Playing with Fire_Shen

by Shen, L. J.

  Not about my parents, my hookups, my so-called friends …

  “Be a decent human?” she offered sarcastically.

  “Anything within my capabilities?” I cracked a joke, testing my audience. She slammed her gloved hands over the toppings bar, starting to clean each individual container.

  “Why did you say yes?” I asked. I should’ve just let her stay for coffee when Mom had been here. Bit the bullet. Had my secret spill out. Then spent the rest of my life trying to win her approval back when she realized what I’d done.

  “Why not?” she huffed.

  “You don’t like Easton.”

  “I didn’t like you either. Then I did, for a while. Opinions change. Constantly.”

  Something weird and unwelcome happened in my chest when she said that.

  Candy apple dipped with poison.

  Good news: She liked me.

  Bad news: I’d fucked it up.

  “You’ll regret it,” I warned. But I didn’t know that. East could step up this time and take her seriously. Then what? I couldn’t watch them together. I couldn’t even imagine her holding hands with someone else.

  “Maybe.” She bypassed me, holding a silver container as she headed for the trash. “But I regretted ever knowin’ you, too, and know what? I still survived.”

  West

  “It’s confirmed—Appleton wants a rematch.” Max plopped down in front of me in the cafeteria, clutching his lunch in his greasy fingers.

  I was trying to figure out what the fuck was in the sandwich I’d purchased five minutes earlier from the canteen. I’d spent a good portion of my time on earth hating on Easton’s soggy omelet sandwiches; I hadn’t considered cafeteria food was far worse.

  But Easton’s sandwiches weren’t on the menu for me anymore. Having them would require talking to Easton, and as of the last three days, we were officially beefing.

  At first, my ex-best friend had the audacity to act like nothing had happened.

  He’d tried to talk to me about football, then about a few campus rumors, then about how Tess had been going around telling people she got her Tarot cards read and apparently, she’d been told she’d marry a guy from Maine.

  I adopted Grace’s strategy and treated him like he was air.

  I’d live off mud and ingrown nails before speaking to the traitor. Even when he pointed out that I’d given him explicit permission to date Tex, I didn’t relent. He’d obviously pursued her to piss me off.

  Mission accomplished—I was toeing the line of decapitating him.

  “A rematch?” I elevated an eyebrow, scanning Max like I needed to scrub him off of the bottom of my boots. “Last time we fought, he and his friends blackmailed you, if I’m not mistaken.”

  I was never mistaken.

  Max chuckled, ruffling his mane of fuzzy red hair, which reminded me of those metal pads people used to clean industrial skillets.

  “I mean, yeah, but I still made three times more than I would on a normal night. You win some, you lose some, right?”

  I slam-dunked my sandwich into the trash, opting to pluck a bag of Cheetos from Max’s hand. He made no move to reclaim it. I popped it open and threw a Cheeto into my mouth, eyeballing him.

  “Asshole tried to claw my eyes out.”

  “Yeah, he was a little desperate to win. Had something to prove.” Max stroked his pimply chin. “But the pay would be at least double this time. Emotions were running high last time. Word of mouth alone would allow us to up our charge on the tickets, and that’s without concessions.”

  I did the math in my head. The number made my mouth water. It was high enough for me to be able to pay off my parents’ loan, which was currently suffocating the hell out of them.

  I’d finally get them off my case and give them what they’d always wanted—enough money to start over. Bonus points? I’d be out of their lives for good.

  Sure, Kade Appleton was about as honorable as a used thong, and I was pretty certain he’d been following me around town, or at least sending someone else to do the dirty job for him, but I’d taken down guys three times his size, while I was in various levels of intoxication.

  “Heard he’s been running his mouth about me,” I said.

  “Can’t say he hasn’t. Ever since he lost the Vegas gig, he’s been a bit of a Bitter Betty. Fighting is all he really knows how to do.”

  He was pretty good at whining, too.

  “What’s in it for him?” I jerked my chin toward my bookie.

