Page 73 of Burn

“Whatever. When are you guys back? Tell me I don’t need to come feed this fucking thing again.”

“Back late tomorrow. You’re off the hook.”

Ronan breathes a sigh of relief, and I hear the door to my apartment slam. “I hate you” is the last thing he says before hanging up. I set my phone down on the worn dresser next to me, shifting my attention to the closed bathroom door. A quick glance at my watch lets me know we’re dangerously close to being late.

“Hey, Lex,” I call. “You almost ready? We’re gonna be late.”

From behind the door, she sounds panicked, but not unhappy. “Almost!” I can imagine her rushing to put the finishing touches on her makeup.

I’m adjusting the cuffs of my shirt when the door creaks open. Her perfume hits me before I look up, blocking out the stale, old cigarette and mildew smell.

“Finally. I was about to call Blake and tell her she needs to push the start time an hour or —” I freeze, words dying on my tongue as my eyes land on her, standing in the doorway that separates the grungy motel room from the even grungier bathroom. “Whoa.”

My breath stalls, caught between disbelief and awe.

Her hair falls in soft waves, pinned back with small, intricate braids. Her makeup is light. There’s a soft blush on her cheeks that I think might be a result of my reaction to seeing her. The emerald-green dress flows from her shoulders, hugging her curves in the right places. The slit cuts so high up her thigh that the roses tattooed on her hip peek out.

She shifts, looking down at herself, then back to me. “Does it look okay?”

I clear my throat, pushing myself up and stepping closer. “Okay?” I ask, my gaze roaming her from head to toe. “No.”

“Oh,” she stammers. “I didn’t bring…”

I smile, “Not okay, Lex. You look… whoa…”

Words couldn’t possibly describe how she looks. Beautiful isn’t enough. Ethereal? Perfect? Nothing that comes to mind seems worthy of describing the woman before me.

“I suddenly feelveryunder-dressed.”

The pink on her cheeks deepens, confirming it’s not makeup. She steps closer, and I match it, bringing us nearly together. I glance toward her feet, and she’s wearing flat, strappy sandals. My gaze drags upward, taking in the swell of her perfect tits, emphasized by the golden chain that contains a round pendant. I reach out and swipe my thumb across thenecklace, and when she speaks, my focus lingers on her full, glossy lips.

“It’s an ouroboros. It symbolizes rebirth.” She nervously tries to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “Or something.”

The strand falls back in front of her face, so I reach out and secure it, letting my hand trail the slope of her jaw. I’m half-hard just looking at her, and when her eyes fall closed, and she leans into my touch — fuck. I take a step back, adjusting myself.

“We, uh, we need to not do this if we want to get out of here,” I laugh.

She reaches out, straightening my tie, her eyes focused anywhere but on my eyes.

“Thank you, Adrian,” she softly says.

“For?”

I haven’t done anything yet.

“For being simple with me, even for a couple of days.”

I can’t stop myself from stepping back to her and taking her face in my hands. Her lips part, and I lean in, pausing to quietly say, “A simple disaster,” then softly kissing her. She melts into me, and I drop one hand to the small of her back, pulling her close. I deepen the kiss, exploring her mouth with my tongue, tasting the sweet, minty toothpaste that lingers there. When she moans against me, I ease myself away. “We need to get outta this room, Lex. Otherwise, we’re not making the wedding, or the reception, or our flight tomorrow now that I think about it.”

She giggles and fuck me. That sound will be the end of me.

I lock the room’s door and watch her walk toward the stairs, her long dress trailing on the floor behind her.

On the filthy floor.

I jog the few steps to catch up and scoop her into my arms. She squeals another giggle and wraps her arms around my neck.Her fingers graze my scalp as I carry her down the stairs, past Sharon at the front desk, who watches us, her jaw on the floor, and out the door.

“I can walk,” she says, her face nuzzled into my neck.

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