Burning Daylight (Defying the Stars, #1)

by Emily McIntire

To the ones who loved anyway.

My only love sprung from my only hate, Too early seen unknown, and known too late! Prodigious birth of love is it to me That I must love a loathed enemy. WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE, ROMEO & JULIET

Teenage Dirtbag – Wheatus

we can’t be friends (wait for your love) – Ariana Grande

I Love You, I’m Sorry – Gracie Abrams

Paris – The Chainsmokers

“Then

don’t be a cunt.” My father chuckles. “You know what they say—you are what you eat. How is your wife, by the way?”

How two people fell in love despite being promised to others, and how it ended in despair.

Until she told me one of them was a Calloway, and the other a Montgomery.

He’d jump up on his soapbox, creating visions of death and destruction where civil hands were stained with civil blood and fierce love went to die.

The Calloway Kings (and Queen)

“Fine, don’t tell me. What’s in a name, anyway?”

He nods. “See you when you come back.” “You’ll be waiting a while.” “Guess I’ve got a lot of daylight to burn, then.”

“Sometimes the smallest things take up the most room in your heart.” I purse my lips, thrown by the response. “That’s oddly profound.” He nods solemnly, his hand to his chest. “Winnie the Pooh said that.” “Of course he did.” I laugh. “Leave it to a stuffed bear to make you sound enlightened.” “There it is.” He grins. “That mean streak of yours. Still incredibly hot, by the way.”

And then I chase after my mystery girl.

“God, you’re like a lost puppy,” she mutters. My lips curve up, attraction flaring to life in my chest. Damn, she’s fun to rile up. She’s so wound tight and ready to snap. “Does that mean you’ll pet me if I’m a good boy?”

Her tone doesn’t piss me off, but it does make me think of how badly I want to fuck the attitude right out of her. How easy it would be to press her up against the wall and give her mouth something to wrap around besides the cutting words she loves to throw.

“We were just talking,” my girl replies. “Go tell Dimitri we’re ready.”

A slow grin blooms on my face. “I can wait.” She grabs the door handle, glancing at me from over her shoulder. “You’ll be waiting a while.” And then, just like the first time we met, she’s gone.

“I don’t normally do this, you know?” she says. The corner of my mouth lifts. “Good. I’m territorial.” “What’s that mean?” “It means you’re mine.”

“Maybe you just didn’t see me.” He takes a slow sip of his coffee without looking away. “Impossible.” “Is it?”

“There’s no world that exists where I wouldn’t see you.”

“When the prince of the dead calls, you answer.”

“That sketchbook’s the east,” he whispers. “And you, Juliette, are the sun.”

“That tasted like a sin, not a prayer,” she says, her tone breathy and inviting.

“Then give me my sin again,” I rasp.

“Because every time you smile,” I say, “every time you give me that little look like you can’t decide if you want to throttle me or kiss me, I want to keep you forever.”

“Because I’m tired of pretending like I don’t feel you in everything I do.”

Across the stem, in jagged letters, it says: “And with her kiss, I die.” My chest seizes and then my gaze snags on the corner. RMO.

“I told you, Juliette. I’m going to paint you into everything.”

“What if the people I’ve been told to hate are the ones I want to love the most?”

“Love doesn’t survive in the dark, Juliette. It demands for you to step into the light.”

“I’m so in love with you, I’ve forgotten how to exist without you,” I say. “I love you like I was made to love you. Like I came into this world just so you could carve out my heart and leave yourself inside it.”

“My only love sprung from my only hate,” I murmur, caressing his face.

But if it comes because of love…” He smiles faintly. “Who am I to stand in the way?”

“You make it sound so tragic.” My chest tightens. He pauses, eyes gleaming. “Sometimes, the world needs a little tragedy to move forward.”

“Love her. Choose her. These families are cursed.” He cries out in clear pain, and then his eyes focus on everyone else, and he tries to sit up. Somehow, he makes his voice strong. “Do you hear me? A plague on both your houses!”

“If this were a play, we’d be in the final act. The masks are off. The villains are dead. The lovers are reunited. All that’s left is the curtain call.”