Page 32 of Of Heartbreak and Harmony
The grin doesn’t leave his face as he shakes his head. “Didn’t think you were.”
“Do you always speak in fragments?”
My annoyance is clear as I look him over. My annoyanceandmy attraction. The fragments irritate me as much as they intrigue me. They fit the vibe he gives off. Like he’s too cool to waste words. Like too many would inhibit the mystery surrounding him, lifting the veil to reveal the man beneath. My curiosity about seeing that man is too great to ignore.
“I can speak in full sentences, if you prefer,” he says after a moment.
“I prefer.”
“How are you enjoying the show?”
I roll my eyes. “I’m missing the band I wanted to see actually. Are you done?”
“You can go back if you want to. You don’t have to stay here with me.”
The last two words—with me—are like railroad spikes drilling my feet into the ground. I don’t care about the band. I don’t care about anything except staying right here with Torren King.
When I don’t move, he does, closing the ten feet of space between us. He doesn’t speak. He just keeps his face trained on mine. It’s unnerving. Once again, I’m forced to look at my reflection in his mirrored sunglasses. My lipstick is dulled from the beers and greasy pizza. My eyeliner is smudged from the sweat. My hair is stuck to my neck. My red-feathered headpiece is still perfect, though, and my body glitter shimmers, drawing attention to my collarbone and cleavage, highlighting every inhale and exhale.
“Take off your sunglasses,” I tell him, and he doesn’t hesitate.
His long fingers remove the sunglasses slowly before hanging them on the collar of his shirt, and when he makes eye contact with me, myheart skips. Despite his dilated pupils, I can still see the glow of his irises. His eyes are sogreen. A different green than mine. Like emeralds instead of moss. Ethereal instead of earthy.
“Are you high?”
He tilts his head to the side. “Isn’t everyone?”
I don’t answer. I suppose everyone is. I’ve only had a few hits of a joint, but I’m definitely not sober.
“How are you here without swarms of adoring fans?”
He shrugs. “I don’t usually draw much attention on my own.”
I know what he’s implying. Sav is the one who comes with the media frenzy and the fan mobs. Torren is popular, sure, but he’s not the one people lose their minds over. Not most people, anyway. I might be a different story.
I should ask him about Sav. Ask where she is. Ask why he’s not with her. I should, but I don’t. I don’t ask for the same reason I didn’t correct him when he called Becket myfriend, and the thrill of being in Torren’s presence is enough to drown out any guilt I might feel from omitting the truth.
Sav and Torren are probably broken up...again. I saw the slap. I know the rumors about their relationship. As for Becket and me, we’re not dating. Not really. We make out. We fool around. We’re, in Becket’s own words,keeping it casual. Wewereprobably going to have sex for the first time tonight, but he’s not myboyfriend. I’m drilling that fact into my head when Torren speaks.
“You want to go back to my bus?”
“No.”
The answer comes out almost before he finishes the question, and he grins like he finds me entertaining. Almost like he expected my answer. He isn’t disappointed at all. I scowl.
“I’m not going anywhere alone with you.”
“You’re alone with me now.”
Any retort dies on my tongue, so I raise a challenging brow instead. He laughs, causing chills to skitter over my skin despite the heat, and then he shakes his head.
“I’m kidding. I just don’t want to push my luck with the crowd. I want to get to know you without the threat of fanfare.”
I open my mouth once more, to say I don’t even know what, whenmy phone buzzes in my back pocket. I pull it out and look down at the screen.
Beck
Where you at? I’m in the beer line.
