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

by B. B. Reid

  “What the fuck are you wearing?”

  “What?” She glanced down at her tank top in confusion. “What’s wrong with my shirt?”

  “Nothing if you’re trying to send a message.” My voice lowered to a whisper. “Are you sending a message, Lou?”

  “Get a grip, Harlan. I’ve had this shirt since I was nine.”

  I highly fucking doubted it. The fucking thing read ‘Take me to bed or lose me forever.’ The only thing keeping it from being a complete fucking come-on was the brown teddy bear next to it—unless you were into that sort of thing.

  Then another thought—one that had me shooting up from the hood of my car—occurred to me. “I want to see the rest.”

  “Pardon me?” she questioned, feigning modesty. Her wide-set eyes, however, did nothing to deter me. There was no way I could dismiss what she was wearing, and I had a feeling she expected no less from me. She probably planned it to get my attention.

  “Pan the camera down now. Let me see you.”

  She hesitated for all of three seconds before she did what she was told, and I pretended my cock didn’t take notice. I cursed when my suspicions were confirmed. Lou had been telling the truth all right. Judging by the way her breasts strained against the cotton and the sliver of skin peeking from underneath the hem, she’d also outgrown the shirt.

  How the hell had she’d gotten away with it? Didn’t the school have some kind of policy? I asked her as much.

  “I’ve been wearing my jacket all day,” she whispered before rolling her blue eyes.

  “Put it on.”

  She blinked twice. “What?”

  “Put. It. On.”

  “But it’s hot,” she whined, forgetting she was in class. A moment later, a woman was standing over her shoulder with her arms crossed, and I didn’t get to hear much before the call ended, but I did catch a glimpse of the sly grin on Lou’s face.

  She thought she’d won.

  Running my hand down my face, I tried to talk myself out of what I was about to do. Twenty minutes later, after breaking every traffic law written, I stalked the halls of West Bridge High, hunting my best friend.

  “MISS VALENTINE,” MY TEACHER SAID the moment I hung up on Wren, “the bell doesn’t dismiss you. I dismiss you.” I was thinking up an equally clichéd response when she added, “In your case, it seems you couldn’t at least wait for the bell.”

  “I’m really sorry, teach. That was my daddy.” A few of my classmates snickered. “He gets a little growly when he’s worried.”

  “Miss Valentine, I am fully aware of your situation and know very well that wasn’t your father on the phone. However, in the note I’ll be sending home to your foster parents informing them of your detention, I’ll be sure to include the school’s office number in the case of an emergency.”

  “Detention?” My head jerked back. “But it’s the last day of school!”

  A chorus of sympathetic groans and not-so-sympathetic laughter erupted. She silenced them with a warning look before refocusing on me.

  “I’m sorry, Miss Valentine. It looks like your summer vacation will be starting a little late.” She touched my shoulder gently before walking back to the front of the class and resuming the lesson that she wouldn’t bother grading.

  I sighed, relieved that she hadn’t taken my phone, and texted Wren.

  I got detention. I hope you’re happy.

  Twenty-minutes later, the bell rang, and I still had no response from Wren. As the teacher wished us a good summer, we all filed out to head to our last class of the year.

  The volume in the hall was louder than usual even though there was significantly less traffic. The seniors all skipped and most of the lower classmen with them. Even goody-two-shoes Eliza had faked a cold and stayed home in bed. My attendance today, including my perfect attendance over the past few weeks, was one of the conditions of my advancement to senior year. If it weren’t for Wren, I would have dropped out a year ago. He insisted I stay in school, and as always, I couldn’t find it in my heart to resist him. If only…

  I shook the thought off just as I felt a punishing grip on my arm. I didn’t get a chance to see who it was until they pulled me into the nearest empty classroom.

  “What the hell is your problem?” I ripped my arm away and rubbed the spot knowing there would probably be a mark. I wasn’t as worried about the bruise as I was explaining it to an already irate Wren. I knew he wouldn’t waste the opportunity to come around barking orders after the conversation we’d had. After staying away for two weeks, raising his blood pressure was the only way to get his attention. He was stubborn, but I was determined.

