Page 15 of Ignition Rites

“I know.”

I hesitate because the sensible thing is obvious: give her space, let her go back to school tomorrow, let this family become something she visits instead of something that closes around her.

“You still have your apartment,” I say. “You have school. You don’t have to let this place swallow everything else just because you know it’s here now.”

She watches me. “That’s very reasonable of you.”

“I’m a reasonable guy.”

“Not really.”

Her laugh is soft, and neither of us moves.

My hand comes up before I decide what I’m doing with it, stopping just short of her jaw. I should put it down, and she could step back if she wanted to, but she doesn’t.

“Ash.”

My name is barely more than breath.

I lean in an inch. Her gaze drops to my mouth before returning to my eyes, and suddenly there’s so little space between us that either one of us could make this something else. I hold still, and for one stupid second I want her to be the one who closes it.

She doesn’t.

Instead, she steps back first, putting enough space between us that the moment has somewhere to go besides forward. I let her have it, even though every part of me wants to close the distance and find out what happens next instead of standing here guessing.

“You should probably head to bed,” I say.

“Yeah.” She stays where she is. “Probably.”

A few seconds pass before she pulls the hoodie sleeves down over her hands and turns toward the door.

“Night, Ash.”

“Night.”

She reaches the doorway, then looks back. “For what it’s worth, I don’t think you’re just another guy deciding my fate.”

She’s gone before I can figure out what to do with that.

I stay beside the Camaro, staring at the open door long after her footsteps disappear.

Circling.

That was the word I used with Rafe. I wanted her to have one person in this house who wasn’t doing it.

I look at the space where she stood, close enough that one more inch would’ve put my mouth on hers.

Chapter seven

First Burn

Lorelei

Nobody told me the mask was mandatory. I find out I’m underdressed for that specifically at the gate, where a woman in a car who lives two houses down from ours takes one look at my bare face and hands me a strip of black lace like she’s used to doing this for lost girls.

“First time?” she asks, not unkind.

“That obvious?”