Read Online The Burning City by Megan Morgan - Free Book Online

better stay on my good side, or I’ll make her eat your face.”
    Natalie and Cindy stuck around until after dark, helping unpack bins and clean up. Sam raged every time he discovered they’d taken something from the house. At least his cars were still in the garage—albeit rifled through like everything else.
    “I’m bringing a professional cleaning company in,” he told them as Cindy and Natalie were getting ready to leave. “I’m not opening that fridge myself. And I don’t even know how you get six months’ worth of dust out of furniture.”
    “Rich boy’s never had to clean,” June said. “He only knows how to do this with his hands.” She did a mocking Queen of England wave.
    Sam jabbed her in the side, and she leaped away, grinning.
    “I like her.” Natalie smiled. “Are you coming to the beach party, June?”
    “Do I look like the kind of gal who misses a beach party?”
    Hugs and good-byes were exchanged, and Cindy cuddled Dipity one last time, whispering to her to be good and that she’d visit her soon. She left with tears in her eyes and the cat in June’s arms.
    “Why don’t you go upstairs and get a shower?” Sam said. “My bathroom is wonderful. Then we can get some rest. I don’t know about you, but I’m exhausted.”
    “Am I actually going to be allowed to rest?”
    He waved. “It depends. Can I do anything else with my hands?”
    Upstairs, she tried to pretend it was her first time seeing Sam’s room. He pushed bins into corners, muttering. He told her he would change the bedclothes so they weren’t sleeping in a tomb.
    His bathroom was indeed nice: big, white tile, a huge mirror, two sinks, and a massive tub as well as a glass shower. The room didn’t seem to have collected much grime during six months of disuse; that was the nice thing about smooth nonporous surfaces.
    She didn’t lock the door, and she expected him to come creeping in while she showered, but he didn’t. She was disappointed. He didn’t even need to get in the shower with her; he could perv at her through the glass.
    After she got out, she took her time drying off, brushing her hair, and going through some semblance of a beauty routine. Sam had all sorts of lotions and potions in a cabinet next to the sinks. She rolled her eyes at his collection of cologne, taking up one entire shelf. Men.
    She blow-dried her hair, something she hadn’t done in a while. Now that she’d actually had it colored and cut, she could bring herself to style it again.
    She pulled on an oversized black T-shirt from her bag and a pair of panties, and finally emerged into Sam’s bedroom.
    Sam sat on the bed, which now had different sheets and a red blanket on it. The scent of Febreeze hung on the air.
    He had his laptop on the bed in front of him. He looked up at her. “You should put some pants on.”
    She padded across the room, stroking her fingers through her dried, silky hair. “Are you serious?”
    “Yes.”
    She stopped next to the dresser and glanced at the pictures. “Why should I put pants on? Why don’t you take yours off?”
    He clicked around on the computer. “Please.”
    He was serious. She stood staring at him.
    He nodded to the bathroom. “Go get a pair of pants out of your bag, put them on, and then come here. I have something to show you. Just do it.”
    She huffed and walked back to the bathroom. She didn’t want to go outside. Or meet anybody. Those were the only two reasons she could imagine needing pants right now.
    She pulled a pair of black yoga pants out of her bag, yanked them on, and returned to the room. They were a little too long and hung over her feet.
    Sam patted the bed beside him. “Come here.”
    She walked over to the bed. “What, do you have bedbugs or something? You don’t want my ass getting bitten?” She flopped down on the bed.
    Sam picked up the laptop and turned to her. He plunked it in her lap.
    She was confused for a moment, but then she saw the screen. She clamped her hands