Beautiful Burn

by Adriane Leigh

  “I love it,” she mused as she stood, eyes big, while she took it in.

  The bright white, clapboard lighthouse on the shores of Old Mission Point was always a sight to behold, but if you stood in this exact spot as the sun dipped in the sky at just the right angle, the old building seemed to be lit with flames. The orange rays of the setting sun reflected off the crisp white and seemed to glow, slowly enveloping the structure in a fiery effect that progressed until the entire show faded as slowly as it'd come when the sun finally descended below the horizon line.

  “How have I not known about this? I mean, obviously I’ve been to the lighthouse before, but at sunset…” she trailed off. “I wonder if I can get it on my camera.”

  “Nope, no cameras.” I stopped the hand digging in her back pocket.

  “What?” She looked up at me with eyes all big and doey and confused.

  “Don’t worry about capturing it, worry about experiencing it.”

  “You’re insane.” She laughed, but still, her hand dropped. “Take me up close.” She smiled and locked our hands together, taking confident strides up the narrow, sandy path. The dune grass brushed our thighs as we walked, hand in hand, and my mind raged with one question: What the fuck was I doing?

  I was enjoying this moment. The last few years I’d been living in an oppressive cloud, and this, this was my first breath. My first possibly reckless moment since college and I was going to live it.

  “If you get much closer than this the fire effect fades.” I stopped her, our feet sliding in the sand and making a soft rasping noise.

  “Close your eyes.” Her eyes fluttered closed almost instantly. “Now imagine it's 1920, the Isle of Skye.” I murmured in her ear, lulling her with my low, melodic tone. “You vacation here every summer, in the same beachside house, and you look at this lighthouse every day.”

  “‘To the Lighthouse’?” she breathed. I knew she'd catch my reference to Virginia Woolf's classic novel.

  “Imagine the burning desire to see it up close, to touch it with your own hands.” My gaze hovered on the creamy skin at her nape. “But the path is too rocky and the waves are too wild to cross. It's impossible. You're only ever left looking. Wanting...” I trailed one light finger across the sensitive flesh that begged for my touch.

  “It sounds like hell,” she sighed, her eyes fluttering closed when goosebumps erupted across her skin. She was so sensual, so beautiful, so attuned to me like I was to her, I wanted to kiss her. I wanted to taste the skin on her neck, sweet with the taste of her sweat-dampened skin. Every primal urge that’d been buried deep inside me exploded and the tenuous restraint I'd possessed slipped through my weak fingers.

  I dropped her hand from mine and as if linked by the same marionette line, we turned to face each other. With shallow breaths and tentative fingertips, I trailed up the bronzed skin of her arms to land at her exposed collarbone. My eyes bore into hers, seeking permission, begging for acceptance, as my thumbs ghosted along her jawline and my fingers wove into her thick hair.

  Her throat muscles pulled taut as she swallowed, her eyes swimming with emotion I couldn't even begin to understand. Slowly, agonizingly slowly, I leaned in, my lips seeking hers. We'd been so far apart these last years that it was a shock to have her here -- the million miles that had existed in the space between us now closed to a distance of just centimeters.

  My lips brushed with hers and as if an atom bomb had dropped, every cell in my body exploded and hummed with pleasure. I pressed closer, confident that she wouldn't push me away when her palms splayed across the broad angles of my chest.

  The slow, tentative kiss consumed us. Before long my tongue was thrusting between her lips and finally -- finally -- I knew what she tasted like – decadent caramel, subtle vanilla, and a hint of menthol from her cigarette. Her taste was natural, both sweet and minty, and as addictive as cocaine to an addict. Because I was already crossing more lines than I'd vowed ever to cross, I pulled away, savoring the taste of her on my tongue. My eyes scanned the soft angles of her face, the dark eyelashes shadowed across high cheekbones, lips so perfectly full and elegantly-shaped they could have been created by a sculptor’s masterful hand.

  When her eyes fluttered open to meet my gaze, I spoke. “Imagine wanting something so badly, you're consumed with yearning, seeing something every single day, knowing you can never do more than look.”

