Scorched: Book 1 of the Scorched Trilogy, page 17
Maggie: Okay, seriously I think you need to come to the party.
My stomach dropped at her last few messages. What the hell was wrong with Munro? Since when was he a partier? He took me to task just hours before about being frivolous and now he was wasted at a high school party. A sour feeling started churning in my stomach, and I wondered if he’d found out something bad that he hadn’t shared with me earlier.
I hadn’t seen Munro drink more than a few sips at Sam’s Halloween party. As far I as knew he wasn't much of a partier, but maybe this afternoon was fucking with his head too. I called Maggie back, waiting impatiently for her to pick up.
“Annie!” I pulled the phone away from my ear as she shouted my name in greeting. “Hang on, I'm going outside for a sec.”
She yelled at someone on her end, and I heard the static of the phone bumping against her face as she walked somewhere quieter. I could hear music and shouting in the background. It sounded like the party was huge.
Maggie spoke when she found a quiet spot.
“Hey, sorry, it’s a madhouse in there. There was no way I was going to be able to hear you.”
“What’s going on?” I asked, tapping my pen on my discarded book anxiously.
“Annie, I think you should come out. Munro is wasted. Like shitfaced. Sam’s worried about him. He tried to convince him to leave, but he just pushed him away and told him to fuck off.”
My jaw dropped. I’d never seen Munro behave that way. Especially not to a friend.
“Shit,” I said, not knowing what else to say.
“Yeah, it’s no bueno. Sam thought you could talk some sense into him. He’s going to get into a fight, it’s just a matter of time at this point.”
“Shit!” I said again, but for a different reason. I looked down. I was still in my comfy clothes and didn’t want to bother changing. “Ugh, fine. I’ll be out in fifteen.”
“Okay, I’ll see you soon.”
“Maggie?” I hesitated for a moment.
“Yeah, Annie?”
“Just try to keep him out of trouble until I get there.”
“On it! Get your ass over here.” She hung up and I scrambled off the bed, fixing my ponytail in the process.
There wasn't much else I could do since I wasn't willing to put on makeup and change clothes at this point. Grabbing a chunky wool cardigan that covered my butt, I threw on a pair of warm boots and was out the door in less than two minutes.
I could hear the party before I reached the end of Laura's lane. She lived just beyond the boundary of the city. Her parents owned a tree farm and had sixty acres of property, which meant the neighbors were too far away to hear or care when she had a party.
Cars were parked down the lane, in the long driveway, and on the lawn. Her parents must have been blind or clueless when they came home to find their lawn half shredded with tire tracks.
Maggie wasn’t joking, the party was huge. I parked at the end of the line of cars and made my way toward the house. There were more than a few cars with steamy windows, and I was grateful I didn’t catch a glimpse of any random body parts. I saw a few different guys watering the trees and at least two people puking. I did not need to see any of that.
As I approached the front porch, I sent Maggie a text letting her know I was there. I walked in through the front door, and heard my name being yelled over the noise of music and laughter.
“Annie!” Maggie pushed through the crowd to grab my hand, her face serious and determined.
“What’s going on?” I shouted.
“Downstairs.” Was all I got in return as she led me down the steps into the basement.
The music wasn’t quite as loud down here, but there was a lot of yelling. The downstairs was the game room and hang out area of the house. One group was playing beer pong on the ping pong table, another was sitting at a card table playing a drinking game of some kind.
Another corner had a big screen TV hanging on the wall, playing some action movie, and a large sectional couch that held more than one couple making out. My eyes scanned the couch quickly, cringing at the couples putting on a show. I begged the gods above to not find Munro in that corner of the room and was relieved when I didn’t spot him.
A loud guffaw drew my attention from the PDA corner. It was a loud bark of a laugh that sounded anything but cheerful. Whipping my head around, I saw Munro and Sam sitting on a couple of chairs in another corner that was probably normally used as a reading nook.
