Warnings and Wildfires

As we cool off together, he strokes his hand through my hair. “You want to grab some stuff and come stay at my place tonight?” he asks.

“I can’t…” I hesitate, unsure of how to explain my morning plans. “I promised to help Celia with something and I have to go into school and work on an assignment after.”

A low growl of disappointment eases out of him.

I reach up and trace my fingers over his cheek. “I’ll see you at the gym in the afternoon.”

“I don’t know if I can go that long.” He’s teasing, but there’s a sweet catch in his voice—like maybe he really means it. “How were things with my mom after I took off?”

“We left right after you. She sent us home with leftovers and made us promise to return.”

He chuckles. “Sounds about right.”

It’s sappy, but I’m not ready for this moment with Aubrey to end. Since I can’t talk her into coming home with me, I’m content cuddling in the car with her instead.

“Madison wasn’t upset we came over for dinner, was she?” Aubrey asks after a few minutes.

“Not at all.” I kiss the top of her head again. “What made you ask that?”

“It was her last night here, I didn’t want to intrude.”

“My mother’s pretty persuasive when she wants to be.”

Her small body shakes against me. “I noticed. She sure keeps Jake in line too.”

Now I’m laughing. “Yeah, but he’ll do anything for her.”

“I have the feeling both of you will.”

I sigh, considering sharing some of my past with Aubrey. Something I don’t do with anyone, well, ever. “I don’t know if you noticed or not, but she’s blind in one eye. Happened when Jake and I were kids…”

And it’s my fault.

“…I worry about her,” I finally finish.

Aubrey’s confusion is clear from her cute wrinkled-nose face. My explanation made no sense.

“Ah, here I thought you just lived next door so she could help you with Madison.”

The comment doesn’t surprise me. It’s not far from the truth, either. “That’s part of it. It’s an odd story, actually. We moved there when I was thirteen and Jake was twelve. After a bad…well, some stuff happened.” I quicken my words, not wanting to share those painful details yet.

“The woman next door was a widow with no family, so my mother sent us over to help her out and stuff. They got to be good friends. When she passed away, she left the house to my mother.”

“Wow, that was nice.”

“A huge surprise too. By then I was fighting for visitation with Madison and I was having trouble showing the court I had a stable environment. I was living in the back of the gym because I’d sunk all the money I had into it.”

“Not a suitable place for your daughter.”

“Right. So Mom sold me the house for a dollar. She went down to Florida a bunch of times with me to hearings. I was only twenty-one, so it was a fine line between arguing that I had a support system in place to help me with Madison, but she wouldn’t be coming up here just to be dumped off at my mother’s.” I run my hand through my hair, just thinking about that time in my life still pisses me off. “The judge didn’t care for me too much.”

As if she can sense my irritation, Aubrey rubs her hand over my chest. Her soft touch actually soothes away the unpleasant memories.

“Your mom obviously loves Madison a lot.”

My lips quirk into a smile. “Yeah, she finally has the girl she always wanted. Jake and I didn’t look as good in frilly pink.”

She laughs and cups my cheek, rubbing her thumb over my bottom lip. “I bet you could pull it off.”

I hate that we’re always talking about me when there’s still so much I want to know about her. “So now that you’ve met everyone important to me, what about your family?”

She shifts away from me. “You’ve met Celia.”

“What about your parents?”

“They’re not dead or anything. We’re just not…close.” There’s sadness twisted up in her words and I squeeze her a little tighter. “I was a…difficult teenager and they’re not really the forgiving type.”

I can’t imagine what she would do that would be so unforgivable.

No matter how much I wanted to keep my distance from Aubrey in the beginning, I can’t help wanting to protect her, love her, and murder anyone who makes her unhappy.

Love.

Well, shit.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

“I don’t think I can do this,” I say to Celia the next morning.

“Yes, you can.”

I’m not testifying. I can’t. But since I received the notice so late, I’m afraid my letter won’t arrive in time. Celia agreed to drive me to the parole hearing this morning and help me hand-deliver it.

“Got everything?” she asks.

She has to drop me off at school right after so she can get to work on time.

“Yup. All set.”

The time I spent with Sully last night pushes me through all my anxiety. That part of my life needs to be over and it’s time I stand up for myself.

Testify on his behalf. What a joke.

“You want to stop by and visit Mom, on the way back?” she asks as we pass the Thruway exit leading to the town we grew up in.

“That’s a great big nope.” I flip my middle finger in the direction of our childhood home and she laughs.

“I’m proud of you,” she says a little later.

“Why? I’m being a total coward.” I flap the letter I’m holding in the air a few times. “A fucking letter. Seriously?”

“They gave it as an option, Aubrey,” she says with exaggerated patience. “Obviously, it’s common.”

She glances over. “You tell Sully where you were going this morning? Does he even know?”

“Hell fucking no. Are you kidding?”

“Aubrey,” she sighs.

“Not yet.” I can’t bear to reveal my shameful past to him. For just a little longer I want to live in the happy space we’ve created.

“He sort of screams wholesome, doesn’t he?” She wrinkles her nose. “Makes you wonder what happened to Jake.”

“He’s not that wholesome,” I mutter.

She gives me a sly smile. “You did return to the apartment looking rather disheveled last night.”

Heat tickles my cheeks. “We got caught in the rain.”

“How romantic,” she sighs.

“Stop making fun of me.”

“Oh, I’m not. I’m jealous.” She presses her hand against her chest. “The way he can’t take his eyes off you, I imagine he’s very attentive in the bedroom.”

“Stop imagining my boyfriend in the bedroom at all,” I grumble.

“You know what I mean.”

“Yes. He’s…talented at all the things.”

“So he knows where everything is?” She snickers at her little joke.

I actually shiver thinking about last night. “Oh, yes. He knows where everything is and what to do when he gets there.”

“God, I hate you right now.”

When we arrive at the hearing, I lose my nerve. Celia ends up going inside to deliver the letter for me. I feel like a coward, so I use the time to check up on Strike Back’s Instagram account. I answer a few comments and check to make sure Monday’s post will go live as scheduled.

I pull out my notebook and jot down a few ideas that come to me while I’m scrolling through other similar accounts. I’d like to set up some sort of live chat, but I think Jake will be more agreeable to that than Sully will.

I’ve walked a fine line with the tone of the posts. Clearly, I want to showcase the guys’ abilities and keep things fitness-oriented. But let’s be honest, I’m also using them as man-bait to attract an audience. Part of why I was so hesitant to talk about it with Madison and Sully’s mom last night. I’d probably traumatize poor Maddy if she knew my plan involves turning her dad and uncle into Inte

rnet sex symbols for profit.

Jake’s friends, Griff and Remy, are supposed to start training at Strike Back. Would it be weird if I tried to talk them into contributing a video? I tap my pen against my notebook. What’s a non-sleazy way to approach someone and ask to take some video of them while they work out? Oh, and if you can please do it shirtless, that would be great, thanks.

Maybe I should start by asking Jake and Remy to spar in front of the camera. It would definitely appeal to their vanity.

Celia’s door opening startles me out of my planning session and I flip my notebook closed.

“I’m glad you didn’t go in.” She starts the car and backs out of our spot.

“Why? Did you see him?”

“Not really.”

I don’t ask for more details, because I honestly don’t care. Is it too much to ask that I be allowed to move on and forget that embarrassingly stupid time in my life?

“But they took my letter?”

“Yes.”