  Even in the muted light of sunset, I could see the crimson coloring the apples of her cheeks, the fire in her eyes. She remembered, and she wanted this as badly as me “Are we still talking about the lighthouse?” she finally breathed.

  “That's your inspiration.” I couldn't keep the flirty grin from my face.

  “That was certainly something.” She quipped and turned back to the lighthouse. Auburn's eyes swept the weather-worn fencing that enclosed the old structure, where only a small sandy path allowed entrance. “I can't believe you just kissed me.” Her fingertips were trailing across her tender lips, as if reliving the feeling of our kiss.

  A small smile was turning the corners of her lips when I reached out, my hand seeking hers again. “Life is short.” I replied with astounding sincerity. Her head turned to meet mine, and she finally allowed the stubborn smile she'd been trying to hide break into a full grin.

  “My point in all of this was...” I interlaced our fingers as I spoke, “story isn’t about place. It’s not about the climax or the resolution; it’s about the emotion that connects all of us.”

  “Hmm…” She cocked her head and pursed her lips. “I like that,” she said softly. “Maybe I'll go with that.” The excitement rose in her voice. She tapped her lips in a way that she knew was silly before she laughed and pushed me in the shoulder, throwing me off balance as she darted around me, hair flying and laugh floating on the wind. She looked the part of a beautiful, composed young woman, but her unique and endearing, playful sense of humor reminded me that life wasn't all bad. There were still beautiful, lighthearted moments to be had, if I chose to grasp them.

  “Is that how you repay the man that inspired you?!” I scoffed when I’d finally caught her. I held her lightly in my arms, enough to keep her steady, enough for her to feel the raging hard on settled in my cargo shorts.

  “You give yourself too much credit.” Her laugh shot straight to my soul and lit my nerve-endings like firecrackers.

  I smiled when I realized she could shit on me for the rest of my life and I’d be the happiest man alive.

  “Is that so?” I caught my breath as I looked down at her. She glanced up at me with amusement surrounded by a veil of wild, dark hair. The way the setting sun caressed the muted angles of her face impressed me like a work of art might impress another. High cheekbones accentuated her round, slightly-too-large eyes and dark eyebrows and the full cupid's bow of her lips.

  “Yup.” She grinned and crossed her arms, teasing. Suddenly I was more aware of my hands at her waist, settled on her hips. I pulled away and grasped for my good sense, which was always escaping me at the most dire of times. I wanted to kiss her again, but I also wanted to keep my job, letting this go any further than it already had would spell trouble for both of us.

  I ran a hand through my dirty-blond hair. “We should head back.”

  “Okay.” She retreated, giving me the space she must have sensed I needed. We headed back the way we'd come and a few minutes later we were back in the boat and rowing towards the little stretch of coastline we called home.

  “Told you Michigan had a lot to offer,” I finally interrupted the silence.

  “I feel enlightened.” She grinned, teasing. “I don't remember you being so active a few years ago.”

  “I grew up doing a lot of this stuff, but when when I got married I had less and less time. When things started to get bad a few years ago,” I paused, working at the persistent ache in my shoulder. “I found it was a good escape. When Mel gets on a subject, she likes to beat it to death. Out here on the water was about the only place I
could find peace.” I ended.

  “I'm sorry.” She placed a hand on my forearm, her dark eyes connecting with mine. I appreciated the chance to slow my rowing and enjoy these moments with her. “My parents used to fight all the time when I was a kid, even after the divorce they were always in and out of court arguing about custody. It was awful. I remember watching Peter Pan on repeat as a kid and wishing a magical world existed where kids never grew up and didn't have parents screaming and hating each other.” The emotion in her voice left my heart bleeding for the young girl she'd been.

  “I knew your parents were divorced, but I never knew it was that bad...” I set the oar across my lap and twined my fingers with hers.

  “It's so much better now. Don't get me wrong, they're still tough as nails, but at least they're not fighting over me anymore.” Her voice cracked and tears pooled in her eyes.

  “If I would have known...”