He looked unreasonably gorgeous. His dark brown hair more messy than usual, but it just made him look dangerous. His face was usually clean shaven, but tonight there was dark stubble covering his jaw, making him seem older. He wore a dark blue t-shirt that made his eyes stand out even more than usual. The shirt was fitted to his torso and did nothing to hide the lean muscle underneath. His jeans looked worn and comfortable but fit him perfectly. I was beginning to regret my decision not to change when I saw how stupidly handsome he looked.
There was a group of people sitting in a circle around Munro and Sam. Emily Heston was stretched on the arm of Munro’s chair, her arm perched behind him and across the back of the chair as if she were supporting herself. But I could see how she was leaning down and pressing into him as she said something. He gave a little smile and nodded, and rage flared inside me. I turned to Maggie as I forced my emotions down and imagined ice coating my heart.
“Looks like he’s doing just fine.” I turned to leave, pissed I’d bothered to come out so I could see him with another girl.
Maggie tugged me back in her direction, still holding on to my hand. “Hey, we got him to calm down a bit. Someone suggested truth or dare, and he's been better, but he's still pounding the drinks. Emily Heston has been draping herself all over him like a slutty shawl all night long. He keeps putting her off. But who the hell knows. He's probably drunk enough now to make out with a lamp post.”
I turned back around but didn’t say anything. Maggie pulled me to the group, and I sensed the moment when Munro realized I was there. His gaze burned into me, but I didn’t want to look at him. Still, I couldn’t seem to keep my eyes from shifting to his of their own accord.
His eyes were bright and intense as he leaned forward like he wanted to say something to me, but this was not the time nor place. His jaw tightened as he ground his teeth together and sat back, like he'd had the same thought. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Emily's eyes narrowing as they shifted back and forth between me and Munro. I didn't bother looking at her as the circle made room for me and Maggie to sit down.
Maggie looked over at Sam with a smile. “What did we miss?”
“Two truths and a dare.” Sam winked.
“Who’s turn?” Maggie asked him. Sam opened his mouth to answer but Emily interrupted.
“It’s my turn!” Her voice was overly bright as she clapped her hands. “Munro! Truth or dare?”
I looked over at him waiting for his answer. His eyes held mine, not even bothering to look at Emily. They burned with intensity, and I could feel heat deep in the pit of my belly, warming me until my cheeks were flushed.
“Truth,” he mumbled. His accent was thick and his voice husky.
I swallowed thickly. What the hell was going on with him? If I didn’t know any better I’d think he wanted to jump my bones, but we had both been so angry at each other earlier that afternoon. I tried to keep my emotions from my face. He didn’t need to know that I was trying to decide if I should stomp on his foot or crawl into his lap.
Emily’s voice interrupted my thoughts, bringing me back to this shitty reality. She’d made her voice soft and seductive and was trying to get Munro’s attention back on her. She leaned down, pressing against him as she spoke, her words low so that I could barely hear.
“Who would you take in the closet for seven minutes in heaven?”
Munro’s eyes didn’t leave mine the entire time, and I saw the corners flinch slightly before he spoke. “Sam. He’s a very gentle kisser.”
Then he broke my gaze and laughed as Sam stood up and tried to grab Munro’s face in a mock kiss. Everyone else in the group laughed, although Emily’s looked forced. I bit my cheek to contain my chuckle. I was still pissed at Munro for this afternoon, no matter that I wanted to take it out on his lips.
Munro lifted a glass to his mouth and tipped it back until he finished his drink. Maggie gave me a look that said, “I told you,” with a raised brow while Emily tried to get his attention back on her.
“It's your turn, Munro.” She pushed his shoulder playfully and I wished he would push her off the arm of the chair. I could probably find a nice hole for her.
He looked at her with a smile, and my insides were immediately filled with acid as jealousy settled in. For God's sake, all because he smiled at her.
Then he turned his eyes to me. “Annie.” My muscles tensed with the heat laced in his tone as he spoke my name. “Truth or dare?”
I was predictable, I always picked truth over dare. I’d rather give up a secret than be forced to do something I didn’t want to, so I have no idea why the word spilled from my mouth.
