Wild Flame (The Wild: A Rock Star Romance Book 2)

by Micalea Smeltzer

  He moves my hand to his mouth, placing a kiss on my palm before curling our fingers together and holding our joined hands close to his chest.

  “I’m so confused, Kira.” The confession scratches at his throat, his voice raw and desperate. “I can’t make sense of anything anymore.”

  I swallow thickly, the sound of it audible in the space between us. “Does it have to make sense?”

  “Yes,” he whispers. “I want it to at least. I’m tired of this purgatory. Of being afraid of my own feelings.”

  “Why are you afraid?”

  “Because,” he swallows, and I swear his eyes begin to fill with tears. “Because I think I love you. No,” he closes his eyes, “I know I love you, Kira. I swore I would never fall in love, have a family, but I never could’ve predicted you.”

  “You … you love me? But why?” Panic threatens to choke me and I try to pull my hand from his but he won’t let go.

  “Because I do,” he sighs, the sound weighted and heavy in the room. “It’s … I’ve been struggling to accept it, but I do. I love you.”

  He stares at me, waiting for a response, I’m sure hoping for a declaration of love to come from my lips for him.

  But I have nothing.

  “You can’t love me,” I tell him, fighting tears.

  “Why?” He sits up in the bed, looking down at me. Anger and hurt cloud his handsome features.

  “Because I can never love you.”

  28

  Rush

  Because I can never love you.

  Her words are an endless echo inside my skull. They rattle around like the little silver ball inside a pinball machine.

  Because.

  Ping!

  I.

  Ping!

  Can.

  Ping!

  Never.

  Ping!

  Love.

  Ping!

  You.

  Not that she could never love anyone, but that she couldn’t love me. Am I that horrible of a person?

  After her admission last night, I packed up my shit, beat down the door to Cannon and Fox’s room, and crashed on their floor.

  Now, on the train ride home I made Fox switch seats with me so I didn’t have to be beside her.

  I never wanted to fall in love, to have a family I could lose like I did my parents, but my mind couldn’t control my heart, and now I’ve fallen in love with the one person who can’t, or won’t love me back. Doesn’t love me back.

  She feels nothing for me, which is a sad fact I have to keep reminding myself.

  She does feel something for you, my treacherous mind whispers to me.

  I can’t believe it, though. Hope will only cause me more pain in the future, and I’m going to do everything I can to avoid it.

  I’ll numb myself from it.

  I’m done with her, I have to be for my own sanity. I don’t know what that means for our kid, I still want to be involved, but I can’t fucking deal with her. If that means I’ll have to take her to court for rights to my child, I will. I don’t want to fight her, but if it comes to it I will. She won’t walk all over me anymore.

  When the train finally rolls into our stop, I grab my shit, and haul ass off of it.

  “Rush!” Kira calls after me, her feet pounding against the concrete behind me. “Slow down!”

  “No!” I yell back.

  Done with her shit. So done.

  Her feet stop. “Are you just going to leave me here?”

  I don’t turn around. I can’t. If I do, I’ll give in, and I refuse to let her have power over me any longer.

  My heart was beginning to open up, the more time we spent together the fuller it became. Now, it’s closed off again, even more tightly sealed than the last time.

  “Get a ride with Hollis and Mia,” I tell her in a gruff tone. “You’re not my problem anymore.”

  “Rush,” she pleads brokenly.

  But I start walking again. She made her bed, now she has to deal with the consequences.

  Rage clouds my vision. I haven’t felt this angry since the day I had to lay both my parents to rest.

  With a sound that’s more animal than human I shove all the baby books off the nightstand beside my hotel bed where they go crashing to the floor.

  It’s not enough.

  I’m not sure anything will ever be enough.

  I’m sure as hell not enough for anyone.

  Grabbing the lamp off the nightstand, the cord yanks from the wall and I throw it against the opposite wall where it shatters.

  “What the fuck is going on?” Cannon roars standing in the doorway, he ducks as I throw my computer next. It hits the floor near his feet, cracking.

  “Jesus Christ,” Fox blurts, joining Cannon in watching my meltdown.

  My hands shake as my emotions threaten to overwhelm me like a massive wave crashing to shore. I have no control. I’ve become something I don’t recognize.

  I tear the covers off the bed, rolling them into a ball, which I throw too.

  The whole room already looks like a hurricane has blown through.

  I want to destroy it, to rattle it until it somehow closely resembles how I feel on the inside.

  “Rush, man, what the fuck is going on?”

  I can’t answer them. I’m beyond words. I exist entirely in another form now.

  When there’s nothing left for me to throw, I drop to my knees and I scream. It’s the painful noise of years of pent up anger leaching out of me. Everything I’ve bottled up comes roaring from the depths of my soul. I feel the veins in my neck pop out and tears leak from my eyes.

  A hand touches my shoulder and I flinch.

  Cannon moves in front of me and crouches down until we’re eye to eye. I feel Fox’s presence steady at my back.

  Cannon stares at me for a moment, waiting for my breathing to slow. His eerie light green eyes seem to anchor me somehow—to remind me I’m Rush, and I’m in Virginia, and I’m still human.

