“Why don’t we?” As the words fell out, I realized by the peculiar warmth in my chest that I actually meant them. I liked the idea of running away with James somewhere that only the stars could find us. “Let’s skip seeing my dad tomorrow and head South instead. I owe you a vacation anyway,” I humored.
His head stayed resting back, but finally, honey-kissed eyes flickered to me.
“Thought you were mad at me?”
A culpability was needled into his tone whether he meant it to be or not. His tells were blaring too, irksome remorse ringing around his black pupils.
“Why do you think I’m mad at you?” I questioned, tweaking my head.
His nostrils flared and his sullied golden eyes flashed back towards the roof. His bare chest widened as he inhaled deep, testing his lungs with the truth to see if they could handle it before breathing it out.
“Because we fought at the cafe or…” Water beaded and slipped down the grooved middle of his sternum as his broad chest lifted and fell with struggling air. His dark brows curved in and out, working deep lines into his forehead as he fought with himself. “The whole Demitri, Rebecca shit show.”
Popping bubbles tickling my palms as I glided my hands over the water. “You did lie to me.”
We were expressly watching each other now, cords thickening in James’ neck as he sawed his square jaw from side to side.
“It was my job to lie.”
“And you hate your job,” I countered with ease. “Just like you hate liars.”
His Adam’s apple bobbed repeatedly as we held eye contact, as if he was trying to swallow down fresh air but kept stuffing his lungs with filthy guilt instead. He hated the feeling.
In fact, I think it was a fair wager to say James Reyes hated all of his feelings.
Which was so sad since I thought they were so lovely.
“I’m sorry for it.” His arm broke through the surface, pouring water down his heavy forearm as he swiped a hand through his jet black hair, stealing his loaded stare away. He took that same hand and reached for the whiskey next. “I understand why you’re pissed.”
He sealed the mouth of the bottle to his, swinging back a few gulps like it was a race between him and his sobriety. He hadn’t had as much as I did on the way here. Safe driving and shit.
Thoughtfully watching him drink, I raked my teeth in concentrated distraction over the plush corner of my bottom lip.
“I’m not pissed, actually. Don’t really wanna spend tonight angry.”
The backs of his jaw pulsated as he forced the bottle away.
“Is that why you’re talking to me again?”
The ends of my mouth twitched. “Did you miss my commentary on the drive up?”
He grunted as if the idea was absurd.
“I was bored.”
I kicked back a scoff, eyes rolling. “Really? What’s the point of lying on our last night together? It’s not gonna kill you to admit that you like me.”
To that, a smolder so menacing it raised the baby hairs on the back of my neck slid over his face. He didn’t say anything. Just brandished me with a disagreeing look as hot as the water around us and then went back to drinking.
My liquor-lensed eyes traced along the jut of his stubborn jawline as he drank, wondering how the sharp edges would feel cutting against my palms if I were to grab his face between them.
If I were to do more than touch him.
The fire wasn’t bothering me so much now that I was drenched in boiling water, but it was still a whisper crawling beneath my skin I couldn't entirely forget. But James…
James made me forget it was there.
He commanded the fire to fucking stop so he could take its place, and it did. James possessed my body two nights ago in that hotel room. He became the thing that moved in my bloodstream and pumped my heart to one full beat… and he’d barely even touched me to do it.