Playing with Fire Read online L.J. Shen

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Angst, College, Contemporary, New Adult, Romance, Young Adult Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 124029 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 620(@200wpm)___ 496(@250wpm)___ 413(@300wpm)
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“Today didn’t suck.” His breath tickled my face.

I swallowed, losing my ability to speak. “No, it didn’t.” My lips moved a breath away from his.

“My birthdays usually suck,” he explained.

“Oh.”

I had officially stopped showing any signs of intelligence. I blamed his proximity. It made me drunker than the actual tequila.

“Texas,” he said again.

“Maine?” I shook with anticipation.

“Permission to do something really fucking stupid, yet acutely necessary right now?”

My heart flip-flopped in my chest. I wasn’t even sure what he was asking, but I was darn sure what my answer would be.

“Granted.”

“Happy birthday to me.” His mouth descended on mine in the pitch black.

Every cell in my body blossomed and sang. I arched my back, my mouth falling open to accommodate his tongue. The brush of his lips against mine sent a shiver down my spine, and I growled, the blood in my veins sweet and sticky.

West’s phone buzzed to life again. He pulled away quickly, breaking the trance we were in. He scrambled up to his feet, turning the light on, and I followed suit, gathering the discarded taco pieces as he turned his back to me and finally picked up the call.

“Yeah?” He sounded short of breath. Flustered. He was pacing now.

I busied myself, throwing the broken tacos into the trash, my eyes wandering discreetly to his jeans, detecting the outline of his erection. It was long, thick, and inviting. It was good to know that he was driving me mad, but that I was capable of doing the same to him.

Oblivious to my perverted thoughts, West turned around and ran a hand through his messy hair, giving me his back once again.

“Been busy.”

Pause.

“Just hanging out with a friend.”

Pause.

“Yeah, a she.”

Pause.

“Because there’s nothing to tell. She’s just a friend. As I mentioned in my previous fucking sentence. You should do more memory puzzles, Mom. Give your brain a little workout.”

Ouch.

“Feels about the same as last year.” He let out an icy, impersonal chuckle. “Anyway, gotta run. Say hi to Dad from me. Bye now.”

He shoved his phone into his back pocket and turned around, his cool, collected expression making me feel like I was a complete stranger. Like the entire day hadn’t happened.

“Ready to hit the road? I don’t know if I’m good to drive, but I’ll walk you home.” His jade eyes were hard as diamonds, and there was not even a hint of the warmth that swam in them a second ago.

“Was that your mom?”

I didn’t think I’d ever heard anyone talking to their mother so impersonally. As someone who grew up without a mother, I always watched the interactions my friends had with theirs carefully. The bickering, the exasperation, the vein of love running between them in an invisible cord.

The closeness varied, but there was always this underlying, built-in familiarity that wasn’t there between West and his mother.

“Yeah.” He helped me clean up the floor, going about everything quickly and efficiently, avoiding my gaze. Whatever that phone call had meant, it had thrown him off-kilter. “My friends know better than to try to celebrate my birthday, but my mother still tries.”

Why didn’t he celebrate his birthdays?

And why had he chosen to share this one with me?

I knew I wasn’t going to get any answers. Not tonight.

I rubbed his arm with a smile. “Wanna say hi to Grams?”

“Are you kidding?” He scoffed. “Only reason I hang out with your sorry ass is to get close with Mrs. S.”

West

And the Idiot of the Decade Award goes to …

Me.

It was going straight to my fucking open arms.

Kissing Texas was by far the craziest thing I’d done since moving to … well, Texas.

She’d been drunk enough to let it happen, and I was dumb enough to piss all over my rules.

My unlikely savior was my mother. The second I’d heard my phone ringing, I remembered.

Remembered why I was here.

Why I’d never go back to Maine.

Why I didn’t do girlfriends or serious relationships or had a plan for the future.

East was right—I liked Grace Shaw, and if I didn’t keep my hands to myself, I was about to drag both of us into a clusterfuck she didn’t deserve and I had no idea how to get out of.

No promises, no disappointments.

That was my motto in life.

Grace and I walked side by side. She was still buzzed, bouncing around and talking animatedly. She was cute with her little pink cap and blonde hair. A part of me couldn’t wait for the moment she’d see past her own insecurities and open up. Guys would start asking her out the minute she stopped giving them the don’t-get-close signals. Another part of me wanted to skin each and every one of those motherfuckers and make drum kits for orphans out of their flesh. They didn’t deserve her. I didn’t know who ‘they’ were per se. Just faceless, hopefully dick-less dudes.


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