  “You would have rescued me?” A bittersweet smile lifted her cheeks.

  “I would have done something.” My eyes held her, oozing sympathy and concern.

  “I had books,” she smiled fondly. “Books saved me. Getting lost in stories allowed me to drown out the screaming most of the time,” she ended, softly, pulling away and casting her gaze out to the shoreline, lit with glowing house lights in the dark night.

  “Still, I wish you would have told me,” I murmured as I started rowing again, conscious of moving at a slower pace to give my body the rest it screamed for.

  “I wish I would have had a kayak to escape out on the water.” She stretched her arms behind her.

  I nodded somberly, wishing I would have known back then she was struggling at home, but what I would have done, I wasn't even sure. “We should go kayaking.” I offered, thankful that I was here for her now.

  “I’d go anywhere with you.” Her words stopped me in my tracks. The paddles in my hands suddenly fell limp. I wasn't sure she’d meant for me to hear her last admission. But I had. I had heard her loud and clear.

  “Auburn, that kiss, I'm afraid it was a mistake. A relationship between us could cause a scandal, it could ruin my life and yours. I love more than anything else spending time with you, talking to you, but we can't cross that line again.”

  Her eyes held mine as she spoke, “I've waited too long, Reed. I've thought about you countless times since the last time I saw you three years ago. I didn't know if I'd ever see you again, and you were married! But coming back this summer, having you suddenly thrown back in my life, and you're separated from your wife, if there's something here...” she shifted in her seat and then caught my eyes, her's searing with passionate hesitation. “It feels like our timing is finally right.” She ended on a soft murmur.

  “Jesus, I feel the same way.” I clutched at the oars gripped in my hands until my knuckles ached. “But with all the media attention about teachers getting caught with students, it's a monumental risk. I have a teacher friend who scrubbed all her online profiles of anything remotely sexy, even photos she'd had from a bachelorette party in Vegas, she was so worried about losing her job. The barest hint of anything unprofessional, even with zero evidence, could ruin my life to hell and back.”

  “God, I know.” She ran a hand through her long dark strands and averted her eyes to the silver clouds drifting across the sky. “I've just never felt this kind of connection with anyone else.” She said, sadly.

  “Fuck. Me too.” I sighed, feeling more trapped than ever. “I wish we could, but there are so many things going on right now.” I ran a hand through my hair, wanting to explain it all to her, but I could hardly fathom it myself much less speak the words to another person. Auburn's face fell before she closed her eyes and stretched her arms above her head. She bent behind her and I watched the soft breeze rush over her body and catch in the threads of her hair. She was breathtaking, and her adventurous nature was something I’d often craved out of Mel. Mel was too controlled, too regimented. Nature made her uncomfortable. Frizzed her hair and made her sweat, she'd always said. So I’d taken to exploring Michigan on my own, but Mel had started to resent my being gone on the weekends, so I'd let that go too.

  I jumped into the water a few minutes later to pull the boat on shore when I turned and found Auburn had followed me out, shoes in hand. She dropped them with a damp thunk on the sand and turned to plop down. I arched an eyebrow in surprise. I'd gotten the sense that this night was over. I pulled the boat out of the water and sat down next to her. “Everything okay?”

  “Yeah.” She shrugged as she dragged her fingertips through the now twilight-lit sand.

  “Everything good with that guy?” I found myself suddenly wishing they'd broken up in the days it'd been since she'd introduced me. She had kissed me back, right? I hadn't just imagined her soft lips pressed against mine, had I?

  “Jake?” She looked to me in a flash, then dug through the pocket of her jeans. The cellophane around her cigarettes crackled as she rustled with it before pulling a slightly thinner cigarette out and lighting it. The heavy scent of weed filled my nostrils. I was surprised for half a second before it settled that nothing really surprised me with Auburn. She was predictably unpredictable and just when I thought I had her pegged, she turned my stereotypes upside down. “We're not serious,” she finally admitted. I only nodded, thankful for that.