  “Why haven’t you returned any of my texts?”

  I hid my blush behind a glare. Dean Daniels was the entire hot guy package—blond, blue-eyed, chiseled jaw, and charming smile. He was also rumored to be the school’s first pick for quarterback next year. With those arms and pecs, it was easy to see why. Dean looked and acted like your average boy next door only way hotter and way cooler. And…he had a huge crush on me. No one knew why, least of all me.

  Crossing my arms over my chest, I casually leaned against the door as if my heart weren’t racing. “It’s a little impossible to return what I didn’t get.”

  “You expect me to believe that?” he shot back.

  “Do you see me giving you any other choice?”

  He glared at me for a few seconds longer before dropping his gaze and smiling shyly at the floor. “I’m sorry for being a dick. It’s just that you confuse me, Lou. Girls usually treat me like their world revolves around me. You don’t seem to care if I exist in yours or not.”

  “I…care.”

  “Really? You don’t sound too sure.”

  I frowned knowing he wasn’t just insecure. Dean was nice, crazy hot, and he didn’t hurt innocent people for a living. I should have been one of those girls who drew hearts around our names in my notebook or sighing every time he passed me in the hall. Why wasn’t I? It wasn’t as if his attention had zero effect on me. I’d have to be blind. However, all I truly felt was flattered. Unfortunately, flattery wasn’t enough to get him in my pants. Thank God.

  “I don’t want to get my hopes up,” I said placatingly. “You just broke up with Cora, and you’ve been with her forever. Are you sure it’s over?” Besides the fact that Cora still blamed me for her slightly crooked nose, I wasn’t in any rush to give her more ammunition to hate me by dating her ex-boyfriend. I wasn’t the least bit afraid of her, but I preferred keeping my head down. A lion on the hunt wouldn’t let their prey see them before the kill.

  Just as the bell rang, Dean reached out and pulled me close. Dropping my arms, I let him press me against his chest, and I tilted my head back since he towered over me. He was even taller than Wren, making me wonder why he didn’t go for basketball instead of football. At his height, he could probably just drop the ball in the basket.

  “She’s catty, self-centered, and not all that bright. Trust me. It’s over.”

  He leaned down, and I knew right then he was going to kiss me. Suddenly, my hands were shaking as they fisted his letterman jacket. He’d be my first. Did he know? Did I even want him to be?

  Sadly, I didn’t get the chance to find out. I blinked in stunned surprise at the large hand that came out of nowhere and gripped Dean’s face like those facehuggers from Alien before he was pushed—no, thrown across the room, crashing into desks on his way down.

  My first thought was that a teacher had discovered us and had one hell of an overreaction. However, that theory was quickly laid to rest when Dean’s assailant turned, and I was held hostage by blue-gray eyes.

  “Wren?” I gasped. And then my shock cleared, and I screamed, “Are you out of your mind? What the hell are you doing here?”

  “I could ask you the same.” He jerked his head toward the door. “School’s over. Go wait in the car.”

  I propped my hand on my hips and stood my ground. Behind Wren, Dean groaned as he struggled
to stand. I wanted to run over and help him, but I knew that would only make things worse for Dean. “School isn’t over for another hour.”

  Wren stalked the two or three steps it took for him to stand toe-to-toe with me. “It is for you, so go wait in my fucking car.”

  “Yeah, curse and growl at me. That will make me move faster.”

  He smirked. “Fine.” He took a step back. “Have it your way, little Valentine.” Turning, he headed straight for Dean. His hand was reaching behind him for the gun I knew was at his waist.

  He wouldn’t.

  Surely, he knew he couldn’t.

  It was beyond reckless and cruel—even for Wren.

  “When it comes to you, Louchana, I can’t be reasoned with. You make me lose control.”

  Those were the words he said to me after he found me getting slapped around by some guy whose wallet I didn’t even remember stealing. The guy had obviously remembered me, though, judging by the split lip he’d given me. The broken jaw he limped away with had definitely cost him more than a few stolen bucks, though.

