Page 7 of The Masks We Burn
I lift a brow. “Out of my what?”
She bats a hand toward me, turning back to the flowers and muttering. “La vida empieza al final de tu zona de confort.”
Rolling my eyes, I lead her back to the front so we can talk to the florist. It isn’t until I get in my car and do a quick Google search that I make my decision.
* * *
For one yearof my life, back in high school, I wanted to be a hairdresser. I’m well-versed in how to color some strands, but after a volunteer shift in a salon and seeing the bitchy ass customers I’d have to deal with, I quickly dropped the idea. I miss it sometimes, which probably explains why my pulse hums beneath my skin as I look down the aisles of Sally Beauty.
I find the hues of pink and immediately reach for the cremé flamingo. It’s the perfect shade. Delicate but fierce, like an iridescent pink butterfly. Nowthatwould be badass.
Humming through the aisles, I grab the rest of the materials I need—some gloves, a mixing bowl, a new hundred-dollar flatiron, and an economy size of that hair mask I can never find.
What can I say? I get distracted easily.
As I pay the young cashier with badass mermaid hair, my phone begins buzzing in my handbag. While grabbing my keys, I simultaneously slip my cell out and walk outside. It’s nippier than it was earlier this week when I was flower shopping, and I vaguely wonder if we may get snow soon.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Amora.” Remy’s sweet voice meets my ear and instantly I perk up a little. My roommate has a light about her that warms you no matter where you are.
“Hey, girl. Guess what?” I jiggle the Sally’s bag in my hand as if she can see it while I unlock my car.
“Chicken butt?”
I can’t stop the laughter that spills out from her corniness. “No, bitch. I’m dying my hair!”
There’s a brief pause as my phone connects to my car’s Bluetooth and I have to make sure we didn’t get disconnected somehow. “Remy?”
There’s a muffled conversation I can’t quite make out before her voice sounds through my speakers. “Oh, that sounds like fun. Hey, I needed to let you know something before you got home.”
A lump forms in my throat and suddenly the excitement I had about something as simple as a hair color change fades away. When I try to open my mouth to speak, nothing comes out, so instead Ihmm.
“Well, as you know, with Lily and Spencer getting married in such a quick time span, we all need to be close together and available for anything that may arise…”
She trails off and the dread in my throat swells. “Get to the point, Remy.” I don’t mean to come off so bitchy, but I don’t really get where she’s going and why the fuck she needs to say thisbeforeI get home.
Is she moving out or something? No. That doesn’t make sense. But why do I feel such a strong—
“William is moving in with Blaze for our last semester.”
She spits the words out so fast it takes me a second to register what she’s actually said. Then the lump drops into my stomach with a sickening thunk.
Will.
“William Cassidy?” I’m not sure why I ask when I already know the answer.
William is Spencer’s childhood friend who has slowly ingrained himself into all of my friends’ lives. Luckily, we never really cross paths, and I know it’s a mutual effort that it doesn’t happen. We are two types of fire that, if they ever met, would burn the world to ashes.
“Yeah, but, Amora, really it’s because William’s going to be traveling back and forth so much…”
I don’t hear the rest of her words as they fade away to the irritation bubbling right under my skin. The man is a grade A fucking douche sack, and him moving in the duplexacross the sidewalkto mine is literally the shittiest thing that could happen.
So here’s the thing, on the outside, he’s the total package. He’s tall as fuck, at least six-four, and has a voice so deep he always sounds like he just woke up. If that wasn’t enough, he’s got green eyes. Not a regular, run-of-the-mill green, but lost-in-the-middle-of-the-goddamn-forest green. And his smile? Jesus, it’s such a stark contrast against his perfect brown skin you can’t help but get weak in the knees—and drenched in the panties.
I don’t think I’ve ever encountered someone so goddamn delectable.
And infuriating.
