Spitfire in Love (Chasing Red 3)

“Yes?”

I waited for him to say something, but he didn’t. And I realized he wasn’t going to. He pressed against me instead, his arms pulling me closer as if I wasn’t already close enough.

“I wish I had better words for you so you can understand how it’s not your fault,” I said. “But I want you to know that I’m here. I’m right here, Cam. And I’m not going anywhere.”

I let my body rest against him, listening to him breathing. We stayed like that for a while. A sense of calmness and comfort came over me.

“It’s enough,” he said after a moment, his voice thick with emotion. “More than enough.”

“You still blame yourself, don’t you?” I asked.

He didn’t answer.

I sighed. “I really hope you don’t blame yourself because you asked Pete to stay.”

When he was telling me his story, he had repeated that he had asked Pete to stay several times. I knew there was a reason for it, that he blamed himself for it.

I pulled away from him so I could look at his face, and this time he let me. His lion eyes looked so dark, so intense when he let me see his emotions. I cradled his jaw in my palms.

“Cam, why wouldn’t you ask him to stay? And why wouldn’t he stay? You were kids. Kids play all the damn time. They break rules and stay up late. They don’t go home when it’s time to go home, and they play outside as long as they can. They break curfew. You know how many times I did that? Don’t you dare blame yourself. Those five kids who beat you up, who bullied Pete, think of their role. I hope to God they’re sorry for what happened. But never, ever blame yourself. Think about it, goddammit.”

“Do you think I haven’t thought about all those things? I have, Kara. Many times. More than you could count.” His eyes shifted back to the spot where it happened. “Why—” His voice broke. “Why do you think he did it?”

“Did what?”

“Why didn’t he get the fuck out of the car? It was as though he just gave up. What if…”

I felt sick. He was right. I didn’t think that there could be another reason why Pete stayed in the car. I thought he was paralyzed with fear, but then…

“What if he intentionally stayed in the car?” His eyes filled with horror. “I should have known. I…I should’ve recognized the signs if he…if he wanted to…”

Escape everything by choosing to stay in the burning car.

“You were just a kid,” I whispered, my heart breaking for him. And for Pete. “Answer this for me, how would an eight-year-old kid be so aware of death, let alone recognize the signs that his friend wanted to commit suicide? If that was really his intention. And, Cam, would you blame an eight-year-old kid for not being able to pry open a car that’s made of steel and glass and on fire? That kid did everything he could to save his friend. His hands were bleeding and burned, but he kept trying until he was so exhausted he passed out. Would you blame him?”

I didn’t expect him to answer, and he didn’t.

“I didn’t know Pete, but whatever his reason was, I don’t think he would want you to blame yourself for this. Not when he knew you didn’t leave him there. You stayed and fought for him. He knew his friend stayed and fought for him because he mattered to you.”

His fingers closed around my wrists, and I thought he would reject my touch again, bring them down to my sides. But he surprised me. With his eyes staring at me, he brought them to his mouth, kissed the inside of my wrists.

“I have no idea why you’re suddenly in my life,” he said, his voice gruff. “But I don’t fucking care anymore. I’m done fighting it. I want you to be with me. With me, Kara.”

This man. I closed my eyes and rubbed my cheek against his shoulder.

“Good,” I said, smiling. “I want you to be with me too.”

He stroked my hair, his hand sliding down to my neck, massaging it with his long fingers. I sighed in contentment.

“It’s getting cold.” I couldn’t have been warmer with his body heat and embrace shielding me from the cold, but what about him? He had given me his jacket and he was only wearing a shirt. “Why don’t you show me your cabin?”

He nodded but stayed where he was for a few moments before he decided to get up. He didn’t want to let go of me yet.

“All right,” he said. “Let’s go.”

But I didn’t let go of him. I held on.

“I want to be your monkey,” I murmured into his neck.