Page 12 of Burning Daylight
“Sure thing, Princess.”
Something flashes in the distance, quick but undeniable. I spin toward it, squinting, but don’t see anything.
Still, I’ve lived here long enough to know better than to stick around. What if it was one of those idiot paparazzi for theRag?
“You shouldn’t get too comfortable out here, you know.” I twist toward him.
“Too late,” he says, settling back with ease, his eyes perusing me. “I already like the view.”
I fidget, pretending like his words aren’t setting my nerves on fire. “Whatever. Bye, Trouble.”
He nods. “See you when you come back.”
“You’ll be waiting a while.”
“Guess I’ve got a lot of daylight to burn, then.”
“I don’t even know what that means.” I purse my lips. “But have fun with that.”
And then I force myself to turn around and walk away. If I don’t, I’m a little worried I’ll spend the whole night fake arguing with the guy.
Was this flirting? It felt like flirting.
“I guess you can thank me later!” he calls out to my back.
A smile breaks across my face.
Damnit.
My heart pounds all the way to my car, adrenaline pumping through my veins.
Who the hell was that?
When I’m back home, my pulse still thrums at the mere thought of him, so I pull out my notebook of stories and start to write.
The forest had no name; at least, not one spoken aloud. Travelers said it whispered secrets if you listened long enough, but it had never told her tales. She wasn’t expecting to find anyone there, least of all him. The rogue on the rock, inked in runes she couldn’t read, with eyes like an ocean and a grin that could unravel kingdoms.
He called her Princess with a mocking bow, as if he already knew how the story of them would end.
She told herself he was cursed. Or maybe a thief. But regardless, she found herself wanting to know him.
I don’t go back to Upside Down Rock the next day.
Or the next.
Ido, however, spend way too much time looking for trouble in an ocean of familiar faces.
But I don’t see him again.
3
JULIETTE
TWENTY-ONE YEARS OLD
My best friend since childhood and roommate for the past four years, Felicity, demands things; she doesn’t ask. So, when she says, “You’re coming out tonight,” for the thirteenth time in the past two hours, I know arguing with her is a lost cause.
I’ve tried that method and failed many times.
