Page 8 of Without a Trace
“Drink,” Rhett said, handing me a red cup I didn’t ask for.
“I already have one.”
“Cool. Now you have two.” Rhett said, flashing that easy smile as he dropped beside me, one leg stretched out like he owned the firelight. I took it. Because bad decisions taste better when someone else hands them to you.
I gave him a lazy smirk, took a sip, and instantly regretted it. Tequila.Fuck.
Alden settled down on the other side of me. “You probably shouldn’t drink both of those, Love.”
“Then don’t watch me,” I said, my voice a little too loose.
He looked at the fire and shook his head like it would magically reveal something.
I took another long sip. Felt the heat coat my chest, curl under my ribs. Felt the edge of myself fray.
Across the fire, Trace sat hunched forward, bottle dangling from one hand, the other tracing circles in the ash with a stick. His tattoos flickered in and out of the flames' glow—dark shapes that looked alive in the heat. He wasn’t watching me. Not directly, anyway. Just… tracking every breath I took, like I was about to do something reckless. And maybe I was. He looked like someone I should run from. Hell, they all did. But I never had. I should’ve turned around the second I saw him. Walked away. Saved myself. But I didn’t.
Couldn’t.
There was something about him that made me want to look twice—and maybe lie about it later. And I was still looking, still staring.
I looked away too fast.
Alden’s knee brushed mine. “You okay, Love?”
“No,” I said honestly. “But at least I look good doing it.”
He huffed a laugh. “You always do.”
I turned to face him, a little too fast, a little too close. My shoulder brushed his. His breath caught, and I could feel the shift. Tequila making my tongue bold.
“Were you ever gonna tell me?” I asked.
“Tell you what?”
“That you wanted me.”
He blinked, and his fingers flexed where they rested in the sand. But he didn’t deny it.
“TRUTH OR DARE, BITCHES.” Kane yelled, launching a marshmallow into the fire like it was a grenade and everyone groaned.
“Don’t be cowards,” he said. “It’s tradition.”
“You just want an excuse to get naked,” Sloane shot back.
“Let the man live,” Rhett added. “He peaked in high school.”
“I’ll go first,” I said, raising my cup.
“Scarlett, no,” Lena hissed.
“Truth,” I declared.
Kane grinned like a devil. “Do you still think about him?”
The air sucked out of the circle.
I stared. “Define ‘him.’”
