The Moth and the Flame (When Rivals Play Book 2)

by B. B. Reid

Upstairs, he led me to the guest bedroom at the top of the stairs and flipped on the light. It was stylish yet simply decorated with flowing dark green curtains, a queen bed covered with a comforter to match the curtains, white nightstands on each side, and a tall white dresser with a TV mounted on the wooden surface.

  “This is…cozy.” I thought being alone in a car with him had been stressful. Spending the night, sharing the same bed, however, was…nerve-racking. My body didn’t seem to mind, and I told myself I was too tired to care. No way could I still find him irresistible after what I had just learned.

  Wren didn’t respond, and I began to wonder if he considered all conversation rhetorical. He pulled the comforter and a pillow off the bed, and I watched, feeling perplexed yet a little relieved, as he began making a pallet on the floor. After freeing his gun from his waist, he placed it under his pillow.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Going to bed,” he answered without sparing me a single glance.

  “But your shoulder won’t survive on the floor. Take the bed. I’m used to sleeping on the ground.” That wasn’t exactly true, but he didn’t need to know that. I couldn’t exactly spend the night alone on a park bench and expect to survive the night unmolested. It forced me to take risks my homeless peers didn’t have to, so I got creative. Sometimes, I’d spend the night right under my foster parents’ noses inside a neighbor’s shed. The older school buses were easy to break into, and sometimes, I crashed with Miles during the rare times his parents weren’t hovering.

  Wren paused, and I would have thought he might be considering my point except he looked pissed as fuck. Lying down, he grimaced as he searched for a comfortable position.

  “You’re going to be doing that all night if you don’t take the bed,” I observed.

  He stood to his feet quicker than I would have expected, gripped the front of my shirt, and with little effort or care, he tossed my ass on the bed. Eventually, I stopped bouncing enough to see him watching me with his arms crossed. His eyes dared me to move from the bed.

  “Now go the fuck to sleep.”

  Stalking across the room, he shut off the light.

  “I’m dirty, and I smell,” I admitted shamefully. The bedding looked too pristine. I shuddered to think what my dirty clothes were doing to them.

  “Yeah, no fucking kidding,” I heard him mutter before he lay back down on the pallet.

  Flushing from my greasy hairline to my still frozen toes, I lay perfectly still until his breathing deepened before it evened out. I scooted from the bed, careful not to make a sound, and shed my backpack before peeling the clothes from my body. I refrained from tossing them across the room like I would if I were alone. Keeping them close meant easy access. I could put them back on undetected before Wren woke up in the morning.

  With my dirty clothes safely crumpled in a pile next to the bed, I slid under the cool, clean sheets and snuggled deep. It had been a week since I slept in a bed and even longer since I slept in one this comfortable. Regardless of the circumstances and the company that came with it, I planned to savor it. Who knew how long I’d be on the streets this time. I’d been caught enough times to know it was inevitable.

  “Hey, kid?”

  At the heart-dropping sound of Wren’s voice so perfectly lucid, I yanked the sheets to my chin, clutching them tight and swallowing my squeal.

  That asshole had been pretending to sleep! Had he watched me undress? Against my will, my toes curled at the possibility. I decided to ignore them and focused on my outrage. Realizing he’d called me ‘kid’ again helped out a lot.

  “Yes?” I snapped.

  He hesitated and silly me, I held my breath. However, it was nothing compared to my reaction to what he said next. “I owe you one.”

  My heart, no longer content to canter, sped into a full gallop until it felt like I was soaring. “Is that a thank you?”

  “It’s whatever you want it to be,” he muttered evasively. I had a feeling he wouldn’t have given me even that much if he knew how far my imagination reached. When he didn’t say more, I assumed he was pretending to sleep again, but then he said, “If we’re going to be friends, I’ll need to know what to call you.”

  Smiling in the dark, I retorted, “Who says I want to be your friend?”

  “It’s like you said,” he drawled, and I could hear the smile in his tone. “I haven’t returned the favor and saved your life. You’re stuck with me.”

