Lyrics that Burn, page 10
It explains so much; why she acts the way she does, constantly guarded and giving a cold shoulder. It’s all to protect herself. But at the same time, she not only needs contact, she craves it. But she’s too damn stubborn to even admit it to herself, much less succumb to her desire. Which is why she hasn’t given into Nash yet.
Just before I reach her, her eyes snap open, and her body jumps as if she’s ready to dash away like a frightened bunny. When she realizes it’s me, her shoulders lower, but she doesn’t lean against the railing again, which allows me to drape the blanket around her. Her eyes track my every move, a mix of blue and gray making up the perfect storm. I can’t help but watch her just as closely, and somehow I get stuck on her full lips, parted the barest amount like they hold a secret I yearn to learn.
Sadness washes over me like the waves crashing on the beach, and I’m not sure why. Surely it’s not because Blake up and left me here... And what possessed me to call out asking him to not stop playing? I shouldn’t have done that. Now he knows how much I love listening to him. Or at least he does if he has any ability to put two and two together.
The slightest crunch of sand draws me out of my thoughts, and I startle, ready to spring into action. I’ve been jumped by more paparazzi than I care to count. They think if they catch you off guard, they’ll get the good dirt. And admittedly, they’ve gotten some epic shots of me doing lines that way.
When I catch sight of Blake, I relax, but not as much as I was before. He did leave, after all. He doesn’t waste a moment and wraps a fluffy blanket around me. It instantly shields me from the cool breeze coming off the ocean, and I grab the edges, tugging it more firmly around me.
His kindness has me speechless. I thought he didn’t want me around and simply got up to leave. But instead he was getting me a blanket because he noticed I was cold. I can’t help but stare at him, taking him in with a new light. He’s been standoffish from the moment I met him, dare I say avoiding me. If I didn’t overhear that initial conversation between him and Nash, I’d think he hates me.
I’m even more surprised when he sits on the step next to me and wraps an arm around my shoulders, encouraging me to turn my body so we are sitting flush together. He slightly shivers, and I spot goosebumps on his arm where his sleeve has ridden up.
“You know you could’ve asked to share my blanket instead of being coy and cuddling with me,” I can’t help but tease. I’m immediately rewarded with his blush. It heats his cheeks to a rosy color that is quite honestly adorable.
“Pft. This isn’t cuddling,” he says after a moment. “If I was Nash, I would’ve picked you up and put you on my lap. And if I was Tristan, I would’ve opened my leather jacket to give you some warmth, even if that wouldn’t offer much warmth at all.”
My scoff easily tumbles from my lips, and his eyes instantly go wide realizing what he said. “Tristan wouldn’t come within ten feet of me if he could help it. I think the only reason he does is to torture me. I’m not sure when he started hating me so much.”
“I’m sorry, Raina. I wasn’t thinking,” he whispers, not looking at me.
Following his lead, I turn my gaze to the rolling waves. The moonlight shines above the water, making it easy to see them crash along the beach. “So what would you do, then?”
“Huh?” he asks, seeming startled by my question.
“If you wanted to cuddle? You told me what Nash and Tristan would do. And you don’t have to say it, but we both know the broody, silent Keaton isn’t the snuggling type. But you didn’t tell me what you’d do.” I’m not sure why I want to know so bad. It’s not like I want someone I don’t know to get that close. Especially not Tristan’s best friend. It’s bad enough I’ve let Nash get away with it.
Blake’s head tilts down like the question is putting him out of his comfort zone. “I wouldn’t.”
I probably shouldn’t, but I press anyway. “Why not?”
He must think I’m taking it personally because he’s quick to meet my gaze and say, “It has nothing to do with you. I just don’t have the confidence for something like that. And I’ve been burned too many times, regardless.”
“Tell me who she was, I’ll tit punch her.”
A sharp laugh barks out of him, making me smile. “It was more than one, but I think a tit punch from you would be a reward in their minds. Thanks for that though. Nobody’s offered to do something like that.”
