Page 53 of The Masks We Burn
I like the pink-haired wild child who dances to the beat of her own drum and doesn’t care about speaking her mind.
I like the girl who’s so independent, she’s probably going to drop my sorry ass the second I fucking tell her.
Last night, the night before, hell, the few weeks before that, she’s been wearing on me, infecting me with her sass, and poisoning me with her rare tenderness. When I’m not with her, I’m thinking about her, my mind hell-bent on learning more about her and all the things that make her tick.
It’s probably good to mention I’m addicted to her orgasms too. It’s the one true moment where she gives herself over freely, trusting me to take care of her and give her what she needs. And it’s in those same moments that I see Amora’s every feeling, unguarded and all mine to soak in.
And she feels… fucking incredible. For the first few hours after we finished, I kept telling myself it’s because it had been so long. But I know better. She felt perfect. And as possessive and douchey as it sounds, it’s like every piece of her was made for me. Each part of us fit together like we were made as a whole, then ripped apart and meant to find each other again.
What the fuck is happening?
“You clean up well.” I catch a pair of brown leather suspenders midair and look up to see Spencer holding up a bow tie.
Blaze shakes his head. “No tie. I think if we leave the top buttons open, and you add a fitted jacket, it will match the look Lily is going for.”
“And rolled sleeves for the groomsman,” I add.
Blaze nods in agreement, tossing a box of brown dress shoes on the bench beside me.
Him, Spencer, and I met to pick out the fits for the wedding, and thankfully our fashion connoisseur came to make it easy. Blaze chose slim-fit gray slacks, fitted white button-downs, and brown leather suspenders with loafers to match.
Taking a look in the mirror, I add the finishing touch and grin. “I can’t believe you’re marrying your high school bully.”
Spencer huffs, accepting a jacket the attendant hands him. “All over a misunderstanding because of you.”
I hold my hands up. “I didn’t make you lie through your teeth about loving the girl.”
Blaze steps in, rolling his sleeves. “Remy says it’s one of the worst tropes she’s ever read. The miscommunication trope she calls it.”
Remy and her damn romance books. It reminds me of the brief conversation we had when she dropped the muffins off. I turn to Blaze, eyebrows raised, knowing if I ask, he won’t lie. “Rem wouldn’t have anything to do with my new living arrangement, would she?”
The bastard smiles, adjusting his watch. “You know she did. Said she was tired of waiting on fate to do what needed to be done. I tried to tell her you guys would be a catastrophe, but I see I was wrong.”
So they all know. “What do you mean?”
Spencer’s eyebrows lift. “Well, her idea for the collaborative premarital party was one thing, but when you both easily agreed to it, I knew you both would either rip each other’s throats out, or fuck each other’s brains out. No in-between.”
“And since neither of you seem to be in need of stitches, I’d assume the latter.” Blaze finishes tying his shoe before standing and brushing his hands down his chest.
Thankfully my skin tone is dark enough to hide the fire burning my cheeks. Why the fuck am I blushing?
I scrub my hands down my face, ignoring just how right they are. “Look, I don’t even have my own future figured out right now, so this thing between her and I… it’s just a temporary thing. A mutual agreement for the both of us.”
Spencer’s lips thin and I realize too late what I said. “Still?”
Sighing, I fall back down on the bench, my stomach turning as I tell them something I don’t even want to admit to myself. “Nothing feels like it did back when I played ball. Everything feels…”
“Pointless?” Blaze finishes and when I nod, his head tilts. “What about the fighting?”
“The first time, it was exhilarating. But the dude ended up making it too easy, and I don’t know. It just hasn’t beenitfor me after that.”
“Can I ask how you felt watching the kids at football camp?”
A smile takes over my face, the mere memory of the kids flashing through my mind. “I really enjoyed it even though I wasn’t involved. It was fucking terrifying at first, being back on the field, and in the middle of something I used to breathe. But after a while, the pain ebbed and something else took its place.”
Blaze nods, a grin on his face. “Bellamy runs the whole thing. He’s actually going to take over the program when he graduates. I’m sure he’d love a partner.”
I shake my head, though a lightness pours into my blood, filling me with promise I haven’t felt in years. “I couldn’t.”
