“Nice guys, huh?” He leaned over the arm of his chair toward her, close enough the heat of her body warred with the heat from the fire. “That’s not what your pulse said when I had my hand wrapped around your throat.”
He could almost feel her swallow in his palm.
She tilted her chin up as she crossed her legs. Her sundress rode even higher. “I think I was more concerned about you choking me.”
“Is that what you’re concerned about now?” He lolled his head to the side and gazed at the spot on her neck where her pulse throbbed against the thinness of her skin. Like a fighter throwing wild jabs, desperate to get out of a hold. Despite what he’d told Sebastián earlier, he couldn’t resist another chance at parting those beautiful, full lips. “I promise, Princess. I’ll always ask for consent before I touch you.”
The sparks from the fire slowed, lifting into the sky like fae ascending for a dance with the stars. Their reflections arced in Lily’s eyes like shooting stars over Lake Michigan’s winter waters. He wanted to dive in. Drink deep from those fathomless pools and curl his tongue over the sensitive skin under her chin where her pulse beckoned.
His hands flexed on the arms of the chair, and Lily’s gazefollowed the muscular sinews of his arms down to his grip. Her breathing shallowed.
Better yet, he could lift her dress a little higher and explore what lay beneath her serene surface. What sounds would she make if he tasted her there? Would she be quiet and polite? Or would the fire molding the glass in her eyes make her tongue sharp, too? Would she challenge him? Beg him for more while goading him?
He could blame it on the alcohol. And besides, Danny was oblivious upstairs in his room. No one would have to know—
The clearing of her throat broke his reverie. “I think I’m going to grab another drink.”
The music slammed into his ears. Maeve’s laughter. Rachel singing her goodbyes with a promise to take the L.
Lily leaped to her feet, her empty cider strangled in her hand.
“¡Lily, baila conmigo!”
Sebastián’s tan hand shot through the firelight and closed around Lily’s bare bicep. And just as fast, Lily spun, her hair arcing around her in tandem with her skirt.
Time slowed again. Kieran’s gaze tracked her every move—a trained fighter studying his opponent. She curled into Sebastián’s hold, easing the strain on her arm, and with the force of her momentum, she lashed out. The meat of her palm struck Sebastián’s solar plexus, and the man dropped to his knees like he’d been kicked in the balls. His hold released, and Lily leaped back, both fists raised in defense.
Wheezing, Sebastián spread his hand over his chest and squinted up at her. “You win, you win!” He raised one hand in surrender and might as well have tucked his tail.
“Oh my God, Seb. I’m sorry!” Lily’s hands flew to her mouth, covering honest horror at the sight of Sebastián’s pain.
Kieran stood slowly. That wasn’t a normal reflex. Normal would be jerking away or batting at his hand.
That was the reaction of someone who’d taken self-defense classes.
“I’m sorry,” Lily promised on repeat while she helped Sebastián to his feet.
“It’s okay.” Sebastián laughed it off and rubbed at his belly. “A simple ‘no’ will work next time.”
“I’m gonna go.” She crossed her arms over her chest, but it was more than a chill or indifference. She clung to herself, as if her grip was the glue holding her together. “I’m an awful drunk.”
Kieran frowned and glanced at the bottle, which had fallen to the grass in the scuffle. She’d barely drank, and she wasn’t drunk.
Maeve’s gaze caught his over the fire.What did you do?she mouthed.
Kieran shrugged and didn’t stop Lily when she made her hasty exit.
He hadn’t done anything to warrantthatreaction.
But something had definitely happened to Lily, and damned if he wasn’t going to find out what.
ChapterFive
Six stories up and tucked away in the rooftop lounge of Alex’s apartment building was about as far away from her problems as Lily could get on short notice. The rooftop was a hodgepodge of the residents’ best efforts to make the space homey: mismatched patio furniture, a picnic table for kids, a grill which had seen better days, and a scattering of overflowing terracotta pots. String lights haphazardly zigzagged from wooden beams in cement shoes, the lines casting pie wedges Lily and her friends carefully avoided to escape extra tan lines.
Lily shimmied down on her towel, searching for the perfect spot to rest her head as the sun warmed her skin. She cracked open one eye, squinting against the brightness at Natalia.
Her best friend might as well have been born tanning. She sprawled out on her beach towel, face tilted into the light like the sun child she was. Her already bronze skin shimmered and glowed.