“Dare.”
It came out as a challenge. Maggie laughed beside me, hearing the anger behind the word and was probably thinking Munro was in trouble.
Munro stared at me while a slow smile started forming on his face. It was so predatory and sexy that I had to lick my suddenly dry lips, and his eyes flickered down to track the movement. He leaned forward, resting his forearms on his thighs, but he was too far away to touch me. It felt like we were in in a tunnel and all the others had disappeared.
“I dare you to take someone into the closet for seven minutes in heaven.”
His accent was so thick I almost didn’t understand him. I saw it for the challenge it was; he was daring me to pick him. Part of me wanted to grab Maggie and pull her in there with me. It was the safe choice, and everyone would laugh, just as they had when Munro said Sam was a good kisser. But I didn’t feel safe today. I felt reckless and wild and angry. He made me feel that way and he could deal with the consequences.
I got up from the floor, keeping my eyes on him as I came to stand in front of him. Wrapping my hand around his upper arm I pulled him up with a gentle tug. The group around us broke out in laughter and catcalls, except for Emily who huffed out an annoyed sound—but I didn't care. I ignored them all.
He came with me willingly, sliding his hand over my waist and flattening his palm over the small of my back. He swayed into me a bit, showing me just how drunk he was. Anger simmered in my chest as I looked around the basement for a spot that could be considered a closet. Sam pointed to a door behind where he was sitting, and I pulled us in that direction.
When I opened the door, I saw it was a small storage room and not a closet at all. A half set-up Christmas tree occupied one of the corners and next to that was some old furniture and stacked boxes, all neatly organized. I flipped on the lights and slammed the door shut behind us, seeing several craning necks trying to peek in before I cut off their view.
Locking the door, I turned and leaned back against it, looking at him and using it to support myself a little too. My feelings were a riot, and I couldn’t pick out which emotion was the strongest. One part of me wanted to grab him and kiss him, but I was a chicken, so I stuffed that emotion down and focused on the anger.
“Having fun?” I bit out.
I dropped my hand from his arm when I realized I’d been unconsciously squeezing my fingers into the hard muscle. He’d taken his hand from my back once we’d gotten inside the room. And now he turned to me, his gray eyes burning with heat, anger, turmoil, and looking ready to explode. My heart was racing, but I couldn’t put a name to the feelings inside me. I didn’t know if I was scared or excited. Maybe both.
He stalked toward me, closing the space between us and resting his forearms on the door above my head, boxing me in. A small noise escaped my throat. This was not the response I was expecting. He leaned his head down, his hair tickling my cheek as his lips came close to my ear. They brushed against my skin, causing me to shiver as he whispered, “I am now.”
His breath was warm against my skin, and I forced my eyes to stay open, afraid if I closed them the world would spin out of control. He smelled amazing, the earthiness of sandalwood and rain, and that ever-present feeling of a secluded wooded glen that I felt when his magic was open for me to sense. It was like a drug.
Munro’s warm breath tickled my neck the instant before the soft skin of his lips pressed against my leaping pulse. My eyes fluttered closed. My hands were fisted at my sides, but I needed to touch him and feel his skin with my fingers. Feeling uncommonly bold, I brought my hands to his sides, pulling at the edges of his shirt so I could work my fingers under the fabric.
For a moment, I almost panicked. What was I doing? But the need to touch him was stronger than my fear. I touched the hard muscles of his sides, just above the waist of his jeans. The now familiar spark flared through me. It made me tighten my grip, nearly digging my nails into his skin as my pulse beat so rapidly inside my chest, I was sure he could feel it against his own.
Munro groaned, and his lips trailed down my neck, causing me to release a shaky exhale of breath. Seeming to lose some inner battle, Munro let his body fall into mine from hip to chest, and I groaned out loud. Or maybe it came from Munro. I couldn't tell the difference between us anymore. Muddled worries were pricking the back of my mind, trying to get me to remember something important, but the feel of his body was quickly eradicating any attempt to sort through my thoughts or feelings.
