Page 155 of Ignition

A flicker of something resembling panic shot through me like a bolt, from the balls of my feet to the top of my spine, and my hands flexed on her shoulders, fully prepared to pry her off me, mind flicking through good-enough excuses: it’s hot, I need a cigarette, it’s getting late…

But then I glanced down and my heart skipped several beats. Her breathing had deepened, and her lashes fluttered shut, dragged down by a soft, sleepy sigh as she nuzzled against me.

The idea of dislodging her from my arms felt downright criminal.

My breath stirred the soft hairs at her temple, and I scarcely had time to wonder if she was about to fall asleep when she cracked open an eyelid.

She shifted until she hovered over me, chewing on her lip for a few heartbeats. Then, she leaned in and gave me a grateful little kiss that shouldn’t have cut me at the knees like that, then peered around for her clothes, brows drawn together.

I tucked a chuckle behind my teeth and reached towards the front seat, fingers closing around her sweater, then found her pants and bra slung over the console. I handed them back to her, swallowing a lump in my throat.

An urge to give her privacy kicked up my spine. I didn’t know if it was because of deeply ingrained manners or what, but I eased her off me.

You watched her come on your fingers, asshole. This is inappropriate?

“I’ll be right outside.”

I grabbed my coat and ducked out without waiting for a reply, ears burning.

The cold air sucker-punched me in the gut, gnawing at my exposed face and hands, a welcome contrast to the stifling, damp heat inside the car.

A trembling line ran through my fingers as I fumbled in my pack for a cigarette and perched on the bonnet.

The heavy silver lighter clicked open, a flame hissed in the silence, and then the tip glowed cherry red in the darkness.

I dragged in a slow pull, the first hit of nicotine settling deep in my bones and easing my stuttering heartbeat.

The thick plume of smoke curled up, until it disappeared into the falling snowflakes that landed on my nose and cheeks and melted instantly.

It was late, but the night was unusually bright because of the snow. No cars passed, no sounds trickled through from the city. Only the skyline and the quiet, pressing down on my eardrums.

As I brought the cigarette to my lips, I caught a whiff of her scent on my fingers and bit down on a groan.

Fuck.

Where had it gone so wrong?

This was supposed to be her surrendering to me, not—

I dragged in more lungfuls, focused on drawing circles in the smoke, and attributed the tremor running through my hands to the fact I hadn’t had a cigarette in a while.

The nicotine was hitting me hard, that was all.

The pristine snow gathering on the frozen soil offered no comfort, mocking me in its silence, as if it knew I was lying through my teeth.

By the time the car door clicked open, and the soft crunch of her tentative footsteps reached me, my heart had settled, and my blood no longer rushed and screamed in my ears.

My body turned in slow motion, and the sight of her felt like someone ran a white-hot knife along my ribs: face glowing, that tender, almost fond expression, tousled hair she hadn’t quite managed to tame.

I choked on a puff of smoke, succumbing to coughing like a disgraceful newbie.

For fuck’s sake.

Her little musical chuckle rang out bright and bubbly as I doubled over.

The cigarette hissed as I flicked it away onto the snow, and my now empty hands flexed at my sides, straining against the urge to pull her into my chest again so I could bury my face in her hair.

Jaysus.