Page 7 of Fire in You

“I think I like this Jillian,” he said as if he were sharing some highly kept secret.

I stared at him, unable to process what that meant.

Brock’s head tilted to the side. “Who is that guy you’re with at the table?”

Jerking back, I about toppled over backward. “I . . . I can’t even believe you’re asking that question.”

His brows furrowed together. “Why? It’s a valid question.”

My eyes widened. “That is sonota valid question.”

Straightening, he leaned against the wall like he had all the time in the world and we weren’t standing outside of the restrooms. “Is he your boyfriend?”

Struck speechless once more, all I could do was stare at him while one part of me wanted to point out it was none of his damn business and the other half wanted to demand to know why he was even asking that question.

I did neither of those things.

“Excuse me,” I said, stepping around him. “I have to get back to my table.”

“Seriously?” He pushed off the wall, wrapping a large hand around my arm, stopping me. “We haven’t seen each other in years and you’re just going to walk away? No hug? No ‘how have you been?’ Nothing?”

“Sounds about right.” I pulled on my arm, and after a few seconds he let go.

He studied me for a moment and the teasing smile faded away into a grim line. “I guess I can’t really blame you.”

Every muscle in my body tensed.This is so wrong.I couldn’t help but think that, because Brock and I . . . we used to be inseparable despite the age difference. It was always us—me chasing after him, tagging along, and clamoring for his attention, and it had always been him letting me chase, including me in everything he did and focusing on me like I was the only person in the world.

Until that night.

Until I realized it had always been me wanting him and him wanting everyone but me.

“No,” I whispered, hating myself a little for what I was saying. “You can’t blame me.”

A muscle flexed in his jaw as he nodded. Heart pounding, I turned around and hurried back to the table without looking behind me. I had no idea how long I’d been gone, but guessing by how everyone was staring at me when I slid into my chair, it had been a little too long.

Avery smiled tentatively at me.

“Is everything okay?” Grady asked, touching my arm.

I started to respond, but before I could, I heard only part of what Cam said, “Holy shit.”

A shadow fell over the table, a shadow that originated directly from behind me. Avery’s eyes widened and her mouth formed a perfect O. The tiny hairs along the back of my neck rose.

No, he didn’t.

Hesodidn’t follow me back to my table.

Cam was rising from his chair, a look of pure adoration etched into his handsome face. “Holy shit, man. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you.”

Yep.

He’d followed me to my table.

Looking to my right, I watched Brock clasp Cam’s hand and then they exchanged one of those one-arm man hugs. All I could do was sit there as Brock and Cam spoke to one another. I had no idea what they were saying, and it probably had nothing to do with my hearing. I was concentrating on not standing, picking up my chair and tossing it at Brock.

Then Brock was standing to my right, looking directly at Grady. He held the man’s stare like he used to hold the stares of his opponents during weigh-ins and before the matches, smiling narrowly.

Clearing his throat, Grady removed his hand from my arm.

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