Page 40 of Feverburn

He wrapped his arms around me without pretense. A rush of comfort flooded my body, causing my eyes to flutter close. A deep breath filled my lungs, his woodsyscent passing my nose and overpowering the latte funk that clung to my shirt. Looking up at him, I didn’t know if I wanted to cry orkisshim. Unable to decide, I tucked myself into him again. His arms clutched me closer, his warmth blissfully seeping into me while his steady heartbeat thrummed.

I pulled away, coming to my senses as I wiped at the tears. I was supposed to be mad. Carson stepped back and flicked on the lights in his office, so a golden ray lit the hallway. He fetched a small tube of cream and gently slathered it on my arms without asking.“Can we please talk?”His brow creased withworryas his eyes scanned my decolletage. It wasannoyingseeing him worried about me. I was a blubbering mess.

I sniffled. “We…we don’t have to do this.”

“Do what?”

“You don’t have to pretend you’re concerned that a bitch hurt my feelings and took out her frustration on me. I’m a grown-ass adult.”I shuddered with a sob.“Kaylee and I knew retaliation was a risk when opening our shop.”

“You’re also human. And I wouldn’t be pretending. I am concerned about you.”

His earnest tone pulled at me, but I battled it. “You don’t have to be.”

“You’re only saying that because you’re not used to people looking out for you.”

I scoffed, pulling my arms away from him,“Do you realize how condescending that is?”

“Do you realize how defensive you are?”

Unfazed yet determined, he stepped closer, walking us to the wall. I stared up at him in stunned silence as his legs framed mine, his groin pressed against my waist. His fingers traveled to pick up a curl resting on my collarbone, making mesuckin air through my nose as he grazed my neck. Slowly, he slathered the cream over the burns on my chest. I didn’t know what felt better, his touch or the soothing balm.

His eyes flashed up from my neck to meet mine, piercing through his lashes as apaleglimmer, even in the dim light. I grabbed the back of his head and brought him to me for akiss. His lips silenced my dread, helping me forget my awful situation. We stayed there kissing until both of us were out of breath.

He broke thekiss, whispering,“I don’t like how stressed you always look or that you got burned. I don’t like the idea of anyone being mean to you.”

His eyes were soulful with a hint of concern. I couldn’t help butlickmy lips, staring at them.“How could you possibly help me with stress?”

A smirk crossed his face before he said,“Oh, I think you already know what stress relief I could provide you, sweetheart.”

I rolled my eyes with a snort, pushing him away once more.“Of course, typical guy! Like you’re agiftto humanity or something. Like I don’t have something battery operated that can do what you only wish—”

A switch flipped in him as he stared down at me.“It would be in yourbestinterest not to make assumptions. If it were up to me, I’d have you writhing in my bed, all flushed and fucked so well you couldn’t stand.”He shook his head, stepping back to plunk the bottle of cream on his desk before yanking a leash off the hook.“You know what, never mind. I’m cursed, and you’re not ready for anything beyond your self-imposed martyr shit.”

Kiszka now stood between us, his whines getting louder.

“Martyr shit? That’srichfrom a guy who stays in Pine Bluff as a miserable, grumpy ass, and for what? To run a store your grandpa opened 70 years ago?”

He turned around,“Yeah, it’s called thinking about what would make othershappy, selflessness, consideration. Maybe fucking try it sometime.”He said something in Greek, prompting Kiszka to follow him out the back door.

I ran upstairs and shrieked, kicking off my shoes, then hurried over to the bathtub, discreetly looking out the window to see his headlights still in the parking lot. I wished he would come back, but he pulled away seconds later.

And for the second time since moving here, I slumped in my bathtubwith the hollow ache of loneliness.

Chapter Eighteen

My rage was replaced by heartache in the wake of the loft fire. I thought maybe, just maybe, the loft fire was mycurse, and she had dodged it. And perhaps I could try to be with her again.

I visited her at Silver Springs to apologize for what I said, hoping we could be civil since it was a public place. But my plan didn’t work because she was too busy dodging a latte chucked at her by Tyler’s new chick the second I arrived.

Seeing Rosie’spaleskin angry, pink, and blotchy with the burns was distressing. Luckily, they weren’t too bad, but I wanted tokissher all over and hold her. Before I could, she wigged out, reminding me why I couldn’t find peace with her around. It catapulted me back into my rage, angry at myself that I couldn’twineither way.

I knew, on some level, I would never be thatlucky.

I decided to fuck with her business as she did mine. She was determined to drive me mad, and I would ensure she was right there with me. To fight loving her, I had to loathe her. Following an idea, I texted Bear, hoping he was up for plotting.

On the day of myattack, around noon, the back door of the hardware store clicked like someone was pushing on the handle. I smiled, booking it to the front of the store in time to see her entering with a frown.“Why is the back door blocked?” she asked through gritted teeth.

“Oh, damn, sorry, I forgot to move some boxes. We’ve had so much going on after someone tried to burn my store down.”

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