Page 69 of Thorns and Ashes
Tris waves her fingers goodbye, and even from the porch, I can see her eyes sparkle through the open window. “Have a good night, Levi. Don’t wait up.”
I breathe in and hold the air tight in my chest. It feels like the rubber band is close to snapping. I think about what I said to Tom and how I meant every word today, but when I see her, when I’m with her, it’s like I’m losing what’s left of my mind, my senses, and my conviction. I exhale, frustrated. “Damn it.”
Ellie’s head pops up briefly from her nap before returning to the bed, and I decide I might as well break open my next bottle of Jack Daniels because there’s no way I’m going to be able to do anything other thanwait up.
It’s not until hours later that Rory’s car comes traveling back up the drive. My shoulders finally relax, and I exhale a long breath. I’ve spent every one of those hours imagining what kind of trouble the three of them could possibly get into, and each one has resulted in me wanting to hop into my truck and track them down. The idea of Tris having another man’s hands on her tonight almost made me reach for my keys, but given how many times I’ve reached for the bottle instead, I knew better than to try a stunt like that.
Besides, she’s not mine, meaning she can do what she wants. It doesn’t change how screwed up I am for not giving a damn about that little fact. My stomach clenches at the thought. I sent Ellie inside when it started to rain about an hour ago and put the cap back on the bottle of Jack, but I couldn’t get myself to call it a night, so I’ve been sitting in this rocking chair pretending like it’s not for the sole purpose of making sure she gets home okay.
When she steps out into the rain, it’s no longer a drizzle, but pouring. I can barely hear the girls’ laughter as it floats through the air over the sound of the raindrops that fall all around us, splashing up off the trees and porch steps. She doesn’t see me right away, so I watch from the shadows as she waves goodbye to the girls with one hand and holds her heels in the other. When the car is no longer in sight, I expect her to make a run for the house, surprised she hasn’t already, but instead she turns her face up to the night sky. I walk to the porch post that meets the stairs and lean on it, watching while she twirls around and around, bathed in moonlight and rain as the sky opens up like it’s all for her. Slowing to a stop, her mouth opens with the widest, most carefree smile I’ve ever seen, and I’m momentarily stunned by this woman’s ethereal beauty.
As though she can feel my gaze, she tilts her head back down, and her eyes find mine. She giggles, a sound that sounds so right but also so foreign to my ears.
She lifts her face once more to the stars, closes her eyes, and smiles. “You’re staring.”
I look down, wondering how many times she’ll catch me doing that. “What are you doing?” I ask, amused.
“Rory says she loves the rain, that it has the power to wash everything away.” She spins one more time before walking toward the house.
As she reaches the stairs below me, I back away, narrowing my eyes at her quizzically. A wet tendril of hair clings to her face, water drips slowly down her neck across her collarbone, and disappears as it travels down her chest. She’s soaked through her dress, but she doesn’t seem to care.
“I don’t think it does, but it’s nice to pretend,” she says earnestly, her eyes seeming to go distant before returning.
I can smell the tequila from where I stand, and as she looks back at me, something sinful flashes in her eyes. Before she schools her expression, she drops her heels, climbs onto the porch rail, and begins to walk across it like a balance beam, causing my pulse to skyrocket.
“What the hell are you doing? You’re going to crack your head open.” I rush toward her, my arms reaching out on instinct.
“I don’t think I will,” she sing-songs. “I don’t think you’d let that happen.” Her gaze slides over me, blue eyes gleaming with mischief.
“Get down, Tris,” I growl out through gritted teeth.
She huffs while dramatically rolling her eyes as she continues to treat the rail of the porch like her own personal balance beam and ignores me completely. I swear this woman will do anything to drive me crazy. I brace myself with her every step, imagining everypossible way that this can end badly until my jaw is clenched so tightly that it starts to hurt.
“Tris,” I warn, as angry as the rain that continues to pour down.
She shakes her head, completes her walk along the rail, and pivots back toward me. “Do I make you angry, Levi? Is that really why you’ve been out here all night?” Her darkened gaze travels over my shoulder to my empty whiskey glass beside the chair and back to me. “Did you find any answers swimming in that whiskey? Or did you spend your night imagining all the things you won’t let yourself do to me in this little dress?” she purrs. Biting down on her lip, her brow rises, challenging me to contradict her.
My lungs suddenly feel too small in my chest as I try to control my breathing, butin controlis the last thing this woman makes me feel.
“Get. Down.”
“You’re no fun. Maybe I should go back to the Boozy Bear and hang out with Fred,” she taunts, then laughs when she sees my expression sour. “Wow, I really do make you angry.”
She laughs harder when my eyes narrow, but stops when she loses her footing and slips forward.
“Shit,” I gasp, not thinking, only reacting. My arms reach out and snatch her from the air, unable to let her fall.
Heat flashes in her eyes that are locked on mine, mixed with awe as her body slides slowly down mine until her toes touch the ground and her arms come down, wrapping around my neck. Water seeps from her dress and through my clothes, highlighting further every place her body rests against mine, instigating a desire in me that I’m unable to resist. My hand rests on her back, my fingers itching to squeeze, so I do. I press her body harder into mine, a low grunt escaping from my chest when she presses back.
“I told you you’d fall.”
“I knew you’d catch me,” she whispers, her eyes dipping, lingering before they return, now darkened with unmistakable interest.
My mind swirls with whiskey as I try to determine right and wrong. I’m locked in place, unable to make a move. This close together, I know she must feel what she’s doing to me, but when she tilts her head up and inches her lips toward mine, I release her so unexpectedly that she stumbles back. Her brows furrow together as she gets her footing, and I back away, turning toward my door.
“You coward,” she rasps.
My hand freezes on the doorknob, and I turn back to face her. “Excuse me?”
