Ember In The Heart

“You’re right.”

“Ember!”

I flinched at his voice.

“Ember,” he sounded out of breath and I turned as Foster slowed from a run into a stop before us on the sidewalk. “Look, this isn’t—”

“Have you been fucking her while you were fucking me?” I cut him off, my voice harsh.

Foster flinched back. “Of course not.”

“Then that’s all I need to know.” I turned to leave and he grabbed my arm. I shook him off. “Don’t touch me.”

His expression darkened with frustration as he ran his hands through his hair. “Look, you and I … we … and Heather is the daughter of a family friend… and …”

“And we were just screwing around,” I whispered, hating him because I hadn’t imagined his possessiveness or the way he acted like he wanted more than just sex.

He’d made me start to hope.

The cruelty of it was overwhelming.

“No.” He tried to reach for me again but I retreated. Anguish blazed in his eyes. “I care about you. I do. I just…”

“You don’t have to say it.” Disgusted with him, I dragged my gaze down his body and back up again. “Your family’s good opinion means too much to you, which means that you think I’m not good enough—”

“No—”

“I know who I am. I know my worth. And I deserve better than you, better than someone who would try to make me feel horrible about myself because he can’t stand up to his family. My mistake for getting involved with a boy.”

He gaped at me, shocked, hurt, angry.

And it satisfied that spiteful part of me that wanted him to hurt as much as he’d hurt me.

I whirled around and stalked down the street, Jade’s footsteps falling into sync with mine. By the time we’d reached the train station, we were both sweaty and out of breath.

Plus, I felt beyond nauseated. Every part of me ached.

“You were wonderful.” Jade wrapped an arm around my shoulder as we waited on our train. “And you were right. He’s just a boy who doesn’t deserve you.”

“What about G?” my lips trembled as tears stung my eyes. “I don’t want to hurt her.”

Jade rested her head against mine. “It’s terrible and sad … but a clean break for the two of you will be best.”

“We live next door to each other.”

My sister sighed. “I know you might not want to hear this … but with me leaving … perhaps it’s time to sell the house.”

Aghast, I pulled away from her. “What do you mean?”

“It’s prime real estate. Even split five ways, your portion of the sale would buy you and Celeste a smaller place, maybe even somewhere closer to the beach.”

“But … it’s been in the family for three generations.”

“It’s just a house. And maybe it’s time to move on. Do you really want to watch Foster and Heather, or whoever he ends up with, start a new life with Georgie next door?”

8

Foster

Nothing felt right. He couldn’t settle. He couldn’t sleep. There was this anxious feeling in his gut all the time. Guilt rode him hard. And dread. He didn’t even want to analyze the dread.

Georgie missed Ember.

They hadn’t seen her in two weeks.

She wasn’t answering his calls, his texts.

She didn’t swim at night anymore.

The few times he’d knocked on the door, Celeste answered, less than friendly, and told him Ember wasn’t home.

Foster couldn’t blame her. No, he hadn’t slept with Heather. He hadn’t even kissed Heather. But the strange double date with his parents was technically their second date because they’d had lunch alone in the city the week before. Something he hadn’t told Ember.

The whole time he’d tried to shake off his guilt, telling himself he wasn’t doing anything wrong. The same at lunch with his parents.

And then Ember had walked into the restaurant.

The look in her eyes.

The betrayal.

Fuck.

He sucked in a deep breath and exhaled, the sound shaky to even his ears.

He missed her.

The sound of her laughter, the way her dark eyes danced with it. Her easy affection with G, like the two of them had been together their whole lives. The way G lit up for Ember in a way she used to only for him.

The way he lit up for Ember.

Her soft, breathy moans in his ears. Her hands caressing his back, gripping his ass. The dramatic slope of narrow waist into her curvy hips. Gazing into her eyes and feeling so fucking at peace, like he’d finally found something he’d been missing his whole life.

“If I have to hear you sigh like that one more time, I’m going to punch you.”

Foster started, swinging his office chair around from the window to find Colt braced against the doorway.

His friend closed the door behind him and walked into the room. “It’s like working with a zombie these days. You barely said two words to Jack Hunter in the meeting this morning.”