Page 99 of Fire
I shrug. “Seems like you got one already without doing a thing.” Her face pales, and I then realize what I just said. “Mom, I didn’t mean…I was just kidding and?—”
Her face shifts into something resembling a smile as she waves a dismissive hand. “No, it’s fine. I know what you meant.”
Silence stretches between us before I ask, “Do you think Cash will ever…”
My mom lets out a long breath. “I don’t know. I hope so. I really do, but that woman broke something in him. It will take something or someone extraordinary to put everything back together again.”
“Is that what I need to be for Zara? Extraordinary?”
She smiles, a genuine one this time, and it’s that sweet, motherly kind of smile only a child recognizes. “Yeah, you do.” She takes another sip of coffee, and I see her look toward the horizon. “But don’t forget. She needs to be extraordinary for you too. It has to go both ways.”
“Is that how I keep from sinking in the metaphorical sand?”
She laughs. “Having a solid sex life doesn’t hurt, either.”
“God, Mom,” I shudder. “Just shoot me dead right here.”
“You’re gonna be fine,” she assures me.
“How do you know?”
“Because,” she says, “I’ve never seen you so invested in something, Hen. And that—right there—is half the battle.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
ZARA
I wake up to an empty bed, which is a bummer. I’ve grown accustomed to the way Hendrix sleeps, his large body sticking halfway out of the covers because he refuses to stop snuggling up against me, even though it makes him hot.
I, on the other hand, love being wrapped up in all that warmth. He’s basically a giant heating blanket wrapped in a sexy six-pack man body. That’s why waking up without him is confusing, because I can’t tell if I’m cold due to his absence or because I’m once again feverish.
I quickly pat down my T-shirt and…no sweat to be found. That’s good.
My stomach feels fine as well. In fact, just as the thought crosses my mind, it grumbles in response.
Okay, two for two.
I swing my feet to the side of the bed and rise. Will you look at that? No dizziness. No headache. I think I might have successfully beaten the twenty-four-hour flu right on time.
I always have been the punctual type.
I head to the bathroom to take care of my morning business, even spending a minute to brush my teeth. When I’m finished, it doesn’t take long to find my long-lost boyfriend.
My cheeks heat.
Boyfriend.
I wonder when that word isn’t going to make me blush?
If I keep waking up to find him sitting in the corner of our suite with his bass held to his bare chest, probably not anytime soon.
He is so damn beautiful.
He’s wearing large headphones that are attached to an amp. His eyes are closed as he plays. It’s like he’s in another world.
I am in awe of his talent. His fingers never stop moving, working in sync to create whatever bass line is pumping through those headphones of his.
There’s no doubt in my mind that this was what he was put on this earth to do.
