Page 8 of Burn for You

“Did you like him?”

“Well, I did get caught fucking him in a supply closet, so I’d say I didn’tdislikehim.”

She smacks my arm. “You know what I mean. Like him, as in more than a quickie in a supply closet like him.”

“You know me better than that.” I take a sip of my hot chocolate, avoiding her gaze in the hopes that she’ll drop the subject.

She sets the llama down on the coffee table and turns to faceme. “You know, if you just gave someone a chance, they might surprise you.”

“This sounds vaguely familiar.”

“And look how well that turned out,” she says, referencing when I told her to take a chance on Caio. But that was different.

“I’m not like you, Isla. I’m not going to fall in love, get married, have kids, and a golden retriever. I came to terms with that a long time ago.”

“It doesn’t have to be like that.” Her voice is sad. “I know what happened changed your views, but?—”

“The track record of men in my life is enough to put me off until I’m eighty, and you know that.” My father abandoning my mother when I was born was the perfect foundation for my unwavering distrust in men.

“Not every guy is like that.” She’s not talking about my father anymore.

“I know,” I grab her hand. “And I know you just want me to be happy, but I’m far happier by myself than putting myself in another situation like last time.”

She sighs, knowing I won’t crack—not during this conversation, anyway. We’ve been over this conversation more than once in the last two years. “You promise you’re happy?”

I cuddle up beside her. “With you? Always. Plus”—I nod towards the tv—“Swayze keeps me company on quiet nights.”

She rolls her eyes and nudges me with her elbow, but she’s smiling when she picks up her hot chocolate from the table.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been around as much lately.”

I shake my head. “Don’t be. You deserve to be happy too, and that man makes you stupid happy.” A blush crawls up her cheeks at the mention of Caio. “We had to grow up and have our own lives eventually,” I tease.

She just smiles.

“So has Caio said much about this local food festival? What should we expect?” I ask.

“Not really, but Marina said she’s taking a picnic blanket forus. There’s going to be music, food and wine. I think that’s the gist of it.”

“Perfect,” I say, settling into the couch.

“Is Heath coming?”

“I haven’t heard, but I hope so.”

“I feel like we haven’t seen him in ages. When was the last time? The gallery fundraiser?” Isla asks.

“I think so,” I reply. “You know him though—I’m sure he’s just spending quality time with Betty.”

Isla snorts. “Yeah, I’m sure that’s what it is.”

I chuckle as I imagine Heath sitting on the couch and watching tv with his favorite goat.

We met Heath months ago when we spent a day out on Caio’s yacht, and he quickly became someone I can’t imagine my life without.

He’s quiet, and he’s not around as much as I wished he would be, but he’s always got everyone’s best interests at heart. He’s easily one of the most caring guys I’ve ever met, and I'm surprised he doesn’t have a hoard of girls lined up waiting for his affection. I’d be first in line, except something about him just feels brotherly. Like he’ll always have my back, and I’ll have his.

I feel like that with everyone here. This group of friends who quickly felt like family made leaving my old life behind so much easier, and I can’t help but feel grateful for them as I sit here cuddled up with my best friend. I may be on the other side of the world, but I’m home.

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