  Despite feeling like I was flying, I debated giving him my name. He had warned me not to trust Shane…did that mean I shouldn’t trust him, either? After a few uncomfortable seconds ticked by, I gave him a name that wasn’t mine. “Lucy.”

  My heart began to pound so hard I feared he might hear and know I’d lied. The worst part was that I wouldn’t even be able to explain why.

  “Lucy,” he echoed, and my stomach twisted brutally with regret. “I like it, Lou.”

  Hearing that name, I glared at the ceiling, forgetting all about my guilt. I must have been the only person in the world who detested it. Even my parents had called me Lou. I swallowed down all the abandonment issues bubbling up and sternly repeated, “Lucy.”

  Of course, he didn’t respond, and a minute later, I knew why when I heard snoring coming from the foot of the bed.

  Giggling softly, I hugged my pillow, and even though he was probably faking again, I let my eyes slowly drift shut.

  “Wake up.”

  I jolted awake at the command, and my eyes slowly cracked open. The first thing I noticed, however, was the freshly laundered scent of the pillow my face was shoved into. Panic speared my empty stomach as I wondered where I ended up last night. Groaning, I flipped onto my back and blinked a couple of times to clear my cloudy vision before searching the room for the source of the voice I knew I hadn’t dreamed.

  Across the room, I found Wren leaning against the closed door, fully dressed and looking better rested than I felt. He was watching me, and the moment our eyes connected, it all came flooding back. “Is the house on fire?” I grumbled and then inwardly cringed at the raspy croak of my voice.

  “No.”

  Relaxing again after stretching, I closed my eyes. “Then do me a favor. Find the nearest cliff and walk off it for me, will ya? I’m sleeping here.”

  “I guess you’re not a morning person,” he remarked, amused.

  “I’m not a people person.”

  “What if I told you we’re going shopping?” he asked, switching tactics. “Would you like me then?”

  My eyes popped open, but I couldn’t meet his gaze. “Um…no thanks.”

  “That’s too bad.”

  Sitting up, I finally met his gaze. “Why is that?”

  “Because I wasn’t asking.”

  We stared at each other for a long time, something passing between us that I couldn’t understand. “I have a feeling you rarely do.”

  He didn’t respond as he crossed the room, and the closer he got, the more I became aware of how little I wore. I clutched the comforter closer to my chest when he reached the bed, but none of the scenarios happening in my head occurred in real life. Instead, he snatched my dirty clothes from the floor and tossed them on top of me. They were still damp from the snow, but right now, they were a godsend.

  “Get dressed,” he ordered.

  I nodded and waited for him to leave.

  He didn’t.

  The bastard retreated across the room, perched both elbows on the dresser behind him and crossed his ankles with a hint of a smile.

  “Some privacy?”

  “You’re a pretty heavy sleeper,” he remarked. “Who says I haven’t already looked?”

  I ignored the wild beating of my heart and said, “Should I add pervert underneath gangbanger then?” Mentally, I patted myself on the back for not melting into a puddle.

  His smile widened, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “So you did see.”

  My gaze fell to the bed. “It was pretty hard to miss.”


  “Then you know that you can’t ever talk about last night.” Although a warning, his tone was surprisingly gentle. I wanted to believe he cared, but I knew he was only looking out for his own ass.

  “Don’t worry. There’s nothing about last night I care to relive.” In fact, I was counting the seconds until I could get out of there. Hot or not, Wren was bad news. I knew that now and was thinking clearer thanks to a good night’s sleep. “Now can you leave so I can get dressed?”

  I blinked a few times, losing some of my nerves when the smoky gray of his eyes slowly became a stormy blue. However, I’d only gotten a glimpse before he turned his back.

  “I meant for you to leave the room.”

  Silence.

  Unbelievable.

  I quickly hopped up from the bed and cursed when the cold morning air touched my skin. Didn’t these people believe in heating?

