Mia's heart pounded, its rapid drumbeats echoing Jace Wilder's last words to her, "You know where to find me when you're done pretending," as if every syllable were a jagged shard digging a hole in her heart. Everything around her vibrated with energy, the dive bar's neon light slashing crimson and sapphire across the sticky floor, its shadows slithering like specters of the nightmares she would see in them. The air was a clinging fog of sweat and cheap whiskey and unspoken lust hanging on her skin like a lover's breath. She pressed against Lucas with his arm a possessive vice around her waist, his fingers digging into her hip through the crimson dress that clung to her curves, betraying her with every taut inch. His touch was an anchor in a tempest Jace had created, but it also created a tempest itself-a fire that scorched through the hallowed barrier of their friendship, setting her skin ablaze with a desire she dared not label. The bar's music thumped, a relentless bass that throbbed with her pounding heart, calling her to surrender, to leap into the abyss despite the agonized scream in her heart that cried for safety. He turned his head so that he was looking at the place in the crowd where Jace had disappeared, his jaw was tight enough that she could see the muscle moving, and his body was radiating an anger she had never seen in him before. He was her best friend, her sanctuary, the one who'd made her laugh her through sleepless nights of study and held her together when heartbreak threatened to rip her apart. But tonight he was a stranger in familiar skin, familiar protectiveness but raw, visceral edge that had her breath catching, her chest aching with gratitude and fear. "You okay, Mia?" His voice was a low growl, filled with worry and some darker emotion, something that made her heart stutter. His thumb brushed her hip, a ghost of a touch that surged electricity through her and she cursed her body for betraying her, for aching under the weight of his nearness when she was already drowning in Jace's shadow. No, she admitted, her voice a cracked whisper, barely audible above the din of the bar, coarse with the vodka's burn, the truth she'd yet to swallow. She wasn't okay. Jace's stare had peeled off her clothing, his black eyes and velvety growl eviscerating her defenses, leaving her exposed and naked. He'd seen her; really seen her, in a way that made her want to feel wanted, hunted, and completely lost. And the weight of Lucas's arm around her, his gruesome claim to "together," had only stirred the storm within her, a tempest of loyalty and a forbidden hunger that threatened to rip her apart. She wanted to scream; she wanted to run; she wanted to crawl into Lucas's warmth and forget the fire that Jace had lit, but her heart was a traitor, whispering what-ifs she didn't dare to consider. The look in his eyes went through her, searching, burning, like he could peel her skin and read the turmoil in her bones. "Mia," he said, his voice softer, but still edged with urgency and a pressure that tightened her chest. He took her off the dance floor; away from the swaying bodies, moving like shadows in some feverish dream, the movements tauntingly echoing the chaos inside her. People got out of his way as the storm walked with him, but her grip on his hand was an anchor, a desperate attempt to keep from falling through his fingers. "That guy's poison," he said, low, quaking with anger and fear. "Jace Wilder—he'll ruin you, Mia. Stay the fuck away from him. She shook her head, but the eyes seemed vacant, her heart still racing from Jace's appearance. She knew his reputation well; heart breaker, predator, a man that enjoyed breaking women and leaving them to pick up the pieces. She'd heard the whispers in college dorms, seen heartbroken tear-streaked faces of girls who'd fallen for his charms, their hearts shattered under his boots. His was a voice stained with sin, and when he had called her angel part of her had wanted to burn, to let him unravel her until there was nothing left. The thought made her stomach give her shameful twists, her heart ache for a betrayal not yet conceived. Lucas's fingers clenched around hers, entwining with hers in possessive fashion that caused her to shiver. "Come on," he said, his voice less harsh, but still at that strange, alien intensity, like a velvet covered blade. "Let's get you another drink. You're shaking." He smiled half-skewed, that half-smile that she had always known made her feel safe; but tonight it was sharp-edged, a question hanging in the curve of his mouth that she wasn't ready to answer. They walked through the crowd, the crush of bodies making Mia's skin crawl as each touch of a stranger's arm reminded her of her weakness. The burgundy dress was a beacon, drawing eyes she'd prefer not to get, every glance a knife that pierced her already fragile armour. She felt Lucas's hand on her, firm pressure earthed her but the ghost weight of Jace's eyes was a prickle that made her neck burn. She glanced over her shoulder, her heart pounding as she half-expected him to be standing against a wall, one hand on his hip and his mouth curved into a smile from the shadows. But he was gone, lost in the crowd, his promise to her to eat lingering only in her heart. The bar was noisy and Lucas leaning in to shout over the din, breath hot against her ear as he placed a drink order. "Straight vodka," he said to the bartender, his voice firm but his eyes never once leaving Mia, watching her like a hawk, cherishing and caging her in. Something rattled inside her at the proximity of him, and she hated herself for noticing the sensation of his lips on her hair, the sensation of his body sheltering her away from the insanity of the bar. He was her friend, her safe place, nothing else--except for the lie they'd weaved over it, and the heat of his palm in hers was too real, too heavy with something she couldn't put her finger on. The bartender handed her a glass, the vodka reflecting in the neon like a slice of ice. She reached for it, their fingers brushing and a shock went through her, causing her to suck in a breath. She sipped, the liquid fire burning her throat, but it couldn't burn away the memory of Jace's voice, his eyes, how he'd made her feel hunted and hotly desirable. She despised herself for it, for the twist of her body toward him, for the way the part of her longed to know the chaos he promised. Pain stabbed at her heart, torn between the comfort of Lucas and the dangerous allure of Jace's threat, a war she wasn't certain she could win. "You're terrifying me, Mia," he told her with a voice that was barely above a whisper; rugged and raw, he is vulnerable, and it tore at her heart. What's happening in that little head of yours? His fingers curled against hers, his thumb rubbing the backs of her knuckles with each squeeze, each touch a question, a plea, that turned her heart full of guilt and longing. "I don't know," she said, her voice hitching, tears stinging the corners of her eyes. "He… he got under my skin, Lucas. I don't know why." It was like a betrayal, a sword she'd plunged into the heart of their friendship, but she couldn't lie to him, not as his eyes were burning into hers and calling for truth. Lucas's jaw hardened, the pain that built in his eyes making her chest squeeze with pain. No, he wasn't worth it, he said, his voice harsh, shaking with something that was more than anger-deeper, something that made her heart skip. "You're better than that, Mia." You always have been." His words were a promise, a lifeline - but they were also a promise that filled her with a paralyzing fear, not of love, not of anything that she was not ready for, but of Jace's presence in the background, of his words when you're done pretending that lingered in the background like an infection she could not cure. Neon throbbed from the bar and teased her; it sang her a mocking song, a whisper of seduction, and told her she already was playing with fire. His hand found its way to the small of her back, a reminder of his touch, comforting and searing, guiding her to a stool, reminding her of the dangerous proximity they immediately felt. "Stay with me," he said, and she didn't know if it was just tonight or forever, but the words caught around her heart and tugged her back from the brink, but the brink was there, sterile and complete. Jace's presence was a ghost on her skin, an apparition of a touch, a promise of a turmoil that both thrilled and frightened her. There was a fire there, a carelessness that she couldn't shake off, but her eyes were steady and she held Lucas's gaze, wondering what he saw in her. The pulse of the bar thrummed through her, reminding her that she was life, on the cusp of something that she couldn't control. And as she felt Lucas's hand remain, the heat of his presence against the cold threat of Jace's stare, Mia felt the weight of the lie they told - 'We're together' - shatter around her heart, a fragile string that could either bind them together or tear them apart.
