Burning Daylight (Defying the Stars, #1)

by Emily McIntire

“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?”

He cocks his head. “Appreciate what?” I throw my hands up. “Did you want a thank-you or not?” “Are you always so combative?” “Are you always this insufferable?” His smirk spreads, dimples and all. “This is fun, getting to know each other like this.” I scoff. “I do not want to know you.” “Ouch, Princess.” He grips his chest and staggers like I’ve wounded him. “Straight to the heart. Ever heard of etiquette?”

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.”

“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.

“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.”

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

Heat pours through my body at the close proximity. Roman’s voice is low, and he leans in, almost whispering to Art. “Try to touch her again, and I don’t give a fuck who your dad is, or whether you own this place, you’ll be leaving in an ambulance.”

And all I can think about is how it would feel to bury myself inside of her. To wake up next to her; her leg tangled over mine, and her arm flung across my chest like she’s claiming me in her sleep. To hear the quiet sigh she makes when the sun hits her face, or the way she hums without realizing it while she writes her stories. To be allowed to know those tiny, ordinary moments like scripture. To have all of her. Not just in the dark, but in the light—in front of everyone—soft and real and mine.

“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.”

“Love doesn’t survive in the dark, Juliette. It demands for you to step into the light.” She looks at me, her eyes sharp. I swallow. “What does that mean?” “It means if you ever want to see the morning, you have to forsake the night.” I lift a brow, my chest heavy. “And the night in this scenario is my family?” Beverly laughs. “Your family is midnight, Juliette.”

“Don’t you ever think you’re alone in this,” I grit out against her lips. “Don’t you get it? Don’t you know by now that you consume me?” She whimpers, and I grip her cheeks in my hands like I’m afraid she’ll disappear. “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. His gaze flickers, and I let my thumb trail down to his jaw. His stubble scrapes against my skin. “Okay, Trouble,” I whisper. “Let’s climb the walls they built for us, and get our happy ending.”

“I need you to hear me,” I tell her, my voice thick. “No matter what happens, I will love you for the rest of this life, and every one that comes after. You are my reason, Juliette. I’ll spend every moment sketching you into the corners of this world.” I pause, swallowing hard. “And when I’m gone, I’ll paint you in the sky.”

“I’ll paint you in the sky, Little Rose,” he promises. “Then I’ll write you in the stars, Trouble,” I whisper back. “That way we’ll always be together.”