Page 77 of Burn

The word echoes through my chest, and I drain the champagne in one gulp. Adrian’s hand slides across my back, urging me up. I push myself to my feet, allowing him to pull me into his body. His jacket slips off my shoulders, and Navaeh’s attention turns back to me as she scans my now visible, entirely tattooed arms.

“She goes by Lex,” he says calmly, holding me tightly. “But I think you knew that.” Navaeh’s eyes widen as he speaks, staring directly into her eyes. “And I think if you’re not careful, you’ll choke on whatever false sweetness you’ve got in your mouth.” Even in the low light, I see her cheeks flush, and her brows pinch together. “Now, what was your name?” She opens her mouth to respond, but he doesn’t let her. “Doesn’t matter. Run along.” Her mouth hangs open as he lifts his hand and, with a lazy flick of his wrist, dismisses her.

She blinks, as if the motion released her from some spell, and she slowly turns and walks back to her table. I stare at Adrian in awe.

“Adrian.” I’m breathy, airy, and the glass of champagne is already coursing through me, warming my body.

“She’s a bitch, Lex,” he says simply, gesturing toward my seat.

He drops into his seat, grabs his fork, and stabs at his salad. He’s mid-chew when he realizes I’m still staring at him in complete shock. He slowly turns to face me, and when he sees the huge shit-eating grin on my face, his chest shakes in a silent laugh. “So easy to impress.” His focus drops to my untouched food, and he adds, “Eat, or you’re not gonna last for cake.”

Another plate of food is set in front of us, and a waiter fills my wine glass. I grab it, smiling into it, captivated by this new version of Adrian. I pick at my food, pretending to eat, as the speeches drone on in the background. Now and then, his eyes shift to me, and he smiles. The warm, fuzzy feeling amplifies, but I’m not convinced it’s from the alcohol. It might be a contact high from the energy radiating off the man beside me.

When he’s not focused on his food — or me — his gaze keeps drifting to the head table. Dinner is wrapping up when I finally joke, “You want me to see if they’re single, or?”

He snorts, “Who?”

“Whoever you’ve been eye-fucking for the last forty-five minutes. I can be a great wingman.”

He’s devilish, and he edges with curiosity when he says, “I think I know Charlie’s cousin.”

“You should go say ‘hi’,” I encourage.

My body feels heavy and sleepy from the champagne and wine. He studies me, eyes slightly narrowed. “You gonna be okay for a minute?”

It’s my turn to shake my head and roll my eyes. “I think I can manage. Go.”

He stands, eyes on the head table. “Okay.” His hand trails up my arm, across my collarbone, settling on my neck. I look up at him, and he dips down to kiss me. It’s sweet, brief, and his lips move against mine as he says, “Back soon. Don’t go anywhere.”

I watch him cross the dance floor, nervously scrubbing his hands through his buzzed short hair. Charlie and his best man smile as he approaches, and I can see the recognition on his cousin’s face as he stands and rounds the table, shaking Adrian’s hand. Adrian’s expression is unreadable, and I force my attention away, trying to give them privacy.

I’m buzzed, and should probably slow down, but when I see him walking across the room from the bar, a glass of champagne in one hand, and a tumble of amber liquid in the other, I turn, searching for something to drink. Anything. Because this can’t be real life. In all my hours spent dreading the people I’d see this weekend, never in a million years did I anticipate seeing Aaron fucking Turner walking straight for me with a massive smile on his face.

I’m frozen in place as he sinks into Adrian’s seat, his knee brushing mine. Images flash through my mind, like glimpses of a horror movie. His hand silencing me, rough lunches on my breasts, the way his mouth tasted like peppermint and cigarettes. He sets the champagne in front of me and leans onto his arms, putting his face inches from mine. I lean back, suddenly I’m back in the science lab, trying to escape him.

“Morgan,” his voice is so rough, like he never gave up smoking. “You’re a sight for sore eyes.” His smile is cat-like. Wide, with too many teeth. My pulse pounds in my ears, and I glance toward Adrian, still engrossed in dialogue with Charlie and his cousin. “Come on, now,” Aaron says, returning my attention to him. “We’re adults. That was so long ago. Can we let bygones be bygones?”

Bygones?

He attacked me.

Don’t provoke him.

My thoughts war with each other. The need to defend the terrified teenager, trapped under him in the school washroom, is at odds with the need to placate him to maintain the peace until Adrian returns. I don’t fight. I don’t flee.

I freeze and slowly nod my head. It’s not forgiveness, it’sself-preservation.

“Good,” he says, lifting his glass to his lips, swallowing a large mouthful. “You look,” his eyes drag over my body, and my stomach lurches. “You look good, Morgan.” His hand shoots up, and I flinch. “Easy, girl.” He doesn’t pull back, trailing his fingers across the tattoos on my arm. Goosebumps erupt over my skin, and his grin stretches wide, putting his sharp, long canines on full display. “You always were so responsive.” It’s a low, menacing sound, intended only for me to hear. My fingernails cut into my palms, and pain fires through my nerve endings.

“Aaron,” I whisper, barely able to make out the sound of my voice over the pounding in my chest.

“Yeah, baby,” he breathes. “Say my name again.”

“Aaron.” The voice isn’t mine. It’s strong, deep, and full of murder.

Adrian’s nostrils flare as he glares down, his fists clenched so tight that his knuckles are white and the veins in his hands pop more than usual. Aaron’s eyes are still on me. I can feel them like red-hot pokers searing into my skin. His forearm rests on the back of my chair, his hand on my arm, slowly swiping up and down.

I plead with my eyes. Beg Adrian to understand how desperately I need Aaron away from me, but his eyes aren’t on me. They’re glued to Aaron, and the warmth I lost myself in earlier is gone. They’re dark, so dark.

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