Dearest (Hot) Enemy by Melanie Marks

Author:Melanie Marks
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2015-08-18T06:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 34

This moment—Jace talking all soft near my ear, and him touching my hair … and looking at me like that—like I’m the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. My knees go weak.

As he continues to stare, heat rips through my body.

Jace’s eyes linger on me a moment longer, breathing hard, then his gorgeous blue eyes flick to Scott. He sees that the little guy is engrossed with Zombie Massacre, totally ignoring us, then Jace’s eyes latch back on mine. His focused stare instantly makes me wobbly and light headed.

He draws out a breath. “I want to show you something,” he says softly.

All the air strangles in my throat. What is he going to show me that makes him look like that?

Hesitantly, Jace leads me over to the other side of the room. This side isn’t done like comic-book strips. They’re normal sketches. A large portion of a wall on this side is devoted to me as well. But these pictures aren’t like the others. They are flattering—very flattering. My stomach swoops.

“You drew these at school?” I ask with astonishment, just now realizing I’ve been holding my breath. I try to let it out slowly. Remind myself: breathe in, breathe out. But it’s hard, because I can’t believe it—Jace drew all of these beautiful, flattering pictures … of me. (Me!!!!!) My heart skips a beat and feels like it’s going to explode.

Jace nods slowly. “Yeah … a lot of them.”

There are some he must have drawn at the shack. In a lot of them, I’m crying. How many times had he been there without me seeing?!!

Heat rips through me thinking about it—him watching me. Drawing me.

I tilt my head, biting my lip, once again forgetting to breathe. “This is weird.”

He laughs nervously. “Yeah. Sorry. I draw everything.”

Looking at these, I feel like maybe he does understand me, especially how emotional I am. In some of the pictures I’m smiling. Some I look worried, some thoughtful, some sad. Some, I’m kneeling and praying, looking so beautiful and peaceful that tingles rush through me.

But the gladiator thing …

“You can’t take everything I draw too literally,” he says, seeming to read my thoughts as I gaze at the other side of the wall again.

Looking to where I am, he explains, “Like the sword—that’s your flute. Sometimes when you play it—it’s like you’re angry—like in your mind you’re ripping someone to shreds.”

“Oh.” I stiffen and duck my head, my cheeks flushing with heat thinking about earlier today, playing my flute while I was so angry at Tyler and his player games. Yeah, I had wanted to rip Tyler to shreds … I guess a lot of times.

Ian too.

“But it’s not always like that,” Jace says. “A lot of times you sound really peaceful and happy. You’re just passionate. It comes out in your music.”

A jet of warmth shoots through me thinking of him listening to me play—and understanding my feelings. So completely.

I whisper, “Does Mona play the flute?”

Jace turns pale, like just hearing her name hurts him.

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