The Moth and the Flame (When Rivals Play #2) - B.B. Reid Page 0,20
day break free of it, or would it choose to break us instead?
Clearing his throat, he said, “So be it.”
I slowly reached for the handle unable to understand why I was reluctant to go when he spoke again.
“Wait.”
I sat back and forced myself to relax while he reached into the back seat. A second later, a silver gift bag appeared in my lap with blue stuffing paper, and whatever was hidden inside felt pretty heavy.
“Happy Valentine’s Day, little Valentine.”
I continued to stare at the bag like it was a bomb. “What is it?”
“The idea is for you to open it and see.”
“No. Tell me,” I demanded more forcefully.
“Open it, Lou.” I met his gaze, and a silent battle of wills ensued. Off in the distance, I heard the school bell ring, and I knew he heard it too when he said, “You’re late, and I’ve got nowhere to be.”
“I find that hard to believe. After all, there’s no shortage of innocent people in need of terrorizing.”
“Very funny.”
“Yes, I thought so.” I peeled aside the gift paper and peered inside. Frowning, I reached in and pulled out the transparent glass sphere depicting snow falling over the city. “A snow globe? But I’m not a tourist.”
“Besides the clothes that you couldn’t be bothered to fold or hang, your room was noticeably bare of the things that led you here…to me. There were no memories, Lou.”
“They’re gone,” I said after a long heavy silence.
“What’s gone?” I couldn’t see his frown since I was watching the snow falling, but I heard it in his tone.
“The memories. My parents took them when they left.”
I let him lift my chin and brush away the tear I didn’t know had fallen. “Then we’ll make new ones.” I felt his other hand cover mine, the one holding the globe. “And we’ll start with this. To remind you of the night we met.”
The flame in his eyes danced as he stared back at me, and only now when it was too late did I realize there would be a cost to letting him get close.
My heart.
The price I paid one day would be my heart.
Two Years Later
“CHECKMATE.”
I took a sip of my drink as my opponent giddily tallied up her points.
“Twenty-two points,” she announced before marking them on the notepad next to her.
“You’re cheating,” I seethed.
The sharp look Kendra gave me could have cut through steel. “And you must be sore from all the losing.”
Kendra was not only an escort but one of our most popular, and my personal favorite although not for the reasons anyone might assume. She had the smoothest dark brown skin, almond-shaped eyes, full lips that beckoned, and jet-black dreads that curled around tits that must have been molded by God himself. However, it was the humor, wit, and mettle the other girls in Fox’s stable lost to drugs and abuse a long time ago that drew me to her. She started escorting for Exiled a few weeks after my initiation, and our first meeting nearly five years ago hadn’t exactly gone well.
Swallowing the sour taste the memory left on my tongue, I grumbled, “You don’t get to brag when you’re only ahead by ten points.”
“Winning is winning,” she boasted with a sly smile.
I ignored her wagging tongue and arranged the tiles to spell devotion before frowning at the board. The last three words I’d played had been desire, denial, and agony.
“Oooh,” Kendra said with an exaggerated wince. “Twelve points.” She marked my points down, and after playing her turn, she stared at me. “Something bothering you?”
“No,” I lied. “Why?”
“Because I can tell you’re a million miles away, and it’s making you suck at Scrabble more than usual.”
I took the time to spell out duty before answering her. “I told you we should have played spades.”
“Eight points,” she mumbled while writing it down. “And you suck at cards, too.”
I rotated my shoulders in agitation and refrained from getting up to pace the room like a caged lion, which was precisely how I felt—bound and hungry.
“Baby, you’re really tense,” Kendra cooed. She stood from her chair—the red silk robe I’d gifted her falling open to reveal her naked body—and came around to stand behind me. I felt her breasts against my back as she leaned into me and ran her hands from my fists resting on the table, up along my arms until, finally, she gripped my shoulders. My head fell forward as she began manipulating the tense muscles there. “How’s that feel?”