Page 84 of Burning Embers

“You seriously are the best foster sister-slash-best friend a guy could ask for,” he tells me excitedly, putting me on my feet.

I snort and give a dramatic bow. “A pleasure to oblige.”

I move to claim the seat beside Jake as Lissa hands me a bowl and spoon. I say my thanks and quickly pour myself some cereal. As I eat the sugary goodness, I open my phone once more and check the messages from Grayson.

Grayson

I miss you.

Grayson

I feel like we haven’t been able to hang out in a while, just the two of us.

Grayson

There are always people around.

Grayson

Wanna do something tomorrow?

The butterflies in my chest turn radioactive as a ravenous heat burns through me. I swear my cheeks are just as hot.

A part of me—the part that always secretly harbored a crush on Grayson—yearns to say yes. But…

Izzy

What would your girlfriend think about that?

Three little dots appear beside Grayson’s name, indicating that he’s typing out a reply, before they disappear. No new messages appear.

With a sigh, I turn my phone face down on the counter and take another bite of my cereal.

Jake nudges me with his elbow, and when I turn to face him, one of his eyebrows is arched quizzically.

“Everything okay?” he mouths, and I offer him a feeble smile and shrug.

I haven’t told anyone about my friendship with Grayson, and I’m not sure I want to. I can already imagine the pity I’ll receive when people learn that I’m in love with a man who has a girlfriend.

Shame washes over me, and I begin to jab at my cereal bowl a little more aggressively.

I need to get over this stupid crush on Grayson, and soon. It’s not fair to our friendship, him, or his girlfriend. And honestly, it’s not fair to me either. I refuse to allow my heart to break any further than it already has because my feelings for him refuse to subside.

Jake clears his throat, drawing my attention to him. “So you’re coming to the game tonight, right?”

“Yeah. I have to take pictures for Yearbook.” I smirk at him conspiratorially. “So I better not see you picking your nose, or I promise those images will be on the front page.”

Jake throws a hand against his chest in mock offense. “There is nothing wrong with a little gold digging!”

“You’re disgusting,” Lissa interjects, throwing a piece of dry cereal at his face.

She’s the only one of us not sitting at the counter. Instead, she stands on the opposite side, shoveling mouthfuls of cereal into her mouth as if she’s in a cereal eating contest. Is she even swallowing between bites?

“I thought Ansel was in charge of photographing this football game,” she says.

“Scary Ansel?” Jake asks, blinking.

“Oh, shut up.” I roll my eyes, even as a grimace takes over my face. “And yeah, he is.”

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