“Well, someone should. You’re awesome,” I say, nudging him with my shoulder. My comment is based only on the fact he grabbed me a blanket, because I don’t know him outside of that at all, but I can tell he’s one of the good ones. Even if he has a questionable friend. And I’m totally ignoring the fact he was my bestie first once upon a time. “We can brainstorm other ideas if you’d like.”
His smile grows, and I’m ensnared by it. It takes over his features; the man is fucking gorgeous. “As if. You’re only trying to get me to help you come up with ideas to use on Tristan.”
“Oh. Yes! That’s a great idea. I like the way you think.” Somehow, with a simple blanket, things became easy with Blake. Maybe it’s because he seems so shy and hasn’t tried to put any moves on me, not like Nash. But it’s almost like we could be friends. The thought sends a stab of pain through my chest. This is how Tristan and I used to be. Fuck, do I miss it at times. If I’m honest, I’ve always missed it. I only stopped yearning for it a week ago when he showed up acting like a complete asshole.
“You miss him.” He doesn’t ask me, it’s a statement. Something he’s sure of. And suddenly I find myself worried he’ll tell Tristan, and it will get used against me. Blake is too observant, which is evident in what he says next. It’s like he’s able to read my mind. “I won’t tell him. We don’t get it though. What happened between the two of you?”
A gust of wind blows a lock of my hair over my face, and he shivers with how it cuts through his clothes. I barely hold off from shuddering myself with how it sneaks through the weave of the blanket. He eyes the lock of hair like he’s contemplating moving it, but something stops him.
I debate if I should share my blanket. I’d feel like a dick if I didn’t, but at the same time, it’s like opening myself up to him after his question. Letting him get closer seems like a dangerous idea.
After a beat, I release my death grip, keeping the edges clamped together and drape the blanket over his shoulders. He takes the side of it and draws it around him the rest of the way. We have to press our sides together to cocoon in the blanket and keep the cold air out, yet it’s still not enough.
I’m convinced he didn’t think about it before doing it, but Blake reaches over me and lifts my legs over his lap, making me turn into him, and I’m certainly not thinking when I move onto his lap. We realize what we did at the same time, our eyes going wide as we stare at each other from inches away.
“I knew you wanted to cuddle,” I whisper, needing to cut the tension.
His blush comes back full force, and I can tell he wants to break eye contact, but he fights the instinct. “Please, you’re a secret cuddle addict. A cuddle bunny.” As if my giggle encourages him, he continues. “It comes with a price, though.”
Something in my stomach swoops, and I suck in a breath. With how shy he is, I know he’s not thinking of kissing me, so I’m not sure why that’s the first thing that comes to my mind. I don’t want to kiss him, do I? The thought has me glancing at his lips while I bite mine. It clues him into where my thoughts went, and he rips his gaze from mine, clearing his throat.
“I want to know what happened between you and Tristan.” His arms wrap around me, sensing my need to flee.
“Or,” I pause, having to lick my lips, “you could go back to playing, and we can get lost in the music together.”
He keeps his hold on me while at the same time turning me until my back is against his chest. His arms cross over my chest, holding the blanket closed. The warmth offers a false sense of security. “Close your eyes.” I throw him a look over my shoulder like he’s crazy. “Do it, Bunny.”
I’ve never had a nickname make me suddenly feel warm and gooey, but the way he calls me bunny, yep, that does it. I close my eyes, like it has some power over me, and my head instinctively falls back on his shoulder.
“Listen to the ocean. It’s a soundtrack for us, one that holds a power all of its own, stronger and more effective than anything I could compose. Follow the rhythmic sounds. Breathe in as it builds, release it when it retreats.” His breath warms my neck, and I can feel the beat of his heart on my back. There’s also the sensation of his chest rising and falling. It adds to the sounds surrounding us. The strength of the waves gaining momentum as they approach the shore, then the explosiveness of them meeting the packed sand, followed by the rustling of shells as it retreats. “You don’t need me to play. It’s why you’re drawn out here when you can’t sleep.”
“How did you know?” I ask, keeping my eyes closed, enjoying the ocean.
