Where Lightning Strikes (Bleeding Stars #3)

Was he really going to go there?

My stare narrowed in warning and hatred and a flash of hurt I just couldn’t keep at bay. I knew what he was implying. Going back to that night when he’d backed me into a corner in the storage room. When I’d turned him down then days later he’d turned around and done the same to me.

I thought both of us would finally have had enough and thrown in the towel, giving up this stupid, futile game. Quit hurting each other for sport.

Because neither of us were going to win.

But, no.

He just kept right on like he wanted to go another round. Watching me as if he couldn’t stop.

Big question?

Why?

Why wouldn’t he give this up?

That fierce gaze shifted between hunger and remorse and an apology I didn’t want him to speak.

Not that I’d be foolish enough to fall for it again.

Casually, he sat rocked back in his chair, as if he were just another person in the small group gathered at Shea and Sebastian’s wedding reception.

As if he wasn’t single-handedly setting fire to my safe little world.

Lights from above glowed against his face.

Like a halo bestowed on a dark angel.

Under his scrutiny, I felt as if he was slowly killing me. Piece by piece. Thought by thought.

I could feel him sinking in. Slipping deeper. That disease taking hold.

How could it feel as if this dangerous boy was becoming my last dying wish?

Shadows played across the defined cut of his cheeks, accentuating the sharp angle of his jaw, his tie loosened as he kicked back in that delicious suit the man should have been forbidden to wear.

Because on him it was nothing but an irresistible snare.

Potent and provocative.

My insides quivered and shook.

Did he have no shame?

I lifted my chin. “Maybe some people choose to go at it alone because they don’t need the added disappointment. They’ve had enough of it already.”

His brow rose. “Maybe they’re looking in the wrong places.”

“Oh, I have no doubt they’re looking in the wrong places. And then in a weak moment they think maybe…just maybe they found something they wanted, that maybe they were looking in the right place after all, and the next second they’re shown their instincts were right all along.”

If I wasn’t locked in this stare down, I might have missed the way he winced at the jab I threw.

We both knew my thoughts had gone right back to his apartment, where I’d sought him out and ended up against his wall. Where I’d so stupidly been giving in.

Succumbing.

Falling right into that trap.

Silence stole over the table, and everyone looked between us. They weren’t fools to the discomfort.

Ash tsked, a smirk stealing onto one side of his mouth. “Oh come now, you two, this is a wedding. It’s supposed to be all about the lovin’, and here you are, fighting like cats and dogs.”

Ash let his eyes trail over me, over the gorgeous dress that was pretty, sweet, and delicate up against my hard, rigid armor.

“Considering our Tam Tam here is nothing but a sex kitten…”

He turned and widened his eyes at Lyrik. “And you, my friend, are nothin’ but a dog, we know you two can’t help yourselves. But before you go ripping each other to shreds…or more likely, each other’s clothes to shreds…let’s have some respect for the sanctity of the evening, shall we?”

He glanced between us, smirking wide.

A scowl gathered on Lyrik’s face—attention still directed at me—before he grinned at Ash. “Just makin’ sure these ladies know all their options.”

He looked back at me. “Wouldn’t want them missing out on the good things in life.”

Ash chuckled quietly. “Sure you are, my friend, sure you are.”

Some weird moment transpired between them, Ash’s chin tilting up and to the side. Lyrik gave a short shake of his head.

Just awesome. Now I was a part of some silent manwhore conversation. It made me itch in discomfort. Shift on my seat.

Had Lyrik been talking about me?

Kallie, Shea’s little girl, suddenly came flying in from across the dance floor, screaming, “Uncle Ash!” with her hands thrown in the air.

Thank God for small miracles.

Ash turned and swooped her up just as she flung herself into his arms. He propped her on the table facing him while he squeezed her, tossing an exaggerated wink out to everyone watching. “Now this here’s my real date.” He smiled back at her. “Little miss maid of honor.”

“Today I’m a butterfly princess,” she said with a resolute nod.

He poked at her belly and she giggled, trying to catch his finger. “Stop it, Uncle Ash. That tickles way, way, way bad!”

“Well, that’s what tickle monsters do…they tickle.” He tickled her more, lightly, before he touched her nose. “Are you saving your first dance for me?”

“Yep, yep, yep! Just like we practiced.”

“Good girl.”

He set her on her feet, and she kept moving. She pushed up on her toes to press a kiss to my cheek. Warmth spread through me.

The child was so sweet.

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