Page 212 of Burn Bright
“You might want to let go of me,” I warn Ben, wiping the creases of my eyes while he uses the bottom of his shirt to dry my chin.
“Why?” he asks.
“I might just decay on you. I was becoming one with the couch before you showed up.”
“You weren’t doing a very good job.”
I snort out a surprised laugh. “What?” I squeak out.
His lips inch higher. “Yeah, you’re still a lot cuter than the couch, Fisher.” He pauses when he notices me wince atFisher.“I can stop using your last name?—”
“No,” I interject. “Please,pleasedon’t. I love my last name, and it’smine. He doesn’t get to take that from me.”
Light touches his blue eyes. “Okay, Fisher. And I’m not letting go of you. So I have to warn you, we will be decaying on this couch together.”
My heart swells so much, I’m shocked it’s not bursting out of my ribcage.I blink away more tears. “You make it impossible,” I realize.
“What impossible?”
“To rot away.” I hold his deepening gaze that reaches into me. He seems to be gripping onto my expression, his chest falling and rising in time with mine. “How long have you been the sun?”
He cups my cheek. “I’m not the sun.”
“You are, Ben. Life can’t wither and die when you’re around. Nothing can go cold. Out of an entire Empire of stars, you’re the brightest in the sky.”
He smiles a little.
“What?” I sit up higher on his lap, our faces closer.
“I just know something that you don’t, smarty-pants,” he says as his gaze strokes mine. “The sun isn’t the brightest star. It’s not even the hottest, but I still burn.” His thumb caresses my cheek. “Because I’m mad.Maddened for those I love. Maddened by their pain. Maddened by life. Your agony is my plight. Your torment, my war. Your love, my triumph. I don’t know how to dim when I love you, Harriet. I only know how to burn bright.”
49
HARRIET FISHER
Isprint across the grassy quad, taking every shortcut known to man. My bookbag thwacks my back, and I just think,I’m late, I’m late, I’m already late.I’d rather be fifteen minutes late to Professor Wellington’s oral exam than three minuteslate to meet Ben’s parents.
I am at least fifteen minutes tardy by this point. It’s one thing to be late meeting a boyfriend’s mom and dad—another thing for that mom and dad to betheRose Calloway and Connor Cobalt. Not only are they famous, they’re the types who’d arrive early to the freaking dentist. For unimportant routine events.
They probably think I’m lazy.
Or worse, that I don’t care about Ben enough to make a good first impression.
I can’t believe my Latin professor held me up in office hours. I was submitting extra credit in person, and he basically kept mehostagewhile he was chatting with another student. I wanted to go, but he kept saying, “Wait, give me a minute.” As though he had some important thing to share with me.
He simply wanted to say, “Job well done this semester.” Normally, I’d appreciate the pat on the back, but not today. NOT TODAY!!
I rush toward Loxley Hall, the largest and most ornate auditorium on campus. Used for guest lectures, research seminars, alumni gatherings, and things of that ilk.
To further emphasize Ben’s parents are so not normal—security guardsare posted outside the imposing arched double doors, and clusters of students loiter around the gargoyle turreted building with their phones at the ready, likely hoping to catch a glimpse of the legendary Rose and Connor when they exit.
I speed through the crowds, jogging up the stone steps, and as soon as I reach the door, a random security dude juts out a hand to stop me. These aren’t the Cobalts’ personal 24/7 bodyguards because they would, I’d hope, recognize me by now.
“Miss, are you a business student?”
Rose and Connor are here giving a guest lecture to business students only. The tickets apparently sold out within the first two minutes of hitting MVU’s website. But Ben said we could attend without them, and his parents know he’s introducing me afterward.
“I’m pre-med, but?—”