  “His pride,” Max crowed, throwing his arms in the air. “You annihilated him. Knocked his lights out for thirty seconds straight. Then he argued and fussed about it like a pussy.”

  The ‘like’ had no business being in that sentence. He was a pussy. End of story.

  I finished Max’s Cheetos and cracked open his can of Coke, taking a gulp and running my tongue over my teeth.

  “I’m gonna have to set some ground rules.”

  “Such as?”

  “Record the whole thing, so the asshole won’t make excuses when I obliterate him.”

  “That’s fair. I’ll pass on the message.”

  “And winner takes all.”

  “All the money?”

  I crushed the empty Coke can in my fist, tossing it into the trash without aiming. “You’ll get your bookie cut.”

  I’d done some digging after my fight with Appleton and found out just how much of a shady jackass he was. Blackmail, dog fighting, stalking, and domestic assault took a huge chunk of his internet presence. But the money was too good to pass up. I didn’t mind breaking a rib or two. Hell, dying wouldn’t be so awful either. It wasn’t like anyone around truly gave a crap.

  “One last thing—no funny business this time. If I catch him trying to shove fingers into my eye sockets, mouth, or ass, I’m breaking every bone in his body. No exceptions.” I pointed at Max.

  He nodded, his tongue almost lapping out. A rabid dog after a meaty bone.

  “Sure thing. So, can I tell Shaun it’s on?”

  Shaun. I remembered the useless sack of muscles. He looked like every murderer in an eighties movie. A flashback of the moment I got out of the Plaza and heard murmurs from the bushes assaulted my memory. I pushed it away.

  And so what if I was being followed? The outcome of the fight didn’t make much difference to me. If they killed me before the fight, tough luck. If not, at least I’d be able to detonate his ass, take the money, give it to my parents and throw them out of my life for good.

  “Make it happen.” I rapped the table between us, getting up to leave.

  I had a feeling this was going to implode.

  Luckily, I didn’t care.

  I showed up to work fifteen minutes early. Karlie was there, standing in Texas’ station, filling the bar with sour cream, guacamole, and fajitas. I slouched off my backpack, scowling at her ass.

  “What’re you doing here?”

  What I’d meant to ask was, where in God’s name was Texas? Had she stopped taking shifts with me now?

  I’d apologized. What more did she need? Chocolate and flowers?

  Chocolate and flowers. My brain had officially left the building. My dick, however, was in the house and calling all the shots. I wasn’t buying anyone chocolate. Or flowers. Or matching purity rings, goddammit. Tex was just a friend. All I wanted was to have her back as one and, if possible, not get asked by Easton to be the best man at their wedding. Unless he wanted his bride stolen.

  Karlie looked up from the sour cream she was pouring, sweeping her intelligent eyes over me. “Grace got the day off.”

  “I can see that. Why?”

  She set the empty sour cream container aside, wiping her hands over her turquoise That Taco Truck apron.

  “I’m sorry, how is it any of your business?” She elevated a manicured eyebrow. That was a good question. I wasn’t entirely sure how to answer that. I just knew it was.

  “I’m guessing she shared details about our last hang out with you,” I
quipped.

  “You’re guessing correctly. A few days late, but I’m now in the loop.”

  “And I’m guessing you are not deeply impressed with me at the moment.”

  “Also correct. Wow. It’s your lucky day. You should be buying lottery tickets right about now.” She blew a raspberry.

  “You’re fucking hilarious, Contreras.”

  “And you’re a fucking douchebag,” she quipped back.

  “Tell me something I don’t know.”

  “Are you sure?” She smiled tauntingly. “’Cause I got a few things I know that might be of interest to you and will spoil your mood.”

  I immediately saw what she was getting at.

  I turned around, locked the door, then folded my arms and leaned against it, staring her down.

  “Is this supposed to scare me?”

  “Only if you don’t tell me where she is.”

  I had an inkling Grace had gone out with Easton. I also had an inkling Easton was getting murdered tonight by yours truly.

  “Get comfortable. Because I ain’t gonna do that.”

  “I’ll give you free tickets to the fight next Friday.”

