Page 37 of The Truths We Burn

This is called shot-gunning. I’d watched it in movies and seen it once at a party, but I never knew it could feel this good.

How an act so simple, something depicted as trashy, could be charged with so much tension.

We sit there continuing the process, over and over again.

And I can’t remember a single time I’d felt this unbothered. All I’m focused on is how he feels, how he smells, the way he looks. I’m enveloped in Rook’s little world, and I don’t want to leave.

My entire life had been spent around fabricated relationships that barely scratched the outer level of who I am. I was existing in a superficial world, like Barbie trapped in her plastic box.

Until this. Until him.

Ten years down the road, I’d still never be able to find the words for it.

Despite what everyone said, what they will continue to say, despite the anarchy he raises,Rook Van Doren is what truly living feels like.This substantial, nebulous force that could never be watered down or put out.

“The fire which never goes out,” I whisper out loud, without thinking fully.

My head feels light, buzzing on a different wavelength than normal. Everything feels more intense—the music from the party thudding in my ears, the way Rook’s thighs shift beneath me, the smell of the weed.

He sets the half-smoked blunt right side up in the cup holder, the cherry still burning bright.

“Are you going to be the person who gets philosophical when they’re high?” His mouth tilts up in the corner, giving me a sharp grin.

“No, no.” I shake my head, my hair falling in front of me. “Homer, he wrote inThe Iliadabout the natural gases that sprout from the cracks of limestone in the mountains near Olympus. He called them ‘the fire which never goes out.’ I think that’s you.”

I recline from him, letting my head hang back, my hands still resting on his chest as I roll my body, experiencing something that feels out of my control. I’m flying, soaring above the clouds.

My skin feels like Pop Rocks, humming. A pressure settles on my hips, and my eyes drop to Rook’s hands that strain against me, holding me dangerously still. This spot has me feeling how much this position affects him.

Throbbing spreads to my core as I felt the heat from his erection pressed into me. Butterflies flutter in my center, my heartbeat falling straight down from my chest.

Intensity builds inside of me, and my lust begins to chase more pleasure, my hips moving despite his death hold on me, rocking forward, then back.

Once, twice.

“Sage,” he grits out between clenched teeth, “either stop moving or get fucked.”

In any other normal situation, I would have stopped. I would have snapped back to reality and told myself this was only going to make things terribly worse.

But it’s not normal.

It’s him.

So I grind into him once more. I trace the outline of his lips with the tip of my tongue. Just the little taste of him already has my blood pumping.

“I really want to kiss you right now,” I mumble, my tone veiled and deep.Without my mind’s consent, my hands clutch his Thrasher tee between my nimble fingers.

“Then kiss me.”

Grappling with the last pieces of my resolve, I reply, “We aren’t right for each other. This is going to end tragically. We don’t end up together in the end.”

I shiver when his rough palms rub up and down my thighs, his pointer finger desperately close to heading up my dress. I hadn’t even noticed how much the leather had ridden up my body, my ass practically hanging out.

“I can show you just howrightwe can feel together.”

“We can’t tell—oh!” I fall into a gasp as he discovers how exposed I really am. I hadn’t wanted panty lines in this dress, so I’d skipped them tonight. Now, I can feel his thumb rubbing up and down, smearing my wetness.

My nails dig into his shirt. “We can’t tell anyone,” I finish, trying to lift my hips towards his touch.