Page 39 of Burn With Me

Oh, she should be concerned. She should be hella concerned, because she’s right to worry. I’m not thinking straight tonight. I haven’t been thinking straight since my mother walked in and wrecked my life all over again. Not since Isaac showed up and made it his personal mission to disrupt everything that was left over after her announcement. Just for a little while, I want to pretend like none of that exists. And that desire is something that could get me in some serious trouble. But that’s something I’ll worry about later.

“Tonight’s not about worrying,” I say, and I know I’m not just talking to her—I’m talking to myself as well. “Tonight’s just for fun.”

She grins and reaches for her shot of tequila, putting the glass to her lips and throwing her head back in true party-girl fashion. Once that’s gone, she grabs her drink and the two of us head up to one of the higher levels with only one thing on my mind—more booze and some relaxation.

18

ISAAC

Labyrinthis Paris’ baby. The fruits of several months of labor and money that he’s worked on finding investors for. Damn near completely separate from his parents’ money and almost completely his own. Full of debauchery and sin, it resembles an actual labyrinth. Everything inside is a mix of modern and ancient architecture and art. Only the ground floor makes any sort of sense. It’s almost like a trick to make those who come in thinking that they can handle what comes afterwards.

The upper floors are where the real fun begins, and tonight is its official reveal.

A familiar face joins Paris and me in the owner’s personal garden lounge on the topmost floor. “Congrats, man,” Shep says as a waitress drops off our drinks and disappears into the background.

“Thanks.” Paris is grinning from ear to ear with a doe-eyed girl on either side of him. One already has her mouth latched onto his throat while the other is fiddling with the many piercings that line his ear on the opposite side. Before the end of the night, I suspect he'll have them whisked away to some private room where he’ll make all of their ‘fuck the owner’ dreams come true. Many men would kill to be him.

I turn and look over the rail to the ground floor below. “It’s a beautiful club,” I comment. “You did good, man.”

“I didn’t really do much in regards to the layout,” Paris admits. “The architect I hired suggested it and I think he fucking killed the design.”

He did. This place is like no other. Even I feel like a god among men as I sit up here, looking down upon the mortal realm. One of the lights overhead shines across the raised dance floor below and a familiar head of sunshine-colored hair catches my attention.

“Fuck.” I sit up straighter. There’s no fucking way—but itisher. There’s no mistaking that hair. Or those hips as they swivel back and forth in time with the rhythm of the music. Bass jumps through invisible speakers in the walls, her body moving with it.

Everything around me fades as I focus on her. I shouldn’t be fucking doing this to myself, but I can’t seem to help it. Even the sore spots still lingering beneath my clothes where my bruises haven’t completely healed can’t keep my mind from straying to her. She’s in my head. In my fucking thoughts, every hour of the day, seven days a week. No amount of punches or broken ribs can halt all thoughts about Aurora Summers and how much I should not want her.

“—fucking hell, man? Isaac!” I jerk and turn back to Shep and Paris.

“What?” I scan the area, looking for a reason for their sudden volume.

“What do you mean what?” Paris demands as he gets up from his seat and joins me alongside the back of the lounge couch I’m sitting on where it’s shoved up against the railing. “What’s going on with you?” His head turns and he follows my earlier attention." “You’re—oh, I see.” He turns back to me with a knowing look. “Still can’t stop, huh? Thinking about getting revenge for that little stunt she pulled?”

Shep frowns but doesn’t say anything. If he were to be the one to make a decision, I know what he’d say—stay away.

After that last meeting with my father, and the subsequent hospital visit, I was in agreement. Being away from her for over a week has been easier. In class, I’ve managed to keep from meeting her curious gaze. Outside of class, I’ve done my damnedest to know where she is and where I willnotbe at all times.

Seeing her like this, though, is temptation itself. Against my better judgment, I let my gaze drift back to the woman who has haunted me for the last several weeks. She’s all done up tonight. The short, glittery dress makes her legs appear miles long. She moves well, even in sky-high heels. Her long hair is pulled up and back, showing off her bare shoulders and upper back.

My insides tighten when I watch an unknown guy move in on her where she’s dancing with her friend—the model-actress. My thoughts darken as I watch his hand land on her waist, and a split second later, she jerks and turns. Her features grow tight and she turns her cheek, shaking her head. I can’t hear her from all the way up here, but I can just imagine the rejection she’s giving him. It almost makes me feel better. Almost.

That is—maybe it would’ve if the guy didn’t obviously ignore her and place both of his hands back on her waist. I don’t know what the mother fucker is saying either, but from the sour expression that takes over her face, I’m sure it’s something disgustingly vile. Likely rejecting her rejection. I stand suddenly, unable to take it a second longer.

“Where are you going?” Shep demands.

I ignore him. “I’ll be back,” I tell Paris.

Paris arches a brow. “Don’t hurry on our account.”

“Are you fucking serious right now?” Shep looks between him and me before focusing his attention on our friend. “You’re really cool with him going after her?”

Paris shrugs. “Once he fucks her for real, she’ll be out of his system,” he says.

“Yeah, maybe,” I say, nodding, but deep down, I doubt it’ll be that easy. I’ve wanted women before. I’ve done whatever it took to get them in my bed. I’ve felt both the relief of my lust and the thrill of winning a game of chase. Aurora isn’t exactly running from me. She’s not hiding. She’s not backing down.

This is different. I know what it feels like to be interested enough in a woman to need to fuck her out of my system, and this isn’t it. This is something more. Something dangerous. Despite knowing that, though, I don’t let the guys in on my thoughts.

Shep’s mouth curves into a scowl, but he sits back. “Fine,” he snaps. “Do what you need to do then. Fuck up your own life. See if I give a shit.”