  “Oh my God, really?” Karlie put her hands on her heart, squeaking. Her smile dropped immediately. “Hard pass. The beer is gross and you’re not that important.”

  I racked my brain to figure out what a girl like Karlie might want in return for information. The answer was obvious. Dick. She wanted to hook up, like everyone else in college. She was with Texas’ crowd. Meaning, she hung out with Bible-thumping virgins who treated the other sex like they were mythical creatures, only to be admired from afar.

  Of course. A Bible-thumping girl would go for the whitest, most middle-class guy on campus. I remembered the night Karlie and Grace came to see me fight.

  “I’ll throw in a good word with Miles Covington.”

  “You don’t know Miles Covington.”

  “He’s my errand boy.”

  He wasn’t, but I knew him well enough to get him to take her out if need be. Hell, for the right price, I’d have him marry Little Einstein.

  She rolled her eyes, her shoulders dropping with a sigh.

  “Well, it’s not really a secret, anyway. I just wanted to mess with you.” She excused herself.

  I leaned forward, giving her my full attention.

  “She went to the movies.” Karlie jutted her chin out. “With Easton Braun.”

  There was only one movie theater in this godforsaken town.

  I turned around and dashed out, bailing on my shift.

  “Hey! Where are you going?” she hollered after me. “I can’t do this on my own!”

  “Have a little faith,” I yelled back.

  I was getting the fucking girl.

  Whether I deserved her or not.

  When the teenager with the retainer and unfortunate dad bod asked me what movie I wanted to see behind the box office glass, I pointed at the one with Kate Hudson on the poster.

  “M—Mona Lisa a—and the Blood Moon?” he sputtered, pushing his thick glasses up the bridge of his nose.

  “Problem?” I drawled.

  The kid shook his head, his shoulders quaking with a suppressed laugh. He was about to get a front row seat to How to Lose an Eye in Ten Seconds if he wasn’t careful.

  I grabbed the ticket and got into the theater forty minutes into the movie. It was early afternoon. Who took a girl to a movie midday? A pretentious little shit like Easton, that was who. He’d probably promised to have her back home before curfew.

  I went up the stairs, scanning the mostly empty seats. I spotted them in one of the back rows, huddled together, sharing popcorn.

  I lumbered up the stairs, taking a seat beside Grace, essentially sandwiching her between Easton and me. Their eyes didn’t waver from the movie. Collateral punishment for my shitty behavior.

  I could practically hear East snickering in my ear.

  “Here to team-tag Blondie?”

  He hadn’t even said that, and my fingers curled around the armrests, almost snapping the damn things.

  Nothing about this was familiar territory for me.

  I’d never had girl problems before.

  My philosophy had been as follows: if they wanted to hook up—great; if not—no problem. The two relationships I’d had in high school were easy. My girlfriends had been physically pleasing and cool to hang out with. But I never felt like I could kill anyone who looked their way. And it was starting to feel like, in Grace Shaw’s case, I had the tendency to get very jealous and very possessive anytime someone as much as breathed her way.

  “I was an asshole,” I piped up finally, my voice rough.

  Grace popped two popcorn kernels into her pink mouth, blinking at the screen under her ball cap.

  “Fine. Am. I am an asshole, happy?”

  “Amp it up, man.” Easton tsked, snickering into a fist full of popcorn. “I’m not hearing you owning up to it. I wanna see you sweat. Maybe throw a Notebook quote in.”

  Suddenly, I knew exactly what this was. My best friend wanted to prove a point. To show me I cared for this girl.

  East pushed, and he’d pushed far, not because he wanted to tap Grace’s ass, but because he wanted to kick mine into action. I’d been lying to myself since the day I’d met this chick.

  A faint smile rose on Texas’ lips. They were a nice pair of lips. Pale and pillowy, the bottom plumper than the upper one.

  “He’s right,” she teased. “A quote from The Notebook would make everything better.”

  “Shh!” someone a few rows below growled.

  The Notebook, they said? I’d watched it a thousand times with … never mind.

