Page 54 of Fastlander Phoenix

She really, really liked him. And perhaps just as importantly, she liked who she was when she was with him.

The light ahead of them turned red, and she leaned toward him and held the camera up to take a selfie. He hesitated for a moment, but then pushed the console between them up and out of the way, unbuckled her seatbelt, pulled her right up against his rib cage, and cupped the side of her neck as rested his face against the side of her throat. It was a compromise. He didn’t want his face exposed in pictures, and she understood that. Hell, even his registry picture to the Fastlanders was just flames.

She leaned her cheek against him, hiding his face more, and smiled for the picture.

He kissed her throat, and told her she could keep sitting right next to him as he pulled through the newly-green light.

So she buckled into that part of the bench seat, and then reviewed the photo. “I look really happy,” she murmured, more to herself than anything.

He let off a long sigh, and his hand went back to her thigh. Affectionate monster. “I like that you said that.”

“I’m happy,” she said it again as she looked up at him.

“Then that’s your post.”

“Really?”

“Sure.”

“But you’re in this picture. Are you sure about it being on the internet?”

“Woman, stop talking me out of it. Post it if you want.”

“I want to,” she whispered. She quickly typed out a caption that spoke to her, and posted the picture of them.

When he pulled his truck up to the clearing in front of his house, he parked and checked her page on his phone. “Happy girl,” he read aloud.

He “liked” her photo, and she let off a squeal. “Wreck motherfreaking Itall just liked my picture. He liked my picture!”

He ducked his gaze, but she caught it before he got out of the truck.

“Are you blushing?” she asked.

“I don’t blush. I’m just hot.”

“Yeah you are, you sexy King Kong ding-dong.”

“No, I feel hot like I’m overheating.”

“Oh. Want me to douse you with the water hose?”

“Maybe. Thinking of your family situation makes me angry.”

She came around the front of his truck, adjusting the strap of her purse that had twisted. “You don’t have to be angry about it. I am okay.”

“Yeah, but you’re so fuckin’ cool, Timber. I really hope you know that. You aren’t some throwaway kid. They are missing out. They are. You deserved better than all that.”

He was getting worked up, and the air around him felt too hot. She had to take a step back to save her skin from the heat.

The brand on her arm began throbbing, just in memory of the pain his fire could create.

“Wreck,” she whispered. “I’m really okay. Everything is okay.”

He ran his hand down his jaw, and there was something there in his eyes. Something almost apologetic. Something pleading for understanding.

“Get in the house,” he said, and began walking toward the road.

“Wreck—”

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