Aflame (Fall Away #4)

I whispered, holding the book close to me. “I exist as I am, that is enough.”

There were many lines underlined and many poems dog-eared in this old paperback, but I always came back to the ones my mother did herself. Maybe she marked them for herself, or maybe she knew I would need them, but they were always right there being the voice for me she couldn’t be anymore. Even though she died of cancer more than ten years ago, I never stopped needing her. So I carried the book everywhere.

Leaning in, I pressed my nose into the crease and inhaled the scent of old paper as my eyes fell closed.

“Dude,” I heard Madoc’s voice. “Kinky.”

I opened my eyes, letting out an aggravated sigh at his big head sticking through my driver’s side window.

You would think Madoc was my boyfriend, as much as he hovered, but it was useless to try to get away from it. He’d texted three times to make sure I was showing up tonight. I’d never missed a race, but I knew exactly why he thought I might duck out. The moron thought I had no self-respect.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” I warned, tossing the book into the glove compartment—which I always did for good luck—and then climbing out of the car.

“Okay.” He nodded, stuffing his hands into his gray cargo shorts. “But if I see you sleeping with your books, I’m staging an intervention.” He jerked his chin to the backseat, littered with all of my texts for school.

I shot him a look and walked around the back of my car to attach the GoPro Jax had given me. “I got behind on my summer reading because of my shifts at the hospital,” I explained, bending down to affix the camera, “and I want to get through these footnotes by the time school starts.”

“You’re reading the books in the footnotes?” He looked at me like I was wearing head-to-toe orange.

I stood up, placing my hands on my hips. “Considering you’re studying to be a lawyer, it might be a good idea for you to dive deeper into your reading lists as well.”

He went wide-eyed. “We have reading lists?”

My eyes rounded, but then he laughed, clearly joking. At least I hoped he was joking. “Well, you’re not going into surgery tomorrow,” he argued. “So take a breath already.”

“I can’t.” I brushed him off, walking back to my door. “I’m just—”

“Worried you’ll start thinking about him?” he finished, and I halted.

I let out a sigh, gritting my teeth. “Not now, okay? Don’t you have better things to do? Like your mission to start a soccer team in the Caruthers household as soon as college ended?”

But he ignored me. Before I knew what was happening, Madoc darted into my backseat and started gathering my books and backpack.

“Madoc,” I scolded, trying to grab my shit. “Give me my books.”

He jerked away from me. “I’ve got them.”

“Now!” I whisper-yelled.

“Not tonight.” He smiled, shaking his head.

“Why not tonight?” I inquired as if I didn’t know where this was going.

But then a husky voice roared over the loudspeaker, and Madoc and I looked up.

“Tate!” My name echoed across the track. “Are you here?”

I grinned and cocked a mischievous eyebrow at Madoc. “Excuse me for a moment,” I said sweetly.

“Oh, of course,” he cooed, bowing his head in reverence with laughter in his eyes.

I rounded the front of my car, hopped on the hood, and stood tall. “Here!” I shouted, feeling the weight of a hundred pairs of eyes fall on me from the surrounding crowds.

Cheers rang out in the night air as people—men and women—howled and clapped, whistled and chanted my name, and I caught sight of Fallon and Juliet over by the bleachers holding up their drinks and screaming their support.

Zack Hager, the announcer, stood up in the viewing stand with Jax, clearly figuring out the evening’s schedule. They only took attendance when someone had canceled. Seeing as how we all had set times before the day of the race, they needed to figure out who was here, so they could push up racers in the line-up.

I jumped back down and eyed Madoc, finishing our conversation. “All of you knew he was coming home and no one told me,” I pointed out. “I’m not mad, but I’m not indulging whatever scheme you’ve worked out. I’m a grownup.”

He pinched his eyebrows together and dropped my back pack. “Puh-lease,” he grumbled.

And the next thing I knew he grabbed me, hooked an arm round my neck—putting me in a headlock—and scrubbed my scalp hard with his knuckles.

“Madoc!” I screamed, planting one hand against his back and one against his bicep as I tried to pull my head out of his hold. “You are not giving me a noogie!”

“Noogie?” he argued. “No, grownups don’t give noogies. And we’re grownups, right?” He carried on, his assault burning my scalp.

“Madoc!” I growled, my voice deep and labored with the short breaths. “Let me go!” I stomped my foot, finally twisting out of his hold.

He backed off, and I straightened, trying to catch my breath as he laughed.

“You’re a jerk!” I pushed hair out of my face that had been tugged free of my ponytail.

“Yes.” Fallon joined in, walking up with Juliet. “You’re just now learning that?” she teased, winking at her husband.

I huffed, yanking my rubber band out of my hair, because it was a lost cause now.