Page 30 of Fracture

Zee wraps me in a hug, and they smell soothingly of rose and patchouli.

“I’m always here for you, you know that, right?”

“I know. I know you are.” I pull back from them and smile. “If you won’t let me pay, then promise you’ll come for dinner this weekend. Maybe you can bring some calm into my chaotic household.”

“It’s a deal. I’ll be there Saturday. No vermouth this time.”

I can’t help but laugh, and place a kiss on their cheek. “See you Saturday.”

“Try not to kill my man before then!” They call after me as I head outside.

“I’ll try!” I pull down my sunglasses against the harsh glare of the sun, the warm air brushing against my skin as I make my way back to the car. I pass a florist, and spy a display of peonies, and decide to buy myself a huge bunch before getting back into my Volvo.

The scent of the flowers fills my car, and I put music on as I cruise down the street back to my house. A figure is jogging down the road ahead of me, dressed in small black shorts, wearing no shirt so their tattoos are on display. I know instantly that it’s Dylan.

I consider pulling over and seeing if he wants a ride home, but he’s working out so I might be interrupting his mile. But maybe he’s gotten hot and needs a ride? He doesn’t look like he has water with him, and it’s at least 90 today. Shit.

Before I can second-guess myself too much, I pull over ahead of him, and watch him approach in the rear view mirror. He’s dripping with sweat when he stops by the car, shoulders heaving as he leans into the wound-down window.

“Heyguera,” he pants, running a hand over his sweat-soaked face.

“Hi.” The nick-nameguera- blondie - makes my insides do a little flip. “Did you want a ride? It’s so hot today.”

“I’ll get your car all sweaty.” Beads of sweat drip down his shoulders, and I hope to god he didn’t just see me swallow hard.

“I don’t care. I’d rather a sweaty car than have you get heat stroke.”

“Ah, you’re sweet.” He opens the car door, retrieving the huge bouquet of peonies before flopping down into the seat. “These are pretty, gift from someone?”

I grunt as I pull back out onto the street. “A gift from me to me. I don’t think anyone’s ever bought me flowers in my life.”

“I did.”

I glance over at him, at this huge tattooed man clutching a bouquet of pretty pink flowers, and he smiles at me.

“Remember? For your birthday? When you turned 16, you said you wanted nothing but flowers, because no one had ever bought you flowers before.”

My heart sinks. Because of course he had. He’d bought me seven bunches of roses in all different colors, and my room had smelled so good. I’d been so happy. But then that night, because it was my sixteenth, my father told me it was time to do something extra special.

I clench my eyes shut and suck in a breath.

“Stella?” Dylan’s hand is on my shoulder as I force my eyes back onto the road. “Hey, you OK?”

“I’m fine.” I brush the back of my hand over my eyes. “I’m fine, just tired. I haven’t been sleeping well.”

He reaches over and lays a hand on my thigh, and the touch is so warm and welcoming. Instantly, the sick feeling dissipates, and I just want to wrap him around me and dull all the noise in my head.

“Anything I can do?” He asks in a low voice.

I can’t help but giggle. “Anything you can do? And what would that entail?”

“I don’t know, a massage, a foot rub.” He squeezes my thigh, running his hand to the edge of my shorts and back down to my knee. “I could join you in the hot tub.”

I groan and put a hand to my forehead. “I blame the martinis, OK?”

“Hey, you want to strip off a bikini while I’m in there with you, I’m good with that.” He leans over and brushes his lips against my shoulder. “That drove me crazy, just so you know.”

Shivers erupt down my spine as his breath skates over my skin. “I was being an idiot. I can’t believe I… Did that.” I laugh lightly as he runs his fingers down my arm. “Keep doing that and I’ll crash.”

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