Page 78 of Into the Fire

That’s what I’d sit down to tell the guys.

It couldn’t be though. It could never be. Cole would never allow it. I was sure Enzo would be the same. Fox maybe, and Ethan would give me the world if I asked for it.

Anson was my friend. That was it. Nothing more.

It was how it was supposed to be.

It was all it would ever be.

But why did it hurt so much?

TWENTY-FOUR

FOX

Weeks passed after a big send off for Jamie in which Rosalie and her cried and kept hugging each other.

There was no news on Bianca. We considered that good news. It was easier to believe that over the alternative.

We weren’t stupid enough to really think she was happily dancing on a beach somewhere. In this world, if you came up missing, it was for one reason only.

But not hearing of a body being found was the best news we could get because it meant there was still hope.

Hope was all we had to live on here.

I watched Rosalie from my seat as she performed for the class. She’d made it through her group project like I knew she would, her and Anson’s choreography earning a standing ovation from the class. I had to admit, I was the first one on my feet when they’d finished.

Carefully, I glanced at Anson two seats away from me.

He sat forward in his seat, nodding, a grin on his face and his foot tapping to the rhythm while she played her guitar and belted out her lyrics.

If there was ever someone in this world who supported everything she did, even when she added pineapple to her pizza, it was him.

I hated that about him, but I also loved it.

She needed that in her life.

We all tried to support her, but it was hard on our end because a lot of that support meant we had to let go just a little in order for her to excel. It meant we worked harder to keep her safe, all while fearing for the worst. The entire ordeal with the kings made us realize just how precarious everything was. If someone was brave enough to steal Bianca De Santis, I knew they wouldn’t hesitate to take my Rosie.

Rosalie finished her song to applause and catcalls and came off the small stage and back to her seat, leaving her guitar in a stand against the wall.

“Incredible, Rosie,” I said, giving her a quick kiss as I greeted her before pulling her down into her seat between me and Anson.

He grinned at her. “You already know what I’m going to say.”

“I was rough on the bridge and need to work on breathing,” she said, nodding. “I know. I’ll get it next time.”

He chuckled. “No. That was amazing. You did a fantastic job. I have no critique for you.”

She raised her brows. “Really? The great Anson Beyers is silent?”

“Not silent.” He gave her a wink and smirk that, a few months ago, would have had me out of my seat and ready to fight, but this time, I just chuckled softly. “Just no critique.”

“Oh, please.” She let out a little laugh and rolled her eyes. “Just say it.”

“I’m not going to say it,” he said, shaking his head, that tiny smile still in place.

“Ani, just say it.”

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