Moth to a Flame Read Free Page B

lip in a nervous gesture.
    “Um, I threw your shirt in the wash. The website said that you could still be burned by the chemicals if it remained on your clothes. I figured your jeans were okay,” she rambled as she handed the folded pants over to me, “but I couldn’t find your, um, underwear.”
    With that statement, her cheeks turned an adorable shade of pink.
    “That’s because I wasn’t wearing any,” I teased with a wink, causing her face to redden impossibly darker.
    She handed me a pink, oversized Alpha Delta Pi T-shirt. “This will have to do for now,” she huffed as she tossed it to me and backed out the bathroom door.
    Dropping my towel, I rolled my eyes as I tossed the shirt on the counter and pulled on my jeans. When I stepped out of the bathroom, I could hear noises from somewhere in the house. I made my way toward the sound to find her heating up some soup on the stove in the kitchen.
    “Cale, you may as well let me give you some food considering I nearly blinded you,” she instructed, not looking up.
    While she focused on stirring, I quickly looked her over again, drinking up everything about her. She had changed into a sweatshirt and ass-hugging jeans—the kind of jeans a man enjoys slowly taking off. Her petite frame had the perfect amount of muscle that could only belong to an athlete. Sexy, wavy, dark-brown hair hung just below her shoulders and fell around her face as she remained bent over the soup. But what got me for the second time were her glowing, green, soul-baring eyes when she flicked her gaze up at me.
    Her eyes said so much yet seemed to be hiding something that rarely escaped. Again, her cheeks turned pink when she noticed me looking her over.
    “I gave you a shirt, Cale,” she hissed, noticing that I was bare-chested. Her eyes were glued to my naked chest.
    “Pink’s not my color, Lia,” I joked, trying to rile her up.
    This garnered an annoyed grumble as she looked back down and continued her task of stirring. I couldn’t help but chuckle at this sexy little tigress. And, God, is she sexy.
    While she remained cooking at the stove, seemingly lost in her own thoughts, I took in my surroundings. Her decorations were sparse, but her mantel proudly displayed a picture of what must have been her mother and father. There were no typical, cutesy decorations like I would have expected from a girl who wore pink, designer rain boots and hoarded shoes in her bathroom like the apocalypse was coming.
    I walked over to the table and noticed a sack. Being the nosy guy I am, I peered into it. Uncontrollable laughter seized me as I realized that it was packed full of romance novels.
    “THAT is none of your business!” she shrieked as she ran over and snatched the bag off the table, bolting from the room.
    I continued to laugh hysterically until she stomped back into the room with her hands on her hips. My laughter was cut short when I became fully aware of just how adorable she looked with those green eyes blazing with fury.
    “God, you’re beautiful,” I blabbed before even comprehending what had come over me.
    Her shocked look was quickly masked by one of annoyance. “Just eat your damn soup so I can take you back to your truck. And you’re going to be cold unless you take my shirt,” she huffed.
    “Oh, I’ll take your shirt,” I teased with a wink. Damn, this girl really made my mouth say whatever the fuck it wanted.
    She turned pink again and stalked into the kitchen to serve up the soup.
    We ate quickly and without much conversation. She avoided any and all eye contact with me. When she did look up at me, her eyes would briefly dart to my chest before she’d drag them back to focus on her soup. The hair falling around her face couldn’t hide her crimson cheeks. As for me, my eyes never left her while we ate. I couldn’t peel my eyes from her lips every time they wrapped over the spoon to suck down the hot liquid.
    Once she was finished, much to my dismay, she scampered off