“Because I’ve seen the way the sea calls to you. It’s your comfort.” We’re silent while I process what he said. He’s not wrong. The ocean calls to me like it’s home. It’s why I chose to end my life there. “Tell me what happened,” he whispers in my ear.
I’m so comfortable, I’m tempted to tell him, but the moment my lips part, my throat closes. It’s like a rock is shoved into it, and I can’t even swallow, much less get any air past to speak.
“Shhh,” he comforts, like he knows I’m freaking out. His hand moves to my head, brushing my hair back. “Focus on the ocean. Let it fill you with warmth, and as the waves retreat, give it your fears. Let it flow out of you and into the sea. Give up all those negative feelings. You don’t need them.”
The man seems to read me better than I know myself, and I’m not sure I like it. It makes me feel vulnerable when I’ve already been exposed enough. And yet, his tactics work.
“When I was fourteen, I finally got the attention of Mr. Lexington. I was practicing with the choir when he showed up at the church to pick something up from my dad. He offered to sign me right then and there, but my parents wouldn’t hear of it. At the time, my singing was one of the things that drew people into the church. We’d even have people walking by who would wander in to find out who was singing. They didn’t want to give that up.”
I take a deep breath and focus on the sensation of his fingers feathering through my hair. Why am I even sharing this with him? I’m sure Tristan told him this already, but now that I’ve started, I find the words spilling from my mouth. “It took us two years to convince them. It was like a hard-fought negotiation. Mr. Lexington had to agree to personally oversee every aspect of my career. It’s in my contract and everything, unfortunately. And they convinced me to give over a percentage of my earnings, going directly to the church so they could avoid taxes. They had the ability to veto any songs they didn’t like until I was eighteen, which was a nightmare. And they insisted on a five-year contract, which has turned out to be a punishing sentence.”
“Did you get anything you wanted in the deal?” he asks, sensing I was stuck not knowing where to go next with what happened.
“Yeah,” I whisper, a small smile appearing on my face. “I demanded Tristan be included. Where I went, he went. I wouldn’t do it without him. But his parents wouldn’t let him leave until he graduated. They didn’t care if we’d have a private tutor join the tour or not. They wanted him to have a normal ‘childhood.’” Suddenly, the smile is wiped from my face as I remember what came next.
Pain rips through my chest, and tears prick at my eyes. Maybe if I wasn’t having to face his torment day in and day out, I might be able to make it through the rest. But I can’t tell him about how Tristan abandoned me when I needed him the most, or how I was left to face the abuse with no one who believed me.
Panic rushes through my veins much faster than any drug I’ve experienced. It suddenly feels as if the blanket is suffocating me. I find the edges where Blake is holding it closed and throw it open, setting me free, and jump from his lap. “I can’t,” I choke out, unable to even glance at him.
It feels like I’ve run off upset too many times this week, but it’s not easy to always suck it up, shove my feelings in a box, and act like everything is okay. Sometimes you have to work through your pain in private. Lord knows I have too much pride to let someone see me cry.
The house is dark as I stumble toward the stairs. I’m still not used to where everything is and stub my toe on some piece of furniture or another. A barstool maybe, or perhaps a baseboard. Who the fuck knows. In either case, I bite my bottom lip as I hop around, waiting for the throbbing to go down so I can continue on my way to my bedroom.
As I hop on one foot, I suddenly run smack dab into a bare chest. “Shit,” a low voice grumbles at the same time as burning hot liquid splashes against my chest. His arm wraps around my waist, bracing himself against me as he tries to keep anymore from spilling on me.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I whine as the beverage trails between my boobs. I blow at my chest, willing the scorching hot path to cool. I don’t have any time to react before his head dips, and his tongue licks a long swipe. At the end, he presses a kiss to the area. When he pops back up, a small sliver of moonlight falls on his face.
Nash grins at me. “Sorry, roomie. I didn’t see you there, but I kissed it all better.”
My heart pounds in my chest, and my legs squeeze together with the memory of how his tongue felt against my skin. There are much better uses for it... Don’t think about that, Raina. Not when I left his best friend’s lap, not even five minutes ago.