  “So tell me what's going on inside that head of yours.” Something seemed to be bothering her, and I was dying for her to open up to me. Auburn had always been more reserved when it came to talking about her personal life, and had only mentioned details in passing, but now that we were both here, both adults, I wanted to know more. I wanted to know everything there was to know about her.

  She sighed. “It's been tough, helping my grandma since she had the stroke. She's in therapy three days a week, but progress is slow. It's so hard to see her get down on herself or disappointed when she can't do the things she used to do. She'll get through it, she's the toughest person I know, but it's hard to watch her struggling.” Auburn paused as she watched the cool waves licking at the tips of her toes. “When Grams had the stroke, I knew I couldn't stay away all summer. We’ve been so close for so long, seeing her those first few days in the hospital made me realize she won’t always be here. Whatever I was going to do at Central was nothing compared to talking books and reality shows and boys with Grams.”

  “Sounds like you've found the secret to life.”

  “What's that?”

  “The things that matter most are the relationships we have with the people we love. It’s all that remains in the end.”

  “Yeah,” she agreed as she gazed out at the shimmering water.

  “You know you can talk to me, about anything. Always.” I brushed the tips of her fingers, tracing anxious circles in the sand.

  “Thank you.” She said with sincerity.

  “Gonna share some of that?” I asked, jovially, sensing she needed the change of topic.

  “Always.” She passed me the joint. “Mr. West.” She grinned wickedly.

  “Don’t go there,” I admonished in sexy warning.

  “What? I’m a girl with manners and morals. I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She grinned the sexiest grin I’d ever seen grace a woman’s lips.

  I leaned in, close enough that my breath washed the skin at her neck as I spoke. “Is that why you’re out on the beach at night smoking a joint with your teacher?” I finished before inhaling a substance I hadn’t touched since college.

  I exhaled and watched as her breathing accelerated and her fingers dug into the sand at her sides. “He’s not my teacher anymore,” she finally answered.

  I took in another smooth hit of the tightly wrapped flower and exhaled, relaxing back on my arms to watch the lighthouse beam cutting through the murky darkness of night. The marijuana seeped into my system one cell at a time before it began to pulse and pound through my blood, intensifying every thought, every sight, every feeling.

  “That’s debatable
,” I finally replied. And with those words it dawned on me that she and I were twisted and wrapped up, an innocent history woven with a precarious present, and we were both getting off on it. It was hot.

  She was forbidden and dangerous -- we were playing with fire and would without a doubt get burned, but I couldn’t bring myself to leave. I was rooted and standing at the eve of my own destruction. My body raged at me to abandon my morals as my primal need to take and take and take until she was spent and used and hadn’t a drop left to give obsessed me. “Auburn?”

  “Yeah?” She turned, passed me the dwindling joint, and waited expectantly.

  “You should leave.” It was the last thing I wanted her to do, but I had to do this right. She deserved someone that could give everything to her and the realization that that could never be me was like a razor blade to my heart.

  Her great big, dark eyes stared back at me, refusing to break my gaze. “Why?” she said without fear or hesitation. “So we can ignore this feeling, these feelings we’ve ignored for years? I’m tired of acting like there isn’t anything between us.” She looked out to the water, light reflecting on the determination in her eyes. “Maybe I’m crazy, maybe you only see a teacher and an immature student with a crush. But I don’t think so.” If my heart wasn’t about to explode now it stood no chance when she turned back to me, placed one hand on my cheek and took a deep breath. “We have had a connection since our paths first met. I tried not to think about you, I tried to put those thoughts away, chalk them up to a crush, but I can’t. Seeing you again ignited the feelings in my soul, right or wrong. When you kissed me it was like the last three years apart fell away. How can this be wrong?” Pulling her hand away, I flinched at the loss. “Tell me. if this is a simple crush or you are only here out of some misplaced sense of loyalty, obligation, or fuck! I don’t know, ego, please tell me now, Reed.” My blood thickened in my veins and heated me from the inside out. Everything I had thought and felt, I should have known she'd felt it too. The pull between us was too strong not to be shared. I was about to pull her towards me when she looked up and asked the question. That one underlying, life changing, dangerous, question. “Is this real?”