Page 7 of Torched

“Okay, just one, then,” I try. “What’s your name?”

As she stares at me, the golden specks around her irises remind me of fireflies in the dark night. I bet they’d show some green on a hot summer day, and a strong urge to want to experience her gaze in every season overwhelms me. The tension between us becomes palpable the longer our eyes stay connected. Something in this girl enchants me, like she has the actual possibility to put a spell on me and make me submit to whatever makes her happy. It’s dangerous as hell, but I can’t look away for the life of me.

“I think I’m going to keep that one for myself for a little while longer,” she ultimately says, then twists her chin back to where her hands are nursing her glass.

“You’re going to make me work for it?”

“Who says there is anything to work for?” I can hear the judgment etching through, like she has more than just herself to consider, and my heart drops to my stomach, giving me a weird sensation I’ve never experienced before.

“Ouch, is this the part where you’re going to tell me that someone already beat me to it and that you’re married with a bunch of kids?”

“You want to get married, Liam?” I ignore the avoidance of my question, simply because I’m scared she will cut this conversation short. And if I’m honest, other than business meetings, I haven’t had an interesting conversation in weeks. She’s keeping me on my toes without even trying, and fuck me, I seem to be thoroughly enjoying it.

“Someday, yes.” Kane keeps telling me I need to put it out of my head. That there is no room for a family in our line of work. I know he’s right, but that doesn’t mean it’s what I want. I had dreams of becoming rich and powerful, just like Kane and I had planned, but unlike my little brother, I also had the desire to one day start a family of my own.

“Kids?” she adds.

“Yes.” I’m a little stunned by my own honesty, but it feels good to tell someone. To not hide the fact that I want more than just an endless stream of money and the power it comes with.

“So, are you? Married?”Please say no.

She clears her throat, ignoring my question once more as she glances at her watch. My gaze follows hers, and I see it’s a vintage Rolex. I admire her taste. It’s classic and beautiful, like her.

“What I am, is late,” she informs me, sliding off the stool.

“For what?”

“My appointment.”

I cock my head at her with a challenge. “You’re bluffing.”

She smiles, putting on her jacket. “I came here to kill time because I have a meeting across the street.”

“Then why would you walk in here?”

She takes a step forward, vanilla now seeping deeper into my nose while bringing her mouth close to my ear. Close enough for her breath to fan the skin on my neck, and I swallow away my desire to turn my head and connect my lips with hers.

“Ever heard of hard to get, Liam?” she whispers, with an inkling of seduction this time. It’s tiny, barely audible, but more than enough to tighten the fabric between my legs. “Wouldn’t want to show them I’m all eager and willing to pay if I can also fake disinterest to give myself a better negotiating position.”

“You’re smart.” I pause, slowly twisting my neck to find her eyes again. “I still think you’re bluffing, though.” Her lips are only a few inches away now, the flowery tones of her perfume hitting my brain like ecstasy.

“Maybe I am. Maybe I’m not,” she taunts, then takes a step back as she tightens the cord of her jacket around her waist. “Thank you for the drink, Liam–?”

“Carrillo,” I share, regretting it the second I see her eyes show more white than the second before.

“Carrillo.” There is some recognition in the way she looks at me, but I can’t decipher if it’s just because it’s spoken all over like we’re one of the politicians ruling this city, or if it’s because she has more info than she lets on.

“Have a good night, Liam Carrillo.” She spins to walk away, but I jump from my stool, holding her back by her elbow.

“Wait. You really aren’t going to give me your name?”

“Maybe some other time.” I respect her for the indifferent stance she’s trying to keep, but I can see an interested woman from a mile away. She’s just as into me as I am her. All I have to do is convince her to meet again.

“Let me take you to dinner,” I offer, a hopeful glint boring into her eyes. But all I get is a coy smile, before she softly tugs her arm out of my grasp.

“Adios, LiamCarrillo.”

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