Opening my eyes, I looked up into his granite gaze and found it hazy with lust and drunkenness. Swallowing audibly, I gripped at his sides again, but I wasn’t sure if I was pushing him away or pulling him closer.
“What happened?” My question came out in a breathy voice that I barely recognized. I wanted him to tell me if this was because of our fight. Or was it something else?
“Nothing,” he growled out the answer as he leaned back in, and his lips brushed against my ear. His teeth grazed down my jaw, and his rough check softly scratched down my neck until I was nearly shaking.
A heavy pounding rattled the door, causing vibrations to shake me. Munro pounded back before he shouted, “Fuck off.”
My breath hitched, and a wave of heat threatened to consume me. He was raw standing in front of me, feral and lethal, looking at me like he wanted to devour me. His hands were still on the door above me, but now he brought them down, sliding them over my sides, forcing my arms up so they wrapped around his neck.
He pushed his hands into my cardigan to find the edges of my shirt like I had done to him. Warm, rough hands found the soft skin of my waist before sliding up to the bare skin of my back. He pulled me in tighter to his body, like he was desperate for the contact. That was how it felt to me, and I wondered if it was possible to be addicted to a person.
The pounding on the door resumed behind me, but Munro was ignoring it, his nose nuzzling into my neck, as our bodies pressed tightly together. There was a warning flashing in the back of my head, a memory I needed to grasp, but my mind was too consumed with Munro.
The electricity from his touch was throbbing with a dull ache through me, in time with my pulse. The lights overhead flickered like a wind storm was threatening to cut power, and I could feel the energy gathering around us, the same as it had that day at his house.
It came back to me with a rush. How we’d almost blown up Munro’s house, at least according to Ryan.
“Shit,” I said, as I came to myself and pushed back at Munro's shoulders. His hands refused to relinquish their hold on me, so I pushed harder.
“Munro!” He pulled his head back and looked at me with a storm brewing in his eyes.
“Annie.” My name on his lips was filled with possession and for a moment I forgot why I’d pushed him away.
The lights flickered as a reminder, and I pulled away from him quickly, breaking the hold of his arms so I could get his hands off me long enough to think.
“Munro, stop. We’re going to blow the house up,” I choked out as I stepped away from him, trying to put some space between us.
The absence of his body against mine left me feeling cold and unaccountable lonely, leaving me with the urge to cry. What the hell were we doing? We couldn’t even touch each other without the possibility of blowing up the neighborhood.
Munro stayed by the door, bracing himself against it with his forehead now resting against the wood. His back rose and fell quickly with labored breath as he attempted to get himself under control. His fist thumped a small hit against the door, and I shivered, crossing my arms tightly across my chest to resist reaching out for him.
The air around us was heavy and charged, but I could tell the energy was starting to dissipate. I leaned back against an antique wooden radio that was more furniture than stereo equipment, and my leg bounced nervously while I waited for him to get control.
Munro turned around and stared at me and the heat had burned out of his eyes, replaced with their usual gray iciness. I didn't know if I was more relieved or disappointed. Neither of us said anything for a moment, but then his eyes flickered down to my where my arms were crossed over my chest. His mouth parted in surprise, and I started when he pushed away from the door forcefully and crossed the room to stand in front of me.
“Where did you get this?” His accent was still thicker than normal, but the husky quality was less apparent.
What was apparent was the anger that was threaded in his words. The harsh tone had me pulling back from him, and I pushed his hand away as it headed toward my chest.
“What are you talking about?” I asked as I looked down to see what had stirred such a strong reaction in him.
“Oh my God!” The whispered exclamation escaped my lips as my hands wrapped around the charm that hung from my neck.
I started shivering uncontrollably, feeling like someone had dumped a bucket of cold water over my head.
“What?” Munro demanded.
“I… this is my… how?” I swallowed heavily, trying to form the words to explain. I looked up at Munro, shock making me incapable of coherent thought.
