Page 39 of Burn Point

“You, stepping in for police officers.”

“If you mean do I have their backs in altercations? The answer is yes. We look out for each other. I don’t go looking for trouble, but I’m for damn sure not going to stand by and just let a bad thing happen if I can help defuse the situation.”

She swallowed thickly and looked to the stage where the next artist was getting set up. I studied the set of her jaw, the straightness of her spine. For whatever reason, she was upset that I’d been involved.

“Hey.” I nudged her with an elbow. “Are you okay?”

She offered me a tight smile. “It was just a little scary watching you walk into that situation is all. But it sounds like you have experience and know what you are doing.”

I nodded. “You can bet we would’ve kept the situation contained. Besides, we had plenty of backup. You weren’t in any danger.”

Jordan’s gaze searched mine for a moment, then she looked away. Were she any other woman, I’d have wrapped my arms around her, because even though she’d said she was fine, she looked rattled. But she wasn’t any other woman. She was Jordan, my Skippy, and I was afraid that if I wrapped my arms around her, I’d not want to let go.

I was frustrated, or maybe bitter, that we’d clicked so quickly on so many levels, and yet nothing could come of the obvious attraction between us. Because she was leaving. I wouldn’t be a good friend if I held her back. But that didn’t mean I had to like it. Best to stop the hurt before it had a chance to start.

Chapter 9

Jordan

I stood in the doorway and admired my newly-finished van. It wasn’t totally complete. I still had a few minor things to finish up. But as she stood, I could move in and hit the road.

The thought of leaving sent a pang of confusion through me.

Part of me was ready to get the hell out of dodge and start this new adventure. Once I’d decided on my plan, the wanderlust burned brighter than ever. More even than before I’d allowed Gerry to extinguish my spirit.

Everything I’d been through—moving away, the tornado, relying on Nate—had all strengthened my resolve that my independence was key.

But another part of me was riddled with insecurity. I’d laid down more roots in this town in the last month than I had in the two-ish months before the storm. Leaving my new friends would be hard, and that wasn’t usually an issue considering how often I’d moved as a kid. Although, with the new age of technology, I could video call and text and chat with everyone on a regular basis.

Plus, I could always come back.

Hell. I could go anywhere I wanted.

Making this new lifestyle a success had to be my priority.

I finished making up my new bed and surveyed my work. I still needed to test my setup and make sure I was comfortable, but mostly, I was ready.

Maybe I’d try sleeping out here tonight.

Some space between me and Nate would be good anyway.

In the week since the concert, he’d been testy. At first, I’d tried to find out what was upsetting him, but after a day of his attitude and non-responses, I’d decided I had better things to do than tiptoe around him. And his waltzing into that fight had left me unsettled, more than I wanted to admit. So when he was off duty, I worked in the van, and the days that he was on duty, I worked in the house.

I’d thrown myself into finishing this vehicle. Now, all that was left to do was to move my clothes in, gas her up, and I was ready to roll. I ran back to the house to grab my workbag and a couple of personal things and moved them to the camper.

I’d finished up a critique letter when I heard a tap at the door. Nate’s head appeared in the doorway. His gaze traveled over the van, lingering first on the bed, then on my workstation.

Bags sat heavy under his eyes, his expression was drawn, and he avoided looking directly at me.

“Have I been such a sorry roommate that you decided to move out?” he asked, his voice low in the quiet van.

My heart fluttered. This was a new side of him I hadn’t seen before. Remorseful.

I’d been so intent on avoiding him because I didn’t want to deal with his attitude. Now that he was here in front of me, I realized it had been a good thing to put some distance between us, because I was struggling to stay in the friend-zone.

The easy way out would be to assure him that everything was fine. To smile and let it go.

But we’d been honest with each other from the get-go, and I didn’t feel the need to sugarcoat anything anymore. Not after the hell I’d been through. If he couldn’t take me being honest with him, so be it.

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