Burn Read Online Free Page B

gust of chilly air and hugged her arms closer
around her waist. Could she do this, let him back in? Did she want to risk it
after how badly it had devastated her before when it all ended so abruptly? Was
she being too hard on him and herself? After all, it could be great again,
amazing even. But trust was a hard thing to rebuild once it had been shattered
like a house of glass.
    When Tate
reached the sliding doors to reenter the hospital, she realized she’d made
another mistake where Ryan and her resistance were concerned—he now had her
phone number.
    ****
    Ryan had Wednesdays
off. It had been two days since Tate had called, and he was growing antsy. The
more time he let pass between contact , the more
momentum he lost in his fight to get her back.
    He’d held off on
sending her anything last night because he didn’t want to press his luck too
much. And besides that, he’d heard something in her voice on the phone that had
sounded an awful lot like sadness near the end of their conversation. The last
thing he ever wanted to do was hurt her more.
    So he’d
formulated a plan, a last ditch effort to try to see her face to face. He had a
hunch he wanted to explore. Tate might put up a solid self-protective front,
even more so when there was distance between them, but she was still attracted
to him physically. The kiss they’d shared in the parking garage had proven they
still had that connection, and he wasn’t above exploiting it.
    His idea was sneaky
and could backfire, or it could be the catalyst to a resolution between them. If
she still resisted, he would back off. Not give up, but give her the space and
time to decide what she wanted. It would kill him, now that he’d seen her,
touched her, tasted her again, but he would. And if she decided she didn’t want
him back in her life, he’d have to live with that, too.
    Grabbing his
phone before he could change his mind, he typed out a text.
    “ You working today?”
    It felt like an
hour before his phone beeped with her response. “No. Doing laundry. Why?”
    “I
think my arm might be getting infected.”
    “Describe
it.”
    “Red.
Hot. Swollen.” Thank you, WebMD. “Should I go back to the ER and have it
checked out?”
    Another full
minute before she responded. And he realized too late she could say all sorts
of things. Things like “take a picture of it and send it to me”, or “yes, go to
the emergency room now!” or “I hope your arm rots off for what you did to me,
you asshole”.
    But she didn’t.
    “Give
me your address.”
    Either she’d
seen through his ruse and was coming over to give him what for in person, or
she was genuinely concerned and willing to make a house call. Whatever it was,
he had his opportunity so he typed out his address and hit Send.
    “Be
there in 20.”
    Ryan raced
around the apartment, cleaning, hiding dirty clothes in his closet, and
pretentiously sticking a nice bottle of wine in the fridge to chill before
taking a quick shower. He had just finished redressing the burn on his arm and
pulling on a pair of clean jeans when his doorbell rang.
    Sending up a
quick prayer, he opened the door.
    Tate’s mouth
dropped open before she snapped it shut. “Do you always answer the door without
a shirt on?”
    “I had just stepped
out of the shower when the doorbell rang.” He reached out and gently grasped
her wrist, urging her inside. He shut the door behind her then leaned his back
against it, blocking her from making a hasty exit. His conscience quickly got
the better of him. “I lied to you about my arm.”
    Her green eyes narrowed
suspiciously. “How so?”
    “It’s fine. In
fact, it looks great. Hardly even hurts anymore. I wanted an excuse to see you
again.”
    And see her he
did—the gorgeous face that haunted his dreams and those ruby lips that tasted
better than the most decadent dessert he’d ever sampled. Her fiery hair tumbled
down around her shoulders in soft, thick waves. She’d always cursed