The Moth and the Flame (When Rivals Play #2) - B.B. Reid Page 0,19
moment ago. I watched through narrowed eyes as he leaned over and rolled down the window. “Let’s go.”
I had a strange sense of déjà vu, and I quickly remembered what occurred the last time I got in the car with him.
“What did you say to our bus driver?”
The corner of his mouth lifted. “I told him you’d be riding with me today.”
“No, I won’t, you fucking lunatic!” I turned to grab Eliza again intending to haul ass, but she was already pushing past me and climbing into his backseat. What the hell? “Eliza, what are you doing?”
“It’s like thirty degrees,” she whined as she buckled her seat belt. “Do you really expect us to walk all the way to school?”
Wren smiled and said nothing as he sat back in his seat and shifted the car into drive. He already knew he’d won because I wasn’t about to let my fri… um… Eliza ride alone with him. I sighed and slid into the passenger seat. Wren took off before I could even get my seat belt fastened. I threw a dirty look over my shoulder at Eliza who smiled apologetically.
I started to scold her but then Wren beat me to it by scolding me instead. “Leave her alone. You’re just upset because she has more common sense than pride.”
“Wouldn’t it be better to have both in equal measure?”
“Not always.” He took his eyes from the road and met my gaze. “Not when it counts. For instance,” he continued, focusing back on the road, “common sense tells me to stay away from you”—his hand tightened around the steering wheel as if the thought enraged him—“but my pride won’t let me.”
“What does your pride have to do with it?”
“You think you don’t want me around, and I’m determined to prove you wrong.”
“I’m still not seeing how that’s supposed to be a good thing.”
His eyes were mesmerizingly blue when he glanced my way again. “You will.”
I had no ready response. There were only the butterflies awakened by the heat blooming in my stomach.
“Besides,” Eliza cut in, reminding us both that she was in the car, “we all know you weren’t going to walk. You’d freeze your tits off.”
Wren laughed at her comment, but I had a feeling it was because he knew it would piss me off. I ignored them both and stared out the window.
When he pulled up to our schools, which were right across from each other,, he ordered me to hang back before letting Eliza out on his side. I obeyed solely so I could give him a piece of my mind and pretended not to notice how deeply Eliza blushed when Wren wished her a good day. I snorted and crossed my arms while pretending interest in my schoolmates hanging out on the lawn. The moment he climbed back inside and shut the door, I let him have it.
“This little ‘agreement’ that you’re taking way too seriously is off. Stay away from me, Wren.”
“You need a friend, and I need a distraction. What’s the problem?” he asked with more patience than the situation allowed. How could he be so casual when his actions were far from sane? More importantly, why was I tempted to get closer and find out?
“You’re dangerous and not just because of what you do for them,” I said, referring to Exiled, “but because of what you do to me. I’m not sure I like who I am when you’re around.”
“I’d never ask you to be someone you’re not, and I’d never hurt you. As tough as you think you are, the world is tougher. It’s a tenacious bitch, and you need someone watching your back.”
“But why do you care?” I pressed. “It can’t be because you’re so benevolent.”
“Did you not hear me say I get something out of the deal?”
“What exactly do you need distracting from?”
His nostrils flared, and he sighed. “Does it matter? It won’t ever cost you a damn thing.” When I didn’t respond, he added, “Do we have a deal?”
I stared into those perplexing eyes of his, drawn to the flame I glimpsed within them. Against my will, my lips said “Sure” even as my mind screamed no.
Wren nodded and looked away.
I could tell he wasn’t as confident about the seal we’d just placed on our fate as he’d like me to think, but like me, he was too far gone. Something invisible, unbreakable, and incurable had a hold on us, drawing us in like moths to a single flame. Could we one