Page 43 of Fire in You

I really should be asleep.

Tomorrow would be a long day—a big day. I would be meeting with potential investors, and not only was I representing the Lima Academy, I represented my father. The last thing I needed to be was half-asleep while trying to pay attention to what everyone was saying.

But there was too much noise—noise inside my head.

Lifting one hand, I folded it over my left ear and pressed down. The whirl of the fan faded until I could barely hear anything. True silence. I closed my eyes again and held my breath. In the stillness of my room, I acknowledged that I had wasted years of my life after being on the receiving end of a second chance. That was something hard to face even though I’d been doing just that over the last couple of weeks. To know one was only existing and not living.

I was starting to live, though. Truly. I believed that. Tears pricked my eyes. I could try harder, and I would . . . I would buy more bookcases. Then, when I was home over Thanksgiving, I would bring some of my most favorite books back.

I could do more.

I needed to do more.

Then, finally, my thoughts quieted, and for a few blessed seconds, there was nothing outside or inside me. Nothing.

My lungs started to burn, and only then did I draw in another deep breath. Lifting my hand from my ear, I touched the scar again and then shook my head. Cheeks damp, I pressed my lips together and didn’t move for a long moment.

Throwing off the covers, I crept out into the shadowy living room. “Rhage?” I whispered. The dull overhead lights over the island cast a soft glow into the living room. I saw Rhage sitting by the end table.

“Sorry,” I said. His ears twitched. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

I knelt and extended my arms. Rhage didn’t move for a moment, but then he rose and darted to my arms. I picked Rhage up, holding him to my chest as I turned and walked back to bed. I climbed in and laid him down beside me. Maybe he sensed I needed kitty cuddles, because he didn’t run away from me or try to bite me. He curled up against my stomach and quickly fell asleep.

It was a long time before I dozed off, haunted by memories of a long-ago night that now seemed like yesterday.

Chapter 13

Staring out the window at the rapidly darkening sky, I opened and closed my hands over and over as Brock pulled out of the parking lot of the Academy.

The whole day had been . . . weird. My mood was somewhere between eating a bag of Cheetos in one sitting and randomly wanting to paint and redesign my entire apartment. Eating the Cheetos would’ve felt amazing at the time but would’ve ended up making me feel gross. Painting was a no-go since I didn’t own the apartment. And I sucked at interior design, but yeah, that was my mood all day.

The only thing I managed to do was lock down a time when Teresa and Avery could bring the guys and come to the Academy. Excitement poured through Avery’s voice on the phone at the prospect of achieving what had long since been a dream of hers and Teresa’s, and she also couldn’t wait to tell Cam he would be having dinner with his idol.

Scheduling things with people who had kids or were ready to pop one out proved to be difficult. We were looking at the second week of November, a Friday evening.

And now I was on my way to this dinner with the investors, and all I wanted to do was eat that bag of Cheetos while curled up on the couch, marathoning old episodes ofSupernatural.

That wasn’t going to happen.

“You okay over there?”

Tearing my attention from the window, my gaze flickered over the interior of the extremely expensive car. I’d never really paid attention to the cars in the parking lot, and since I usually arrived and left before Brock, I didn’t know what he drove.

But I wasn’t surprised to see that it was a sleek, black two-door Porsche waiting for me Wednesday morning. Seeing the car made me want to ask Brock once more why he’d taken this position. I knew he’d agreed that he could live comfortably without working, so it wasn’t like he’d blown through all the money from his fights and sponsorships like so many athletes did.

I glanced over at Brock and felt an unsteady flip in my chest. His eyes were on the road as he turned left, onto Route 45.

I’d never been a facial-hair kind of girl. Ever. But the scruff of his was filling in, and it lookedgoodon him.Way good. I couldn’t help but think what it would feel like when he kissed—

Okay.

So didn’t need to think about that.

Bad life choice right there.

“Yeah,” I answered, focusing straight ahead as I smoothed my hands over the pencil skirt I’d worn. “Just got a lot on my mind.”

“Like what?”

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