Page 33 of Thorns and Ashes
Thank God Ainsley is going to talk to that pink-haired girl tonight about working with us, because I need a day off.Desperately. Ainsley invited me to go with them to the DuPonce’sMemorial Day Summer Kick Off Bonfire, but even if that didn’t sound like the last place on earth I’d be welcomed, I’m so exhausted, all I can think about is a hot shower and going to bed. One of these days, I will accept her olive branch of friendship, but tonight is not the night.
I exhale a breath of relief as I make it to the clearing in front of my home. Ugh.Home. I guess it’s about time I accept that. Interestingly enough, there’s a light on outside next door. Looks like I officially have a neighbor. I’ve seen movers all weekend in between my shifts, but I still have no idea who I’ll be sharing a wallwith, and with no car in the driveway, I won’t be finding out now either.
After refilling my bird feeder for my early morning flying visitor, I push open my door that’s still very much broken and trudge through the living room, straight to the bathroom, where I turn on the shower. As the water heats up, I plop onto my bed and kick off my shoes. It’s only dusk, and I feel like I can close my eyes right now and sleep for days. Slowly, I rub small circles into my heels. What I wouldn’t do for a foot massage right about now. Ooo, with hot stones. A pang of nostalgia for the life I used to know courses its way through me. It’s lost its sting that it once had, but still, in tired moments like these, after working so hard, I still crave the finer things. Funny how I think I’d finally know what it’s like to appreciate them more.
With that revelation, I rip off my socks and strip out of the rest of my clothes, peeling every layer off with a freeing satisfaction until I’m left in nothing but my bra and underwear. The sound of wheels crunching gravel up the driveway comes through the bathroom window. Steam engulfs me as I step inside and pull back the curtain, but before my hand touches the water to check the temperature, it grazes something furry, and instantly, the sound of wings flapping fills the room along with my screams.
Still screaming, I attempt to run out of the room only to slip on the steam that’s turned into moisture on the floor. Falling hard on my ass, the little beast flies above me, circling like I’m its prey. “Absolutely not!” I yell. I finally stand and make a beeline for the door, shutting it behind me, only to slam half-naked into someone’s wide, strong chest.
A new form of terror fills me, and my stomach drops as more screams find their way out of my mouth. I’m punching and hitting blindly, as two strong arms wrap around me, pinning my armsin place, and lifting my feet off the ground, making me utterly helpless.
“Damn it, Tris. It’s me. What’s going on?”
I stop panicking long enough to see two familiar jade-green eyes looking back at me. I relax once I realize I’m not about to get murdered, but that feeling only lasts for a second as it occurs to me that Levi is in my home, I’m half naked, and his arms are wrapped around my waist, holding me tight with my breasts pressed against his chest, nothing but lace separating me from his shirt.
“What the hell are you doing here?! Put me down.” I try to wiggle my way out of his arms, but as I do, the friction of his body touching mine sends heat shooting through me. At the same time, something in his gaze darkens, but before I can register what’s happening, he drops me, and for the second time today, I land on my ass with an oof.
“You asshole,” I grumble.
A derisive snicker escapes me when I see how hard he’s trying to look anywhere but at me.
“You said put you down,” he says flatly.
“Seriously? I didn’t meandropme on the floor,” I huff, pushing myself upright. “What are you even doing here?”
I stand, still scandalously underdressed but no longer even pretending that’smyproblem. Now I just want to makehimuncomfortable. I’m not shy. Never have been. And if a half-dressed woman in her own home rattles him? Good. Maybe next time he’ll knock instead of bursting in like a buffoon.
“You were screaming,” he says, stiff as a board.
“So what?” I scoff. “You here to save me?” I mock, crossing my arms deliberately, fully aware of what that does. I can’t decide why I’m enjoying this so much, only that I am.
He won’t meet my eyes. His gaze keeps skittering anywhere but my face, his breathing so controlled it borders on suspicious.Honestly, I think he’s about two seconds away from hyperventilating. And that? That might be my favorite part.
“Is there something or someone in there that I should be afraid of?” He points to my bathroom, and I’m instantly reminded of the rat with wings currently ruining my life.
“Other than your reflection?” I fire back. Honestly, he makes it too easy.
That gets his attention.
Instead of snapping back, he finally looks at me. Really looks. His eyes drag slowly down my body, taking me in, inch by inch, unhurried, unapologetic, like he’s cataloging every inch. When his gaze climbs back up, it burns, hot enough that my skin prickles in its wake. A smirk lifts his mouth, and traitorous goosebumps erupt along my arms.
I shift my hands to my hips, pretending I don’t feel the heat pooling low in my belly.
“See something you like?” I challenge. How predictable, and so very disappointing.
“I thought you were smart.”
He steps forward, crowding my space, towering over me until my mouth goes dry. What the hell? His eyes gleam, too sharp, too aware, like he knows exactly what he’s doing to me, even though I was so sure I was the one pulling the strings.
He moves closer until he’s pressed against me once more, and the scent of him, bergamot, whiskey, and leather, engulfs me. I take a shaky step back and nearly lose my footing when his arm shoots out, wrapping around my waist to steady me. A shiver skates through me as his fingers grip harder against my soft skin, like he’s testing if I’m really here. I’m frozen in place, so pinned by his darkened gaze that I don’t notice his other hand moving until he presses something against my stomach.
“As I said,” he murmurs, pushing the towel, my towel, into me before stepping back. “I thought you were smart. Cover yourself.”
His voice bites.
What the hell was that? Talk about whiplash.
“Excuse me?” I snap, but I still wrap the towel around myself, not sure if it’s for him or me.