  My jaw ticked, and I ignored the rapid pulses in my eyelid. “You got a taste for humiliation?” I scanned her coldly.

  “Tit for tat,” she tutted. “You humiliated me. It’s only fair that I witness you squirm.”

  Damn this girl to hell. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.

  “I could be whatever you want. Just tell me what you want, and I’ll become that,” I said quietly.

  It might not have been verbatim, but it was damn close. She shivered in her seat. Easton threw his head back, his entire body quaking with silent laughter. He wasn’t going to be so happy when I got back home later tonight to pull out his toenails with tweezers while he watched.

  “I’m sorry I shoved you out the door the other day. It was shitty, and rude, and out of order. It wasn’t because I didn’t want you there. My mother and I don’t get along—as you can tell from my ignoring her constantly—and I didn’t want her to say something that would offend you. Which, ironically, blew up in my face.”

  In my periphery, Easton’s body was now practically shaking in his seat with laughter. He got up. I spat the apple candy in my mouth into the cup holder between us before it snapped in two.

  “I’ll leave you two lovebirds to it. Westie, don’t be … uh, you, basically.” Easton excused himself, clapping my shoulder on his way out. He skipped down the stairs, merry as a stoner at a dispensary.

  Grace turned to face me. Again, I found myself cursing the douchebag who’d invented ball caps. I could hardly see her face.

  I took her pinky in mine and squeezed. She let me. She tipped her chin up. Those damn summer sky eyes were going to be my undoing. I’d always been an ass man, but those eyes did to my dick what no ass on planet Earth could.

  “Tex.”

  “I hate you.”

  “I know. Tex?”

  “Next time you’re a jerk, I won’t be so forgivin’.”

  “Duly noted. Tex?”

  “We can be friends again, but this is your last chance.”

  “Tex!”

  “What!”

  “Fuck friendship. I miss your lips.”

  Her shoulders eased, like she’d released a breath she’d been holding. “They missed you, too.” Pause. “The rest of you, not so much.”

  This girl gave as good as she got.


  And she got a whole lotta shit from the world.

  I grabbed her cap and flipped it backwards as I dove in for a kiss. Even through the coat of popcorn salt, she tasted warm and sweet and soft. Always so fucking soft. I sucked her lower lip into my mouth, nibbling on it until she moaned and gasped, clutching my shirt.

  My eyes were so heavy lidded, I could barely keep them open, but I still didn’t fully shut them. She was gorgeous like this, in the dark, the blue lights of the screen dancing across her face. I wanted to ink this moment into memory, because I knew I would screw it up eventually.

  I was going to lose her.

  But at least I was going to have her first.

  This was going to be temporary.

  And painful.

  And worth it.

  The only thing that had changed between today and yesterday was my acceptance that the train wreck had left the station and was now heading toward a sizzling pile of explosives at a rapid speed.

  I wanted Grace ‘Texas’ Shaw.

  Wanted in her pants.

  In her mouth.

  In every hole she possessed (apart from the urethra, maybe).

  I wanted her mean jokes and pure heart and dazzling eyes, and that bumpy scar that felt like silk under my fingertips.

  Her skin was a continent of explorations I wanted to unveil, and kiss, and nibble. To learn her stories—her fears—by tracing my lips along all the places of her that hurt once.

  She slid her fingers into my hair, producing small throaty noises that made all my blood rush south. Our kiss was feral and deep, our tongues twirling together. I’d never enjoyed kissing so much. Normally, it was just a pit stop on my way to my final destination—Boneville.

  But I could kiss Texas to oblivion and back, without coming up for air. My thoughts sounded like a dated Hallmark card, but that didn’t make them any less true. Or any less goddamn disturbing, for that matter.

  Her hand slid across my pecs, down my six-pack, her fingers curling over the first button of my jeans.

  “Wanna get out of here?” Her lips traced mine as she spoke.

  I unglued my mouth from hers, studying her face. She looked sober, and I was one hundred percent positive she didn’t want to go to the concession booth for more stale popcorn.