  After I finished dressing, I took the time to study him while his menacing gaze was averted. He was tall—definitely over six feet. And the muscles he possessed were subtle, but he was definitely on the right track to being a modern Adonis in just a few short years. His hair wasn’t as dark as mine. My own was nearly pitch black while his hair reminded me of delicious chocolate. My gaze trailed lower, touching every part of him, including his sculpted ass encased in jeans that hugged his thighs just right. When the long fingers on both hands suddenly flexed, curling and uncurling, I studied them too and wondered just how much blood was on them.

  “You done checking me out?” he questioned with a laugh.

  “What are you talking about? I wasn’t checking you out,” I lied even as I felt my skin flush. I bent to tie the laces on my black combat boots. The heels were four inches high and almost as thick as my arm—not to mention they were unpractical, but they made me feel empowered.

  “I can see your reflection in the TV screen.”

  My hands paused from looping my laces, and I glared at his back. “You mean you were watching me this whole time?”

  He turned around with a satisfied smile. “Yup.”

  I looked away but felt my lip curl as I finished tying my laces. “I guess chivalry is dead after all.”

  “If chivalry were dead, baby girl, your cherry would have been mine last night.”

  I shot up from my crouched position and propped my hands on my hips. “Who says I’m a virgin?”

  His gaze trailed from my face to my neck to the top of my breasts exposed in the low-cut cami. “Only virgins blush like that.”

  “So you’re an expert?” At seventeen I doubted it, but it was clear Wren knew more than I did. My palms begin to sweat at the mere possibility of sex while Wren looked perfectly at ease. He shrugged, and I realized I hated his arrogance as much as his indifference. “Yeah, well, sex is off the table. We’re friends, remember?” I had no intentions of being his friend, but it was the only card I had to play. If he pushed the issue, he’d soon find out how eager I was to spread my legs for him. Just this once before I never saw him again.

  “Friends fuck.”

  Between my thighs, I felt those words fall from his tongue as if he’d purposely placed them there. “Not us.”

  He slowly smiled. It was seductive and full of promise. “You might regret those words later.”

  There won’t be a later. “Not before you do,” I said and blew him a kiss.

  His eyes fell to my lips and held steady even as he said, “Care to make it interesting?”

  “How so?”

  “Whoever begs for it first can never have it with anyone else.” I was ready to laugh, to agree, to decline—I didn’t know—when he added, “For as long as they live.”

  “That’s a pretty big promise. What if you’re bad in bed?”

  “What if I’m not?” he countered.

  Our gazes connected and held for so long my body felt hot enough to combust at any moment. I knew then that I was willing to take that risk for one night with him. “Deal.”

  He nodded unceremoniously, blinked until the lust I knew I hadn’t imagined was gone, and said, “Good. Let’s go,” as if we hadn’t just finished discussing fucking one day.

  “That’s it?”

  He paused on the threshold of the door. “I’d go down on you to seal the deal, but I’m not touching you until you have a shower.” He looked me over and said, “Maybe two or three.”

  “Fuck you.”

  “Oh, you’re gonna.” My stomach fluttered, and he must have seen something in my eyes because he suddenly frowned and said, “There will never be more between us than a fuck. I’m not someone you want to get too close to.” At my dumbfounded look, he added, “Do you understand?”

  Hell no. I didn’t understand.

  Why care if I ever fucked anyone else if he didn’t want more? Why offer friendship and then tell me to stay away?

  I felt like I had whiplash. I also wasn’t buying it.

  Before I could lash out, however, I stopped and wondered if I even wanted more.

  “I understand,” I agreed. We both heard the doubt in my voice, but thankfully, he didn’t speak on it. Suddenly, I felt out of my depth. I was too young to be having this conversation. I didn’t know the first thing about sex, and until Wren, I hadn’t considered finding out anytime sooner.

  Although a boy himself, I had the feeling Wren would be a patient albeit demanding teacher. Maybe we’d even learn together?

