Playing with Fire

the worst day of your life gave me the best version of you

Because at the end of the day, we are all just phoenixes, rising from our own ashes, taking flight to an unknown destination, our wingtips forged by flames.

You don’t complete me, Grace Shaw. You create a better me.

if you’re not scared, you’re not brave.

I’ll walk through fire for you.

I'm sorry I was less than you deserve, Tex, but I'm afraid I can't let you walk away from this. You see, it's too good, too rare to give up. I said in the cafeteria you weren't my girlfriend, and you weren't." I paused, watching her face twist with shock again. "You were my everything. Still are, baby. You wanted me to make you feel beautiful, but there's no one half as pretty as you are in the whole goddamn world. Please ..." My voice broke, and I bent the knee, like I'd always planned to. "Don't break my heart so soon after putting it back together." The air was thick in the auditorium as everyone held their breath. I was pretty sure for every second that ticked without her reaction, I lost an entire year of my life. Silver lining: a full minute of that, and I'd drop dead and wouldn't have to witness my own, very open disgrace. Finally, Grace found her voice. "On your feet, St. Claire," she whispered under her breath. "A king doesn't bow to others." I got up and scooped her up, giving people something to look at and talk about for years in this godforsaken town, pressing a dirty kiss to her lips and almost breaking her jaw in the process. "He does for his queen.

She looked so much like an angel, sometimes I wanted to run a hand over her bare back just to make sure she didn’t have wings.

Turn around and look at me, goddammit. Then you’d see I’d rather see my balls eaten by a tiger than watch you go out with someone who isn’t me

For some reason, West St. Claire wasn’t very happy he’d been born, and knowing that nearly undid my soul, breaking it to pieces.

Grandmomma always said people were like tacos—the harder they were, the easier they broke. Being soft meant being adaptive, more flexible. “When you’re soft, you can contain more. And if you contain more, the world can’t break you.

I only have one condition,” she warned. Was it the moon she wanted me to give her? I was open to that. I’d give her the sun, too. I just needed a little time, and maybe a loan or two. And definitely good life insurance

I couldn’t even imagine her holding hands with someone else.

We can skip the parts where other guys touch you,” West grumbled.

I was getting the fucking girl. Whether I deserved her or not.

Nice claws, baby. Can’t wait to feel them on my back.

I had an inkling Grace had gone out with Easton. I also had an inkling Easton was getting murdered tonight by yours truly.

On your feet St.Claire, a king doesn't bow to others He does for his queen

As I watched him there, I didn’t see the most popular guy in college. The sex god. The illegal fighter. I saw the loneliest boy I’d ever laid eyes on. Sweet, confused, and lost. And I thought, bitterly, he didn’t even know that across the parking lot sat a girl just like him.

Loving him with every piece of my heart … and a little bit more.

All I wanted was to have her back as one and, if possible, not get asked by Easton to be the best man at their wedding. Unless he wanted his bride stolen

I won’t let you fall, Tex,” he said quietly.

But I wouldn’t be alive. Not really. I would be wasting oxygen, space, and resources, going back to not-so-secretly wishing I’d die. The realization dawned on me like a cold shower. I didn’t want to die when I was with Grace. I wanted to live. To laugh. To love. To date her and nibble on her neck and listen to her talking about plays and nineties movies and defending fanny packs vehemently. I’d been relishing life—actively enjoying it, even—for months, and I didn’t even realize it. I didn’t want to die anymore. Somewhere along the road, the idea of veering my bike off the road when I picked up speed stopped appealing to me. I no longer imagined what it would feel like to hurl myself off a cliff. I stopped walking into the ring wanting the asshole in front of me to throw a punch that would send me into cardiac arrest. And it was all because of Grace ‘Texas’ Shaw.

Courtney. You sweet child of mine.” The only person who loved me thought I was someone else.

You cannot let it define you. Or stop you. Not anymore. Anxiety is a hungry beast. Feed it, and it will grow. Starve it, and it will die. This is my final decision. I’m sorry.

Every part of you is lickable. Nothing is going to change it. Especially your battle scars.

I didn’t feel ugly in his arms, even when his hand touched my scar.

You are my business.

Not everything is about you, Texas. In fact, very few things are. It’s a blessing and a curse, really. Knowing the world doesn’t revolve around your sassy little ass. Sometimes a guy just wants a steak

I want to spend the rest of my life with you, because everything that came before you was a fucking waste. You don’t complete me, Grace Shaw. You create a better me.” He draws a quick breath, shaking his head. “Fucking hell, that’s my cliché quota for the century. If it makes it any better, I thought about every single one of those things that I said. I didn’t check Pinterest once for inspiration like East suggested.” “Eat shit, St. Claire. Pinterest’s got some rad ideas!” I hear Easton yell from the corner of the street, behind a red-bricked building. I’m giggling and hiccupping from excitement now. They’re all huddled around the corner, waiting for my answer. “What do you say, Tex? Wanna walk through fire together?

Reality is overrated. Say yes to magic.