Page 43 of Burn for You

I never knew mugs could be so vital to one’s existence. Her eyebrows draw together.

“But anyway, they’re all gone now.” In the fire. “So I’ll have to make do with these.” She eyes my mugs like they’ve personally offended her, and I have to hold back a laugh, because this is not funny. Her precious mugs got lost in the flames. The flames that nearly took a lot more than those mugs.

She pulls out a packet from a cardboard box on the island that I hadn’t noticed was there.

“What’s that?” I ask.

“Hot chocolate.”

“Can I have one of those too?”

She looks up at me, surprised. I can’t blame her. This isn’t our usual dynamic, not that we really have a usual dynamic anymore.

“Sure,” she says. “Do you have any mini marshmallows?”

“No.”

She shakes her head. “You’ll have to be okay with mediocre then, it’s not the same without the mini marshmallows.”

I huff a small laugh out of my nose. “I think I’ll manage.”

She looks up at me again. The expression on her face unreadable before she rips open two packets and tips the powder into the two boring mugs.

I watch her as she takes them over to where the kettle is sitting. Watch her as she picks it up, pouring the boiling water into the boring mugs. Watch her as she triple checks that the stovetop is turned off, even though it has been since I walked over here. She grabs a little spoon and stirs in the mixture before shecarefully walks both mugs over to where I’m sitting and slowly slides one over to me.

“Thanks,” I say.

I almost think she’s about to smile, but she doesn’t.

“Sure,” she says quietly before taking a sip of hot chocolate.

I mirror her, taking a sip of mine, and we stay like this, in a rare moment of peace between us. It feels like we are speaking about everything that’s happened between us over the last few weeks without either of us even uttering a word. And when we’re done, I grab both of the boring mugs and put them in the dishwasher.

“I’m gonna go get ready for work.” She finally breaks the silence between us.

“Okay,” I say.

But she doesn’t move, not for a moment anyway. She stays there, almost like she wants this peace to last, even if it’s only for a second longer.

But then she goes, walking down the hall and shutting her door behind her. Leaving me in the silence, but for some reason, it feels less peaceful than it did before. And I don’t know what to do with that.

chapter seventeen

MAY

I pullmy bottom lip between my teeth as I flip the page. My toes curl in the bedsheets as I read line after line of smut.

It’s been a couple of weeks since the night that Rafael put a man ban over me, and the fact that I’ve not touched a man beneath their clothes in weeks is sending my horny hormones through the roof as I read about a grumpy sailor and a city girl getting down and dirty.

People will say it’s just words on paper, and it is, but reading is so much more than that. The fact that multiple people can read the same book, and it can look so different in both of their minds, makes me smile. Words on paper, yes, but words that can pull emotions from you like nothing else. And these are some filthy, filthy words, and they’re making me tingle all over.

The slow beat of the R&B music playing from my speaker is just adding to the atmosphere.

I slam my bookmark in between the pages and throw it to the end of the bed before I curl over the edge, searching for a box I know is hiding under the shadow of my mattress. I put it there the day I moved in, and I can barely believe I haven’t used it until now, but I forgot it was there.

I snatch the box from where I find it, pulling it out into the dimlight of my bedroom, courtesy of the lamp sitting on my bedside table.

I swear it shines as I pull it out of the box like it’s been waiting for this moment. I scramble back, leaning my head against the pillow and pulling the sheet over my lower body as I pull my long T-shirt up to my waist and flick my vibrator on.

---