses on me, her eyes slightly misty.

“Do you hate me?” she asks, and the abruptness of the question takes me off guard.

I lean back slightly and say, “If I hated you, I wouldn’t be sitting here watching you attempt to eat ribs.”

Desiree makes a face. “These things are a menace to society. They shouldn’t be allowed to exist.”

“Agree to disagree. But back to the important issue… Why do you think I hate you?”

“Maybe because you’ve barely talked to me since you discovered I was supposed to mate with your guys?”

A blush settles in my cheeks. “They’re not my guys,” I mutter.

She ignores me. “I don’t want to mate them, Izzy. You have to understand that.” She glances down at her hands—the nails perfectly manicured and painted a cherry red—and whispers, “I’ve accepted that I’m a lone wolf. It’s my father who’s holding out hope for me.”

A tiny piece of my heart shatters at her confession. “Is there really no hope?”

I can’t help but think of Christin when I ask that question. If he’s fated to lose his mind to the wolf, then where does that leave us?

“There’s never been a case of a lone wolf remaining sane,” Desiree confesses, finally glancing up to spear me with a look. An understanding smile graces her face. “But that doesn’t mean it’s not possible. Stranger things have happened. I don’t know Christian well, but I know that he’s a fighter.”

Did she see my almost-kiss with him? Christian assured me that we didn’t need to be subtle, that no one here would care that he’s my vice principal and mate, but I can’t help but be worried. A thread of trepidation unfurls in my gut.

“How did you know…?” I blink at her in disbelief, but Desiree simply snorts and then grins.

“There’s a reason I brought you to him on your eighteenth birthday. I know he’s one of your mates.” A fierce expression twists her face as she glares at me. “And I would’ve told you sooner if you didn’t ignore me. You were supposed to be my friend, yet you allowed those big dickheads to get in the way.”

Shame fills me. “I know. I’m sorry. It was just…hard. I didn’t really know what to believe. I still don’t, if I’m being honest.”

“Let me cut to the chase for you.” Desiree turns completely to face me and jabs a finger at my chest. “I have never and will never have feelings for your men. I knew from the very first moment I touched them that they weren’t meant for me—that they’ll never be meant for me. But even if I didn’t know that, I wouldn’t have feelings for them. Ashton has the emotional capability of a robot, Reid scares the shit out of me, Emery makes me want to become a murderer, and Ethan… Well, I think I hate Ethan least of all.” She shrugs. “I just don’t find him attractive.”

How could she not find him attractive?

All of the guys are sexy as sin, even Ashton, as much as I hate to admit it.

Something occurs to me then.

“Desiree, do you not like…?” I trail off, unsure of how to ask the question without coming across as inconsiderate or rude. “Fuck. Sorry. It’s not my place to ask.”

Desiree chuckles. “I was wondering when you would ask me that.” The smile gradually fades from her face, her lipscompressing into a thin line. “I’m not gay, if that’s what you think. But I’m not entirely straight either.”

I remain silent, waiting for her to get her thoughts in order.

“For the longest time, I thought there was something wrong with me,” she confesses, brushing at a loose strand of hair. “I wasn’t sexually attracted to girls or guys. I mean, that can’t be normal, right? I thought maybe that would change with time. I hooked up with a guy here and there, and when that didn’t work, I started sleeping with girls. But I felt…nothing. I hated it, if I’m being honest.”

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