Page 49 of Roaring Flames

Jake leans forward and mock-whispers, “Do you want me to kick his ass for you?” When Emery releases a sound that makes me wonder how the fuck I didn’t suspect he wasn’t human in the first place, Jake blanches. “I mean, do you want me to poke him with a sharp stick?”

“How did it go from kicking his ass to poking him with a sharp stick?” Dec asks, jamming a dozen french fries into his mouth at once.

“I might actually survive if I stab him with a stick and run away as fast as I can. There’s no way in hell I’ll survive an ass kicking.” Jake nods seriously, and I smother my grin with the back of my hand.

“You don’t have a lot of confidence in your abilities,” Dec muses.

“I have confidence…that I don’t want to die.” Jake wags his fork back and forth in the air and then narrows his eyes at Emery. “But I’ll stab the shit out of you with a stick if you so much as look at Izzy weirdly.”

“My hero,” I say dryly.

He grins and winks. “Always.”

“Izzy, please.”

Something in Emery’s voice causes me to turn once more to look up at him. And when I do… An indescribable emotion thunders through me. It feels as if I just swallowed fire, and it’s burning my throat.

His eyes are wild and desperate. I’ve never seen him so raw before, so open, so vulnerable. I suddenly feel lost, like a piece of driftwood on open seas, whipped around by unmerciful waves.

Why do I suddenly want to give in to him? Hear what he has to say?

Emery continues to stare at me pleadingly, unaware of the contortions my heart is putting my head through.

After a long moment of silence—the type that’s rife with tension—I blow out a breath and stand.

“Fine,” I hiss. “Let’s get this over with.”

Relief paints itself across Emery’s features, his eyes widening as he briefly bows his head. “Thanks?—”

“Don’t,” I warn him as I begin to move away from the table, leaving my backpack where it is. I’ll come back for it.

“Izzy.” Jake grabs my arm just before I can pass him, his touch surprisingly gentle despite the fierce glare he throws in Emery’s direction. “Are you sure about this?”

“Yeah. I’m sure.” I offer my foster brother a reassuring smile. “And if anything goes wrong, I know you’ll always be at my back with a huge stick.”

“The hugest,” he agrees instantly, then he frowns. “That sounded dirty.”

“Talking about your huge stick?”

He makes a face. “Ew. Stop it. I think I just vomited in my mouth a little.”

“Rude.”

“Izzy,” Emery says again, and I notice his eyes sharpen on Jake’s hand around my wrist. “Please.”

I give Jake’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze and then follow Emery out of the cafeteria. I don’t see Ethan, Ashton, Reid, or even Desiree. I have a brief moment of panic, wondering if they’re planning to all bombard me at once, but the classroom Emery leads me into is mercifully empty.

But also familiar.

“Seriously?” I spin around to face him and place my hands on my hips, watching as he flicks the lock into place. “Do you just bring all your conquests here?”

“What?” He stares at me in confusion, but then understanding dawns and horror splays across his face. “Of course not! Look…”

He runs a hand through his spiked blond hair as he begins to pace. I can’t help but notice he looks good. Real good. His hair is artfully tousled, giving him a “just got out of bed” look that drives most girls wild.

His features are beautiful, almost angelic, but paired with his tattoos and piercings, no one could ever mistake him as some godly being. His short-sleeved T-shirt clings to his muscular frame and emphasizes his biceps. His black jeans hug his hips in a way that should be fucking illegal.

Damn him.

---