Page 17 of Rivals
“Why did you light it on fire?” I ask her, point blank.
Her chin lifts as she looks me in the eye, leaning into my grasp. “I didn’t do it.”
“Why should I believe you? You sabotaged my painting. Who is to say that you wouldn’t do it again?” I put my fingers over her pulse, and it’s racing beneath her soft skin.
She scoffs. “Nothing I say is going to convince you. I didn’t light a painting on fire while I was still in the building with a bunch of other people, might I add. So why bother trying?” Her hands go to my chest, trying to push me away, but I’m an immovable rock compared to her small frame. Her chest heaves from the anger pouring out of her. Her eyes bounce around my face, from my eyes to my lips to her hands on my chest.
A roaring builds in my ears. “You’re right. Idon’ttrust you.”
Her hands drop from my body, and I question myself. Maybe she is telling me the truth.
“Why would you sabotage me again?” I ask her.
“I didn’t sabotage you, Lachlan! Don’t forget I’m as much on the hook for this as you are. If I fail, then I could get kicked out, and the years I spent killing myself will be for nothing. I can’t let this be for nothing!”
Her eyes go glassy. I can’t tell if the high is wearing off and she’s extra emotional or if this is how she genuinely feels. “For the record, I don’t trust you either,” she says, glaring daggers at me.
I bite my lip because my heart hurts looking at her like this. I hate that I feel any kind of compassion for the woman who got us into this mess. She looks like she already lost. I told her we wouldn’t lose. We would make it into the MoMA. Failure is not an option for me.
I know she wants this, too. She wants to be in the world-renowned museum that will inevitably make both of our careers. Blood pumps so hard in my ears that the rushing sound is almost disorienting. Revna catches me by surprise and pushes me again. I wasn’t ready for it, so I released her to catch myself.
“Don’t touch me again,” she commands. I growl and charge her. Her eyes widen and she takes another step back against the wall. She glances at the door and then back at me. I can see the indecision, wondering if she can make it there in time before I catch her. I don’t know what I would do, but I also know I don’t want her to walk out the door. My hand isn’t clasped around her neck, but we are close enough I could grab her in a second.
My nostrils flare, and I slam my hands on the brick beside her head, caging her in. She freezes, and a blip of fear flashes in her eyes before she buries it. “Let’s get one thing clear, Revna. I know what you did. I own you, and you go when I say you can go. Do you understand me?”
“Screw you, asshole.”
“You wish,” I mutter back.
She laughs sarcastically, those pretty dusty pink lips tipped up in mock amusement. I stare at them more and notice the hint of red within them. It’s a mesmerizing color. Their shade is unique, and I suddenly want to taste it, to see how that color feels. I want to know if it tastes like the pinks of a sunset that illuminates the city around it, making it not feel so daunting and suffocating. This room is suffocating. My lungs heave for breath, and the pressure builds in my chest. Revna’s skin flushes where I can see it; our eyes have locked together, and her lips part in a light pant.
I know my body wants to do the one thing I wish it didn’t. She’s so close. Her glare makes me want to see what it takes to turn it into a smile or maybe a gasp of pleasure. I trail my eyes between her dark depths and her lips. I curse in my head before I crash my lips against hers.
She bites my lip, and I groan. The pain urges me on instead of pushing me away. I grab her wrists and hold her hands against my chest. She leans into the kiss as a light moan bubbles from her, and it makes me want her more. I take her surrender and inhale it. Our tongues slide against each other’s and her fingers grip onto my shirt, pulling me closer.
My body screams for air, and I reluctantly pull away from her. I look down at her lips that taste like I thought they would. Sunshine. Her eyes are still closed, and she leans back against the brick wall.
I rendered my little bird speechless. Then her eyes spring open, and they drop into a glare. She pushes me, and I let her think she won, taking a step back. “Get away from me, Lachlan,” she says, but not with the same bite she had before.
I skip over that and level her with a stare. “You need to tell me the truth, Revna. Why did you do it?”
“I am telling you the truth, Lachlan!”
“Then how the hell did the painting catch on fire?!”
“Maybe it was the hot plate,” Revna says, throwing her hands up and sliding past me.
“I’ve had that hot plate forever. It has never once done that, and it’s not like watercolors or wet acrylic are flammable like oil can be.”
I glance at the burnt remains of our painting and want to punch the wall. “Look, Lachlan, I don’t know what’s going on, but I don’t think we should be—“
“No,” I interrupt her.
“Yeah, ok, you can throw a tantrum, but I’m going to go.” I watch her grab her bag, throw it over her shoulder, and hurry for the door. My stomach lurches, and I chase after her right as she puts her hand on the handle. I slam the door closed, and she stays still, staring at the wood.
“I told you, Revna, you aren’t going anywhere. We have to make something else, so get comfortable. This is going to be a long night.”
“Why bother? There’s no way we can come up with something else in this short amount of time, and I’m not so sure we should,” she says, glancing at the aftermath behind me.