“What are you doing up?” I ask him, trying my best to distract myself from telling him I need more kisses to make it feel better. One simply wasn’t enough. Not even close.
“Can’t sleep,” he mumbles, holding up the mug in his hand. “I thought maybe some hot chocolate would help.”
“You do realize chocolate has caffeine in it, right?”
“No!” he gasps in horror. His fingers splay against my lower back like he wants to press it against his chest in shock, but he’s unwilling to release his hold on me.
The comical look of his hazel eyes staring widely down at me, along with his messy hair that stands on end like his hands ran through it a million times, makes me giggle. “Afraid so.”
He grunts and leans forward until his nose brushes against the shell of my ear. “Maybe you should share it with me then.”
“Fine, but only because you already spilled it on me, and the smell of chocolate is making my mouth water.” I bite my bottom lip and catch his hand in mine as I spin out of his hold. He follows me as I lead him to my room. “Don’t get any ideas of staying in here,” I warn him.
“Mmm, too late. I’m thinking we can make an epic fort over the bed. Hang some string lights. Make a sign for the door. Raina and Nash doing the mash.”
I burst out laughing and cover my mouth with my free hand. There’s no way he hasn’t been holding onto that one in his back pocket. I bet he’s been chomping at the bit to use it too. He flicks on the light, and I can finally see him in full detail. His freckles dotting over his nose and cheeks, the brightness of his smile that’s reaching ear to ear. The man is sunshine in human form.
“Get in bed, gorgeous. I’ll tuck you in so we can share this hot chocolate.” He swats my ass in a playful way, and I run away with a yelp.
“Will you read me a story and check my closet for monsters, too?” He growls at my cheeky response, and I dash for the bed as he gives chase. I’m full on laughing when I jump onto the mattress and fling the covers over me so he can’t smack my ass again. It doesn’t deter him, though. The mug hits the side table with a clink right before his fingers dig into my stomach, tickling me. I thrash from side to side, trying to get free, but it only makes him fall on top of me.
“Uncle!” I call out, though the word is distorted with my laughing.
“No uncles here, only the monster from your closet,” Nash responds, his fingers wiggling against my neck.
“No, not the monster.” I bat at his hands until I’m able to grip them in my hold. I’m out of breath, my chest heaving up and down. All the while I stare into his eyes, a sparkle in them drawing me in as my smile grows. I haven’t had this much fun in the longest time, and it’s only lasted a few minutes. Long enough to distract me from the thoughts weighing me down like an anchor.
“Caught you,” he rasps, glancing from my eyes to my lips.
“I think I’m the one who caught you. I set a monster trap.” I squeeze his wrists where I hold on, not willing to let him go yet.
“You going to tame this monster?” he coos. The sound of his voice runs over my skin like a caress, and I shiver. He bites at his lip ring, drawing my attention. The glint of the silver metal beckons me, and the urge to lick it becomes stronger, so strong I’m worried I won’t be able to stop myself if I don’t focus on something else.
I clear my throat. “I get first sip of the hot chocolate.”
He smirks like he knows what I’m doing. “I don’t know about that. If you get the first sip, then I may not get a taste of it at all. That hot chocolate is top notch. I used real milk to make it.”
“Don’t pretend you didn’t already get a taste,” I tease.
His gaze tracks over me as I sit back against the pillows lining my headboard and reach for the mug. “Okay, you got me. I had a sip after I finished stirring.” He pouts his lip out dramatically, and it’s too fucking cute for his own good.
“I was talking about the taste you got when you licked it off me.” I hide my smirk behind the mug as I watch his brow shoot up. Before I can get further distracted by whatever comeback he thinks up, I take a sip of the steaming liquid. A burst of milk chocolate dances over my tongue, and while I was planning on moaning to torture Nash, I find the sound that comes out is entirely genuine.
“So mean to me,” he whispers, watching me intently. I don’t miss the way his hand slides to his crotch and adjusts himself. Unfortunately, I’m not able to glance down to catch a hint of his size. Not with how he watches my every movement. You shouldn’t be looking anyway, Raina.
