Things We Burn Read Online Anne Malcom

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Sports, Virgin Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 162
Estimated words: 154728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 774(@200wpm)___ 619(@250wpm)___ 516(@300wpm)
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I had never gone out to a bar—I’d gone to wine tastings to find the best wine to pair with dishes. Learned from top sommeliers. I’d gone to cocktail lounges to attain techniques I utilized in my kitchens. Every trip was for a purpose, not for leisure.

“No cloth napkins or silver spoons here, Chef,” Kane joked. “You scared?”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “Of course, I’m not scared.” I straightened my back and walked into the bar in order to prove my point.

The music was blaring at a level you could hear on the streets, the source being a band playing on a tiny stage at the back of the tiny bar. The space was cluttered but not crowded. Despite the small space, no one so much as glanced my way when I walked in, even when I felt Kane’s warmth behind me, hands on my hips and his lips brushing my neck.

I shivered.

It took me a second to process the dim lighting, the noise, the sticky floor, the weird mix of smells—peanuts, beer, sweat, smoke. And then Kane’s scent curled up in it all, his lips on my skin, the intimate touch.

Once I’d processed all of this, I recognized the band playing was good. Great, actually.

I wasn’t into most things pop culture. Music was the exception. It was something I’d shared with my father, something that wove in and out of every one of my memories. My kitchen always had music playing. Not at a high volume, because we needed to hear each other, the tickets. But once service was over, I turned it up so it could wash over me, help me come down from the high of each night.

I’d had it playing the nights Kane watched me cleaning, yet he hadn’t commented on it.

“This place has some of the best undiscovered bands in the country.” His lips brushed against my ear as he spoke, sending goose bumps down my arms. “Unquiet Mind played all their original stuff here before they got huge.”

Unquiet Mind was one of the few commercial bands I actually enjoyed. Even though they were one of the biggest bands in the world, I still found their music authentic, powerful. They hadn’t sold out. They were on the playlist I’d played that first night he’d come into my kitchen.

“Figured you’d like them.” He nodded to the band playing a mix between rock and folk music. Hard and lyrical. “Figured you’d like a place that didn’t have cloth napkins and dress codes. Or at least it’d take you out of your comfort zone so I could watch your eyes light up.”

My palms were sweating, realizing just how much he saw me.

“Let’s get a beer.” Hand on my hip, he directed us to the bar.

He nodded to the bartender, and once he arrived, leaned over, presumably to give him our order.

Kane didn’t make a move to make further conversation with me. He merely lifted me onto the barstool in front of him and slung his arm over my shoulder, half around my neck, toying with the neckline of my tee.

He was obviously relaxed, at ease.

I was still tense, unsure of how to act in a scene like this. Unsure of how to act as Kane’s ‘date’ in a place like this. I didn’t have experience in dive bars with sticky floors.

The beer he handed me was cold, crisp. His lips at my neck were warm, electrifying.

“Breathe, Chef,” he whispered. “Listen to the music. Drink your beer.”

The instructions were simple, and though my brain tried to fight against them, I did as he asked.

I didn’t know how long it had been since we arrived. I had two beers. The band was still playing. The music was good. Great. It took me away from reality, allowing me to enjoy the moment.

Kane didn’t move from behind me, continuously laying his lips on my skin, moist from the beer, mixing with my sweat from the warmth of the bar.

“Let’s go,” he said as I finished my beer.

The band was winding down, and it must’ve been late. Going was the sensible thing to do, I was sure. But I didn’t want to leave. A part of me wanted to sit there on that stool, with a beer and Kane and an indie band forever.

But I got up, because deep down, I was a sensible person.

Instead of leading us out the entrance, Kane took my hand and pulled me deeper into the bar.

Though I was confused, I didn’t ask questions. I was riding the buzz of the music, the beers, the new location. I trusted Kane to take me wherever he wanted us to go.

We got a few glances as we made it through the crowd, but no one did a double take. Either the patrons of this bar were too drunk, failed to recognize him or didn’t care that there was a celebrity in their midst.



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