Page 85 of Turn Up The Heat

“The thing is…I’m not really sure what to say.” None of the words in his head felt like they’d be enough to make her understand.

“I’ve found tellin’ the truth to be the best way to make amends. But do it quick, you hear? You don’t want a girl like that to get away.”

Shane swallowed hard and nodded. Letting her get away was the last thing Shane wanted.

* * *

Bellamy jammedthe last of her clothes into the tiny washing machine in her condo and closed the lid, filling the dispenser with as much detergent as it would allow before starting the wash cycle.

“Damn, girl. You must want those clothes uber-clean,” Jenna said, arching an eyebrow over the lid of her Starbucks cup from the end of the hall.

Bellamy closed the laundry closet door, making her way toward Jenna and the kitchen with the hem of her pajamas swishing around her ankles. “Yup.”

Take that, super-Shane-smell.If only a healthy dose of laundry detergent would erase the rest of him, too.

“If you’re looking for cream cheese, there’s some on the top shelf,” Bellamy offered as she walked into the kitchen, gesturing to the stainless steel fridge with a lift of her chin.

Holly snorted and reached into one of the distressed pine cabinets for a plate before unloading the contents of the brown paper bakery bag across the counter.

“Are you kidding? A crisis like this overrides bagels in a heartbeat. We’re in full-on pastry territory.” Holly pulled two cranberry streusel muffins roughly the size of softballs out of the bag, following them with a couple of pumpkin scones and a chocolate éclair. “Breakfast is served,” she chimed, passing Bellamy the éclair.

“There’s no crisis. I don’t need an éclair for breakfast.” Bellamy frowned, picking at the satiny exterior. How pathetic could she get? And oh, my God, that ganache wasbeautiful.

“Ooooh, goody. Pass it this way then,” Jenna said with an expectant wave as she plopped herself down at the farmhouse table in the middle of the dining area.

Bellamy clutched the gooey chocolate shell hard enough to leave fingerprints behind. “I didn’t say I didn’t want it. I said I didn’tneedit,” she clarified, breaking off a piece for Jenna and passing it over before taking a bite. “I’m honestly fine.”

Holly pursed her lips, a network of worried creases outlining her forehead. She plunked the plate of muffins down on the table, sliding into a chair with her latte.

“Sweetie, denial like this isn’t healthy.” She held up her hand to halt Bellamy’s protest. “And I’m not just saying that so you’ll spill. I’m saying it as your friend. You called Jenna at two o’clock in the morning to come get you. Middle of the night stuff like that is nevernota big deal.”

Well, crap. There was that.

Holly continued. “If you really don’t want to talk about it, then we’ll just have breakfast. But really? You might feel better if you got it off your chest.”

Bellamy sighed, her eyes starting to sting despite her pride screaming like a banshee for them to knock it off. “Shane lied to me,” she finally managed to get out.

Holly’s eyes widened. “After Derek? No wonder you’re upset. Also, what a jackass.”

“Believe me. What Derek did isnothingcompared to this,” Bellamy whispered.

“God, B.” Jenna lowered her half of the éclair, uneaten, to grab Bellamy’s hand. “What did Shane lie to you about?”

Bellamy’s voice wavered despite her very best efforts to kick it in the ass.

“Everything.”

* * *

Shane pulledup to the cabin, watching the mid-morning sunlight stream around the trees as he pondered his words for the billionth time in the last twelve hours. He palmed his keys and made his way to the front door, pulse pounding with every step he took toward the tiny porch. Bellamy was just beyond the scuffed wooden threshold, probably waiting to give him the cold shoulder. Not that he didn’t deserve it. Still, Shane was long overdue to tell her the truth.

He just hoped she’d listen.

“Bellamy?” Shane squinted into the cabin, eyes adjusting too slowly to the dark interior. The quiet that Shane normally craved pinged off the amber log walls, making the hairs on the back of his neck stand at attention. “Bellamy?” he tried again, and the silence grew more eerie and twice as loud. Shane bolted through the empty the main room, past the wide-open bathroom door and into the bedroom. His bed was made, his cabin utterly still, and any sign that Bellamy had ever been there had vanished into thin air.

Shane’s brain railed in a silent yell. Maybe she’d tried the trails behind the cabin to try to chill out. But then, where was her stuff? The suitcase that had taken over what little room existed next to Shane’s dresser just last night was now gone, and the empty space where her things had been only hours before wrenched a hole in his chest.

In a daze, Shane stumbled back into the main room. The sink sat, empty and clean, just like the rest of his small kitchen. Hadn’t there been dishes? The memory of Bellamy, so sultry and unassumingly beautiful as she’d stood in front of the sink full of bubbles catapulted into his mind, and he sank into the recliner from weak knees.

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