Page 14 of The Fire We Crave

And yet, I find myself holding my breath as he gently puts the tiniest amount of antiseptic on the tiniest speck of a cut, then applies a small Band-Aid that I’m sure won’t last more than an hour once I’ve put my sandals on.

Let me make it right.

The words seem strange. All this time, my sister, who they were to each other before she went missing…

Why should this be the thing he wants to make right?

When he lifts his head, I realize there are only inches between the two of us.

His eyes look even paler set in his tanned features, but his pupils are wide. I can see the glint of gold and russet in his hair as he grows it out. And I can smell the coffee on his breath.

He places his hands on my knees.

“Quinn…”

The word is filled with something…haunting.

“Shit,” I curse at the loud bang and footsteps on the porch. I reach for the butter knife as I scramble off the stool, ready to run, and?—

“Hey, sugar.” Strong arms wrap around my waist, holding me tightly. His chest is firm against my back. “It’s okay. It’s Atom and Ember.” The softly spoken words brush against my skin.

I don’t know what happened, how I got here. My hands shake. “What? How? I?—”

“Let me take this?” Smoke reaches for the handle of the butter knife, and I realize I’m gripping it like a weapon in a tight fist.

“Oh, God,” I gasp, and let it go into Smoke’s safe grasp. My heart races so loudly, I swear I can hear it.

Shame fills me. It’s not the first time I’ve reacted this way to an unexpected noise. But it’s the first time I’ve reacted this way in front of someone else. I turn and tuck my head intohis chest, searching for…I don’t know what. Escape from my embarrassment. An anchor to cling to.

Smoke strokes his calloused hand down my arm. “You’re safe, Quinn.”

There’s a loud knock on the door, and when it opens, Atom strides in with Ember.

Smoke takes a step away before they’re at an angle where they can see us. “You good?” The words are spoken quietly.

I force a nod, even as my heart races and I stand unable to decide whether fight or flight is the right response to all the adrenaline coursing through me right now.

“Put a fucking shirt on,” Atom complains when he walks into the kitchen.

“A man’s allowed to eat breakfast in his home with as little clothing as he likes. Only wearing the jeans so Quinn doesn’t get the shock of her life.”

Ember looks at the floor. “What happened here?”

Smoke pauses for a moment, and I don’t know what spurs me to lie to our friends. “Me, trying to balance too many things in my hand at once. Broke the plate, now his lordship is mad. I’ll clean this up. You should go.”

The tension in Smoke’s shoulders drops. “Let me go get dressed,” he says. “I’ll grab you some shoes. Stay there.”

Carefully, I walk the other way around the kitchen island to avoid the shards. “Can I get either of you coffee?”

Atom shakes his head. “Not for me. I have to ride out in a couple of minutes. I’ll get some at the clubhouse.”

Ember grimaces. “Urgh. The coffee at the clubhouse has the acidity of paint stripper. It’s a wonder you have a throat left after drinking it all these years.”

He strokes a hand over her hair as it hangs down the back of her neck, and smiles at her. “Should we talk about all the things you do that might wreck your throat?”

Ember blushes bright red and smacks him across the chest. “No. We won’t. Maybe you should go wait out by your bike.”

“Your wish is my command. See you later, sweetheart.”

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