Red Hair, Black Soul (Red & Black #1)

18 | Red as a beetroot

"And why did you need me to do it?"

"I didn't." I sent her a brief grin. "But you were so red I thought you could use some cool air yourself. What's going on, by the way? Were you hot, too?"

"No."

Ada curls her arms around herself for emphasis. She's changed before the dinner started, coming up with some poor excuse about not feeling well and having slept the whole day. Her Mom gave her out, though, when she asked me if I liked the stuffing Ada had made. I think the moment was the apogee of her redness.

The jeans and black t-shirt she's wearing now don't seem like any protection from the cold if the goose bumps spreading along the skin of her bare arms are any indication.

"You're cold." I observe.

Again, "No."

I sigh. This is going better than I imagined.

"I wish I could give you my jacket, if only I had it here with me." I tell her honestly "I left it on the hook in the hall but if you're going to freeze to death, I can make the sacrifice and go grab it."

"Don't bother." She shakes her head. "I'm not cold."

"Right." I don't believe her, but if there's anything I've learned about her during the few weeks I've known her, it's that she's even more stubborn than I am and arguing with her leads nowhere. "So, back to the topic." I rock back on the heels of my boots. "Why so red?"

"I wasn't red." She protests.

My brow arches. "You were. You still are."

For some reason, her cheeks flush even more. "You're seeing things."

"Uh-uh."

I take a step closer towards her and she takes one step back "So you want to tell me you're not read as a beetroot right now?"

"I'm not."

I take another step forward, she mirrors my action in the opposite direction. "You're not Ms. Tomato?"

"Nope."

"You're as cool as a cucumber."

She lifts a brow. "Could you stop with the vegetable comparisons?"

"Sure." Step forward. Step back. "But only when you admit you're red."

"I'm not red."

Another step closer, another step back. Only this time, where I still have plenty of space to go, Ada is limited by a wall pressed to her back. I can only imagine the string of curses running in her head when she realizes she's cornered. I don't give her the chance to escape, though, as I take three more steps, stopping a mere foot away from her.

"What about now?" I murmur, leaning in so that we're now at eye level. I don't know if Ada realizes it or not, but the girl is short.

"Nuh-uh."

Am I imagining things like she said or does she sound a little out of breath?

Intrigued by her sudden lack of self-confidence, I close the last of the distance between us. We're now so close that my chest brushes hers with every breath, and thanks to the speed she's inhaling with, it happens quite often. I slowly raise my hand and grasp the loose strand of hair that has escaped her high ponytail and turn it between my fingers. I don't miss the way her breath hitches and her body freezes altogether.

"You look like you caught on fire."

"And you look like you want to get punched again."

I smile. She was aiming for a threat, but all she managed to do is made me enjoy it even more.