Page 48 of Your Echo
I make a soft sound against his skin. He presses his thumb against my mouth, like he’s telling me to hush.
“Here’s the thing, though: if you want a flame to go out, you don’t wrap it up in paper. When you do that, you’re just giving it something to burn. I think that’s what you’re afraid of; you’ve made this little life for yourself, and you spend every waking minute terrified that you’re going to send it all up in smoke.”
“So what I do?” I whisper, entranced.
He trails his thumb down from my lips to my neck.
“Find something youcanburn. Don’t be afraid of your fire.”
I grab his hand and pry his fingers open, then move them so they’re wrapped around my throat.
I want to tell him that I know he’s not the best person to be giving this kind of advice. I want to tell him that I know I shouldn’t trust his words, or the flare of my pulse, or the heat of a summer night. I’ve never found anyone who understands this part of me, though, and right now Ace’s whole face is blazing with same kind of fire he says he can see in me: a little dangerous, and so,sofucking beautiful.
“Tonight,” is all I can rasp out. “Now.”
I feel his fingers twitch.
“Are you sure?” he asks. “Are you sure you want this? With me?”
“Tellement.”
So much.
His hand squeezes hard enough to make me gasp, and then his mouth is on mine.