  I shoved aside the memory and rushed to grab Wren’s hand. “Wait!”

  He paused just a foot away from Dean, who was already on his knees looking seconds from pissing himself. When Wren looked over his shoulder expectantly, I mumbled, “I’ll go, asshole. Just leave him alone.”

  I squeezed his fingers when he simply stared back, and he sighed. “Now, Lou.”

  With one last apologetic glance at Dean, I reluctantly headed for the door, more than certain he’d never speak to me again. Dean wasn’t the first guy Wren had run off, but he had, by far, incurred the worst of Wren’s wrath.

  Another one bites the dust.

  Stepping into the empty hall, I wondered at my smile that had somehow slipped free. I told myself that it was just his determination to protect me that caused it. No way was he jealous and no way was the fluttering in my belly butterflies.

  Wren didn’t take long to follow. Seated in the passenger seat of the Impala, I had my headphones in, happily humming along to ‘You’re My Best Friend’ by Queen when he emerged from the school. Hopping in, he cranked the car until it roared and drove away without a word.

  Wren didn’t immediately take me home. Instead, I perked up when he pulled into a familiar parking lot, and I saw the sign for Roll Down. I hopped out the moment he’d parked and was already making a mad dash for the door when I felt his hand grip my arm gently but firmly…as if he knew exactly how to touch me.

  Wren - 1

  Dean - 0

  Not that I was keeping score because, of course, there was no actual competition. Wren was my best friend, and the line that hadn’t been present the night we met was firmly drawn.

  “Not so fast. Where’s your jacket?”

  “I told you,” I said as I stomped my foot, “it’s too hot.”

  His gaze narrowed, and I quickly shifted my own. “There was no jacket, was there?”

  “Of course!” I said as I looked any and everywhere but him. “Why would I lie?”

  “Then where is it, Lou? I don’t recall seeing you with one.”

  I pursed my lips. “I must have lost it during all the drama you caused.”

  I could feel him burning a hole in the side of my face but refused to meet his gaze. After a few seconds, he turned on his heel without a word and stomped back to his car. I impatiently waited where he left me and watched as he popped open the trunk and produced one of his many plain white T-shirts. Walking back over to me, he held out the shirt. “Put this on.”

  “I can’t wear your shirt, Wren. That thing will swallow me!”

  “Then it’s too bad you can’t shrink this, too.”

  My jaw nearly kissed the pavement. “I did not shrink my shirt.”

  “Well, it didn’t shrink itself. You barely look like you can lift your arms.”

  “Because I grew boobs, you jackass!”

  His gaze fell to my chest, and the look in his eyes made my body temperature hot enough to boil lava. “I’m well aware.”

  Tossing me his shirt, he stalked for the entrance of the skating rink. Knowing there was no chance in hell he’d let me skate without the cover of his shirt, I huffed and yanked it over my head. However, the moment I caught a whiff of his scent and realized the shirt smelled like him, my grumbling came to an immediate halt. I was transported to nirvana. Completely exalted. I wanted to roll around in it until I was covered in his scent. Unfortunately, I had to settle for lifting a handful of the shirt to my nose.

  Wren didn’t wear cologne, yet he always managed to smell so damn good and manly. If his scent was ever bottled, I had the perfect suggestion for a name—Forbidden Fruit.

  Incidentally, that sobered me up quickly.

  The minute the euphoria faded, I looked around for Wren, hoping he hadn’t seen me sniffing his shirt like a bitch in heat and realized he must have already gone inside.

  I sighed. One of these days, I’d have no choice but to relieve the tension building inside me. And Wren…well, he’d just have to step aside and be okay with that.

  Inside the building, I shivered at the cool air blasting on full power and wished I had brought a jacket. I looked around the dark skating rink, the only light coming from the colorful spotlights above and spotted Wren on one of the black leather couches shoving on a pair of black skates. My eyebrows touched my hairline in surprise. Usually, I’d have to beg and beg Wren to skate with me, and the answer was almost always no.

