Page 89 of Ignition

Allowing his gaze to pull mine in, I worried the corner of my bottom lip.

“Shut up,” I muttered, voice a little breathless, pulse a little fast, fingers stroking through thick, smooth strands in a way that was anything but pissed. I fought the irrational urge to rake my hands through his hair and ruin it—or watch it fall back into place, all glossy and perfect.

He dragged me closer, until his chest heaved against mine and restraint crackled and stretched taut between us.

I swallowed, hard, and resisted saying the words making my head spin:

Kiss me, you infuriating idiot.

His hand curled into my hair, fingers twitching as if they struggled not to tug. His eyes went pitch black as they reluctantly flicked up from watching my mouth.

He dragged in a shuddering breath, and his brows drew into an agonised line.

“I wanna kiss you so bad right now,” he whispered.

My heart thrashed against my ribs, fighting to get out, as my lungs fought for air. People counted around us, but it all sounded far away, with the way my blood roared in my ears and those words repeated in my head.

10, 9, 8…

So do it.

His eyes flicked back down to my mouth, and mine mirrored the gesture, just in time to see his tongue wet his lips. I arched in a sliver, enough to cling to plausible deniability, though my entire body vibrated with anticipation.

“I can’t,” he rasped, as if he’d read my thoughts.

Or maybe I’d said it aloud, I wasn’t sure.

5, 4, 3…

His hand slid to my chin, and his thumb brushed over my mouth, pressing down on my bottom lip and short-circuiting my stripped-raw nerves.

His jaw shifted with restraint and something else I couldn’t name, before he pressed a little harder, tugging my lower lip down a sliver.

Then, his touch whispered away as if it had never been.

Explosions broke out, signalling the start of the fireworks show neither of us turned to watch.

Slivers of colourful lights burst through the windows, flashing over his face—that infuriating, smug face I wanted to claw at or kiss stupid—which was twisted in an expression I couldn’t quite decipher, but hoped was the same ache slicing at my insides.

Chapter twenty-six

Josh

The opening lyrics to Beggin’ covered by Måneskin played in my earbuds, drowning out my heavy footsteps scrunching on gravel. It must’ve stuck around on my playlist since the trip Pri had commanded the music in my car, when we’d bought Christmas gifts for our families. My hand rose to press skip, but little though I wanted to admit it, the band had grown on me.

Icy morning air bit at my face and hands, but the quiet on campus, which had been such a reprieve before New Year’s, vanished without a trace. The quad was abuzz all over again, and eyes followed me everywhere, as always.

I smothered a chuckle as I spied Mia tossing a coin in the fountain for good luck on exams—a tradition we had at the start of each term—and picked up speed.

Look at her, fitting in.

My chest tightened to the point of pain, but I told myself it was the exertion. Lately, I went on runs like I trained for a fuckin’ marathon, morning and evening, but how else was I supposed to deal with the tension building inside me every day, every class I endured, knowing I couldn’t drag her to a shadowy corner and smother her with my lips?

The chorus to Southbound by Artemas hummed in my ears, travelling over my bones, before I pressed on my headphone in what had to be the swiftest skip in the West. No, thank you. The last thing I needed was a song narrating every filthy thought churning in my head like molasses.

To add insult to injury, the last time my dick jumped so much at a flash of skin, or when I rubbed myself raw like this, had been back when I was a teenager. Now, seeing her do something as simple as adjusting her collar or pulling her hair off her shoulder got me instantly hard. I couldn’t fault my growth hormones anymore, so, of course, I blamed her, with those goddamn freckles and the way she’d gasped when I’d dipped her low on the dance floor.

I wanted to catch the sound with my mouth. I wanted to do many things, but I was on thin ice since the Alice encounter, when I’d panicked and blurted out the first fuckin’ thing that came to mind.