Page 82 of Turn Up The Heat

Shane rubbed his palm over the ache in his chest, flattening it for just a second to hold the thought of Bellamy there, close to him. She’d been right about his keeping the truth from her, but goddamn it, it wasn’t like he’d been able to just come out with all of it in casual conversation.Yeah, by the way, I’m the son of one of Philadelphia’s most powerful men, but we’re not speaking because I decided to give up a prestigious career for a simple life in the middle of nowhere.She’d probably have thought he was insane.

Christ, she probably hated him right now.

And she wasn’t the only one, he thought, rolling up his sleeves to finish what he’d started.

27

“Sorry for calling you in the middle of the night.” Bellamy stared out the window of Jenna’s BMW, taking in the purplish light of pre-dawn without really seeing anything.

Jenna shrugged, her haphazard ponytail brushing her shoulders. “What’re friends for?” She paused for a minute. “Speaking of which, do you want to talk about whatever it is that made you call me in the middle of the night to come get you?”

“Not really.”

Saying out loud that she’d fallen in love with Shane, only to have him play her for the world’s biggest fool sure wasn’t going to make the truth sting any less. Hadn’t her past taught her pride it was a bad idea to lie down on the job?

It was better to just forget the whole thing and move on. God, she needed to put her stupid, trusting heart on lockdown. Look at what an idiot following the damned thing had made her.

“You’re pretty upset,” Jenna ventured again, gently pressing.

Words percolated up from Bellamy’s chest, followed by an ache and what was sure to be an avalanche of tears. How could she say any of this without it knocking her down even further? What her ex, Derek, had done paled in comparison to this, and admitting that she’d been played for a fool and then asuper-fool by a guy she’d really trusted might just be enough to send her over the edge.

“I’ll get over it. I just want to go back to the city. I want to go home.”

Bellamy stuffed down the urge to talk about Shane—to even think about his dark, brooding eyes or the oh-so-good fresh cedar smell of him—with all her exhausted might.

She wasn’t letting him get the best of her ever again.

* * *

“It’s complicated…complicated…it’snot you…”

Bellamy covered her ears to force the words away, but they echoed in her head. The smell of cedar and pine surrounded her, invading her senses, making her heart ache.

“Shane,” she murmured, reaching out.

But he wasn’t there.

Bellamy’s head popped off the cool glass, jarring her awake with a gasp.

“What the hell?” She squinted against the sunlight filtering into the car.

“Effing potholes. Sorry,” Jenna said, making a face. “And it’s rush hour, so you know. We’re going to eat the bumper of this moron’s Corolla for a while. No-driving bonehead,” she muttered. “Anyway, it’s good that you got some sleep.”

Bellamy blinked, her brain railing against the command to catch up. “Oh, right.” Had she honestly been dreaming about the way Shane smelled? She tucked her chin to her chest, surprised to feel the brush of flannel on her face. Damn it. She’d never taken off Shane’s shirt, the one she’d snatched up off the floor on her way to the garage. Bellamy considered taking it off, right there in Jenna’s car, but she was only wearing a thin tank top underneath it. Probably better not to flash morning traffic on 295 just to spite her ex…whatever Shane was. Boyfriend? Lover? Guy who’d stomped on her ridiculously trusting heart?

It was going to take forever to forget him.

“I should probably give you a heads up. I texted Holly.” Jenna hissed a curse at the box truck in front of them and swerved to avoid another pothole. “She’s worried about you.”

Bellamy felt what little energy she had seep out of her. The last thing she wanted was to re-hash what had happened. “There’s nothing to worry about. I’m fine.”

“Please. You know neither one of us is buying that, right? Anyway, she just wants to be a good friend. She’s making you breakfast.”

Bellamy groaned. “You let her into your kitchen?”

A wicked smile crossed Jenna’s face. “Nope. I let her into yours.” She took a quick exit and headed toward Bellamy’s condo. “But don’t worry. Her breakfast-making skills are totally limited to ordering Starbucks and buying emotional support muffins from that bakery on Windsor Street.”

“That’s true.” Bellamy said. At least her kitchen was probably safe. Her cereal, not so much. “But, really. There’s nothing to worry about.”

---