  “You’re skating?” I redundantly asked as I approached him on cautious feet.

  He shrugged without looking away from the laces he was busy tying. Feeling awkward and frustrated at the same time, I plopped down on the bench next to him and shoved on the much smaller white pair he knew I loved. I used to have my own, but that was a long time ago. Wren stood after he finished lacing up his skates, and I half expected him to start without me, but he didn’t. Instead, he knelt in front of me and took over lacing mine up when my stupid hands wouldn’t stop trembling. The moment he finished, he stood and held out his hand. I slid my hand into his warm palm just as the first strings of ‘After You’ by Meg Myers began playing through the speakers. He skated backward, leading me past the low barrier, and the moment our skates touched the maple floor, I started to pull my hand away. My stomach dipped when, instead of letting me go, he gripped me tighter, and I watched the colorful lights dance around his face as we skated around the empty rink. Neither of us said a word or looked away.

  “Are you mad at me?” I finally asked after the song ended.

  “I’m mad at myself.”

  “Why?”

  He shook his head and blew out air. “It’s complicated.”

  “I promise I can keep up.”

  His hand fell to my waist, and he pulled me closer, and I knew it was a reflex when he said, “It’s also dangerous.”

  “I’m not afraid.”

  His eyes seemed to glow, and I told myself it was the lights. “You should be.”

  “Why would I be afraid when I have you to protect me?”

  “Because someday, it might be me you need protecting from.”

  My eyebrows knitted. “Did something bad happen…” I looked around before saying, “At work?”

  He shook his head. “No more than usual.”

  I was careful not to let my relief show. “Then you have nothing to worry about. You’re not as easily corrupted as you think, Wren Harlan.” I gripped his shirt and stood on the tips of my toes until my lips brushed his ear. “Neither am I.”

  Pushing away from him, I began skating in earnest, drawing figure eights and twirling until I felt the weight gradually lift from my shoulders. Wren trailed after me, watching every move I made with a fascinated gleam in his eyes. I also knew he was watching like a hawk for anyone who came or went and made sure I didn’t frolic too far away.

  I felt protected and free while, at the same time, I felt overwhelming sadness for Wren. No matter how much I hoped, he migh
t never be free of the corruption, paranoia, and guilt.

  When was the last time Wren felt like a kid, lived without such a heavy burden on his shoulders? He was only nineteen, and so far, he’d seen and done more than people twice his age and not all of it good. At that moment, I wanted nothing more than to bring warmth and light in his cold, dark world. To remind him there was more to life, more to him than death and cruelty.

  Across the rink, I caught Wren’s eye and smiled. His gaze turned suspicious—a testament to how well he knew me. A moment later, I skated toward him at full speed.

  “What the hell are you doing?” he shouted. I could hear the panic in his voice, and my smile grew.

  “Catch me!”

  “Goddammit, Lou!” he roared as he raced to meet me halfway.

  I shouldn’t have enjoyed the frantic look on his face or his desperation to keep me from getting hurt as much as I did, but a satisfying heat bloomed in my belly anyway. Wren cared more than a best friend probably should. Maybe like a brother?

  Whatever the reason, I wanted more of it—of this and him. I wanted Wren to feel alive, and I wanted him to live. For himself as much as for me.

  We both reached the center at the same time, and I didn’t give myself a chance to reconsider before I launched myself into the air and into his arms. Strong, capable hands caught me just like I knew he would, but then he seemed to lose his balance and went crashing to the floor, taking me with him. My shriek was cut off by the impact of his body breaking my fall. The sound of Wren hitting the floor echoed over the music, making me cringe. He grunted and then groaned, and I could only imagine the pain he was in.

  “Are you okay?” I lifted as much as I dared without hurting him further. “Did I break you?”

  He froze and then stared into my eyes for so long I forgot that I’d even asked a question until he answered. “Not yet.”

  Those words seemed to mean more than he intended, causing me to squint as if he’d just posed a difficult math question. “What do you me—”

  “Hey, are you guys okay?”