21. Dorian - August
TWENTY-ONE
Dorian - August
PLAY WITH FIRE (FEAT. YACHT MONEY) - SAM TINNESZ
I followed her.
Like the dumb fuck I was.
I knew she would be at Outlaw’s—Dotty had let it slip earlier when I spoke to her. So, I roped my brother into coming along, just to keep things from looking too obvious.
My dad had been asking for a night with Gracie anyway, so I figured what better time than when the girl that I couldn’t stop thinking about was going out?
I spotted her the second I walked in. She was sitting at a table across the bar, one leg crossed over the other, the hem of her skirt riding up, making me wonder what was underneath. She shifted slightly, adjusting her posture, and I couldn’t help but say hi before settling at the bar.
I knew almost everyone in Woodstone well, but when it came to the teachers, I only knew their names and faces. And that made it harder to shake the unease gnawing at me about letting my girl wander off without anyone she knew around.
Fuck. She was not my girl.
She couldn’t be mine, no matter how much I wanted her to be. It was ridiculous to even entertain the thought.
Because if I let myself care about Noah, I’d be asking for trouble, especially with John still out there.
The thought of us together was like standing on unstable ground, and while the urge to protect her pulled at me, the fear of what might happen kept me at arm’s length.
Somehow, Noah managed to get under my skin in a way I couldn’t quite comprehend. It was infuriating—this magnetic draw I felt toward her, this unshakable desire to protect her, even if it meant distancing myself, like I had every time she came over to tutor Gracie lately.
But here I was, sitting at the bar with my grumpy as fuck brother, who couldn’t hold a conversation for shit, while I spied on my sister’s best friend.
“So, how’s everything?” I asked Colt.
“Fine,” he replied, his eyes not meeting mine.
I nodded, not sure how to keep the conversation going. “Alright.”
He let out a long sigh. “Did you really ask me to go out to eye fuck Dotty’s best friend all night?” he asked.
I groaned, letting my head fall back and downed the rest of my beer. I looked over at him. His hair was pulled back in a man bun, despite how much we all teased him to just cut it.
“Is it that obvious?” I groaned.
“Yup.” He took another sip of his whiskey, clearly enjoying my discomfort.
“Great.” I pinched the bridge of my nose, trying to shake off the frustration. “I’m going to take a piss. I’ll be back.”
I needed a moment to clear my head. I moved through the crowd, dodging a couple of rowdy patrons and weaving between tables. The room was alive with conversation, the clinking of glasses, and the occasional bursts of laughter. The low lights, combined with the haze of smoke from the patio, made the atmosphere feel suffocating.
As I turned the corner into the narrow hallway, I nearly collided with someone. I instinctively stumbled back, mumbling a quick apology before my eyes finally adjusted and landed on her.
Noah.
She stood there, freshly out of the restroom, her head tilted downward as she adjusted her hair, sweeping a loose curl behind her ear. She glowed under the amber light overhead.
She blinked up at me, surprise flickering in her eyes. For a second, we just stood there, locked in place. My heart stuttered.
Then the corners of her mouth lifted into a small smile. “Hey.”
“Hey,” I replied, the words scraping against the tightness in my throat.
I took a step closer, narrowing the distance between us as my resolve began to fall the longer I was in her presence. The closer I got, the more impossible it was to stay away.
“How’s your night?” I asked.
Every hair on my body stood on end. I was close enough now to see the way her pulse fluttered at the side of her neck, close enough to reach out and touch her if I wanted to—if I dared to.
The tension that had simmered for the last several months threatened to boil over.
“It’s… good,” she replied.
She didn’t back away, didn’t move a muscle. I wasn’t sure if she was frozen in place or if she was waiting, just like I was.
“Good, huh?” I asked.
My hand moved to hover over her throat, the heat from her body searing through the space between us. She sucked in a breath, and I watched her pretty lips. So damn tempting.
My fingers skimmed her side, a barely-there touch that still sparked between us like a live wire. Her breath hitched again, and she leaned into me, making my fingers press a little deeper. My other hand finally made contact, gently holding her throat. I let my fingers rest against her, feeling the rapid pulse beneath my touch.
“Noah…” I whispered, her name a plea on my lips.
She gazed up at me, her eyes searching mine for something—maybe the same answers I was looking for. Her hand reached out, hesitating before she rested it lightly over my pounding heart. Her touch sent a jolt through me, and I could feel my restraint slipping away, inch by fucking inch.
Colt was right.
This was obvious.
How she affected me was so damn obvious.
My pulse thundered, each beat reverberating in my ears. Her exhales mingled with mine, brushing against my lips as I leaned in, my nose grazing hers. I could feel the silkiness of her skin, the sweet scent of her filling my senses. My eyes closed for a moment, savoring the closeness.
When I opened them again, I found hers locked on mine, searching, wanting, but also holding back.
“I can’t do anything serious right now,” she whispered.
“Yeah, me either,” I agreed, though the words felt hollow.
She hesitated, her eyes flicking down to my lips before meeting mine again. “My life’s a mess.”
“And I don’t get attached to anyone,” I said, as my hand slid up her side.
She bit her lip. “Yeah, and I dated a man who was murdering people.”
“Right… and I’m a single dad. My focus is on G,” I said, my gaze dropping to her mouth.
“And I’m her teacher,” she said, gripping the fabric of my shirt.
“And I’m your best friend’s brother,” I replied, my thumb skimming back and forth.
“Yeah, we shouldn’t do this,” she said, her voice faltering, though her eyes never left mine.
“Definitely not,” I said, my grip tightening just a fraction at her throat.
Her chest rose and fell rapidly, matching my own. Her lips were so close now, just a breath away.
“I’m scared,” she admitted.
“Terrified,” I breathed, backing her into the wall. The way she looked up at me, full of surprise and need, made me lose it. “Fuck it.”
And then, without another word, my lips were on hers.
The kiss was fire, the kind of flame that ignites in a spark but quickly spreads, consuming everything in its path. The need that had been building between us for months, finally roaring out of control.
This fucking girl.
It was everything I’d ever wanted, all at once. I knew her lips would drive me mad but tasting them had tenfold the reaction on my body.
She was a perfect mix of sharp and sweet, like a damn summer peach. I wanted to taste her forever.
Her kiss ruined me. It felt so right, and I knew that no other lips would ever compare.
I needed her everywhere .
My hands slid down her back and hoisted her up. She wrapped her legs around my waist, her hands locking behind my head. I grabbed her wrists with one hand, pinning them above her head.
I allowed myself to get lost in her, in the feel of her, the taste of her. All the fear and doubt melted away as we gave in to what we both knew was inevitable.
And I fucking loved it.
Every brush of her lips, every touch of her hands, sent electricity coursing through my veins, making it impossible to think, impossible to care about anything other than this moment.
Anything other than her .