  Wren said he’d meet me outside before disappearing. I listened to his thundering footsteps until they faded before I grabbed my backpack and ducked into the bathroom. Even though I was out of clean laundry, the shower beckoned. Hearing Wren’s comments echoing around in my head, I blushed as I shed my clothes and hopped inside. I scrubbed my skin as hard as I dared under the hot water and even took longer than usual brushing my teeth and detangling my hair. When I finally made it downstairs, I found Wren standing by the door, catching a key ring that Shane threw to him with one hand while holding his cell phone to his ear with the other.

  Noticing me, he sharply ordered “Just get here” into the phone before hanging up.

  I offered a hesitant good morning to Shane, who didn’t bother returning the greeting and, instead, stared at me as if I were already on a witness stand. Clattering was coming from the kitchen along with the sound of a little boy and girl screaming for French toast.

  “I better get in there and help Beth,” Shane grumbled. He then pointed a thick finger at Wren and added, “I want a full report of what the fuck happened last night. Thanks to that prude he keeps around, the boss is already in a crabby mood. You hear me, boy?”

  Wren nodded halfheartedly before focusing on me. He jerked his head toward the door, telling me that it was time to go, but I couldn’t make my feet move. What if he’d been lying about shopping—although I still didn’t know for what—and he was actually taking me somewhere to kill me? Would they ever find my body?

  Of course not, Valentine. He’s Exiled.

  Growing impatient, he crossed the room, took my hand, and led me out into the cold morning. To my credit, I didn’t kick and scream although I really should have. The houses on the block were close together, which meant someone would hear me. Unless they were too afraid…

  There were about six inches of snow on the ground, and it seemed the entire neighborhood was out shoveling snow from their walkway or scraping ice off their windshields. Wren approached a running silver Toyota Tacoma and ordered me to get in.

  “You’re taking me somewhere to kill me, aren’t you?” I asked in a hushed tone over the hood.

  He stopped and turned to me with his eyebrows bunched. “What?”

  I clutched the straps of my backpack tighter. “I’m a loose end, so you have to kill me. It’s in the gangster handbook.” The blank stare he gave me didn’t make me feel any better. I frowned. “Don’t you guys have like a code or something?”

  His head cocked to the side. “If you believe I plan to kill you, why do you care if the neighbors know about it?”

/>   “Why the hell would you think I cared?”

  “You’re whispering, mouse.” I could tell he was holding in a laugh, which only added to my humiliation.

  “Oh.”

  “I’m not going to hurt you,” he said after a long, uncomfortable silence.

  My gaze fell to the ground, and I sounded heartbroken when I said, “I don’t believe you.”

  I heard the snow crunch, and then his large booted feet appeared in front of me. A cold finger lifted my chin, and then my teary gaze met his stormy one. “I promise.”

  My next breath and “Okay” rushed out of me.

  He stared at me for a few seconds longer, and I had a feeling he was looking for any remaining doubt. Finding none, he moved around me, opened the passenger door, and waited for me to hop in before closing the door. I watched him walk back around the truck to his side, and the expression he wore told me he wasn’t happy with himself. My gut told me it was because he’d made a promise he shouldn’t keep.

  “So,” I said as I buckled in, “what are we shopping for, Renny?”

  His head whipped around, and he frowned. “Renny?”

  “You dishonor my name, I dishonor yours.”

  His eyebrows wrinkled. “What’s wrong with Lou?”

  “What’s wrong with Renny?”

  “It’s stupid.”

  “I concur.” I smiled innocently.

  He winced and backed out of the driveway. Neither of us spoke until he pulled into a shopping center ten minutes away. There were a ton of people already out, probably scavenging for last-minute supplies. What we got last night was mild, although it would have had those pussies in the south running for the hills or boarding up their houses. I silently cursed when I counted the days until spring and realized we still had six more weeks of winter.

  He hopped out, and I followed him across the parking lot. I grew self-conscious of my appearance when we walked into a clothing store, and I noticed the dirty looks directed my way. Wren seemed oblivious as he headed for a rack of coats in the women’s section. I had trouble swallowing as I wondered about the girl he was buying a jacket for. A foreign feeling washed over me, and I knew it had to be jealousy. If he turned around right now, I wouldn’t be able to hide it, and the part of me without pride wanted him to see it.