  “I’m sorry,” he says simply, and hugs me. The tight, powerful hug of one brother to another.

  Slowly, I hug him back. My tears fall and I can’t stop them. My whole face is damp with them. I haven’t broken down like this, not once, since they died.

  The rage, I let myself feel that.

  At least the anger was something familiar I knew how to channel.

  But grief? I’d never experienced it before, so I buried it deep inside myself along with the man I was before. I thought if I buried everything far down enough it could never surface. I was fucking wrong. It’s been biding its time, waiting for me to crack.

  All it took was falling in love with a girl who will never love me for it all to come crashing to the surface, ready to drown me.

  “I’m sorry,” Cannon says again. “I’m so fucking sorry, man.”

  “I told her I loved her,” I choke on the confession. “I love her, and she doesn’t love me.”

  He squeezes my shoulder and pulls back slightly in order to look at me.

  “I’m not supposed to be loved, am I?” I ask brokenly.

  Lost, I’m fucking lost.

  He shakes my shoulders slightly. “We love you, man. We’re your best fucking friends. We grew up together. We’re practically brothers. No matter what, you have the three of us.”

  “It hurts,” I tell him, touching my heart. “I feel like my heart is bleeding.”

  Cannon gets a sad look, and Fox moves in front of me too.

  “I’m so fucking angry,” I continue. “I’m angry my parents are gone when they shouldn’t be. I’m angry at Kira. I’m angry at myself. All I have is this anger left inside me. It’s all I feel right now.”

  “Don’t let it consume you,” Fox begs, looking at me sadly. “Be stronger than it.”

  I shake my head. “I’m weak. I’m a weak, pathetic excuse for a human being.”

  Slowly, I stand up, wiping my face free of emotions like cleaning a blackboard in school.

  “Don’t say that,” Ca
nnon growls, standing up too.

  With my mask firmly in place once more I say, “There was a reason I protected myself with booze, partying, and women. It was safe not having anything to care about, wasting my life away.”

  “Rush—” Cannon begins.

  “It’s time for me to realize that’s all my life is, all it can be.”

  I turn on my heel, heading out of the room and for the door.

  “Rush, stop,” Fox pleads sternly from somewhere behind me.

  “Don’t do this,” Cannon growls, his hand closing on my arm as he flips me around to face him. “Don’t throw everything away.”

  I stare back at him as I safely lock away the small bit of humanity I had slowly been gaining back these last few months.

  “It’s too late. I already have.”

  29

  Kira

  “I made the right decision,” I tell myself, lying in bed.

  It’s been a week since I’ve seen Rush.

  He hasn’t texted or called me. I haven’t reached out either.

  “It was for the best … for both of us.”

  I roll over, curling my hands under my head.

  I wish I believed my words. If I could, then maybe I wouldn’t feel sick all the time—the kind of sickness I know isn’t caused by the baby.

  Rush telling me he loves me is the scariest thing I’ve ever heard. I wasn’t prepared for it, not at all. I couldn’t lie and tell him I loved him back, I can’t go down that path with him or anyone. I learned a long time ago the only person I can rely on is myself. To hand my heart over willingly to someone is asking for them to toss it to the ground and stomp all over it.

  I endured nothing but heartache for years, never being loved by the family who should’ve loved me unconditionally—so why would I freely start down that path with someone?

  I should’ve been honest with him, opened up and explained where I was coming from, but he stormed away too quickly. I couldn’t do or say anything.

  One minute he was there admitting he loved me and then … then he was grabbing his shit and leaving.

  It’s further proof to me how people say one thing, but when the going gets tough they haul ass as far from you as they can.

  If he really loved me he couldn’t have possibly left, right? Or tried to abandon me at the train station?

  I’m pregnant with his child and he was so mad at me he was willing to leave me there.

  That’s not love.

  I roll back over onto my back, covering my face with the crook of my elbow.

  I need to go to sleep. I have class tomorrow and real responsibilities that don’t include obsessing over Rush and his stupid actions.

  Sleep, however, has become a mockery—something I can feel fluttering at the edges of my consciousness but it never fully takes control because my guilty conscience keeps it at bay.

  I hurt Rush and I feel sorry for it, I do. The last thing I wanted to do was hurt him, but I didn’t give him what he wanted and now here we are.

  Throwing the covers back I stuff my feet into a pair of fuzzy boots, yank on a sweatshirt, and head down to my car.

  A few minutes later I park outside Mia’s building.

  It’s a risk coming here, she might be going at it like rabbits with Hollis, but I need my best friend. I need a shoulder to cry on.

  It’s not late, barely after nine, so I doubt they’ve gone to bed. Otherwise I would’ve stayed home suffering alone in my misery.

  I get out of my car, closing the door behind me and I climb the three steps to her building’s door. Stepping inside I take a breath, pausing while I decide if I’m really in a good state of mind to be around people, but in the end, I realize I’ve been at home suffering in silence for too long.

  I trudge up the steps and knock on her door.

  I should’ve called or sent a text, before I showed up, but I wasn’t thinking straight. I only wanted my best friend and common sense didn’t matter.

  The door opens and Hollis stands there in a pair of low hanging pajama pants and no shirt. His brown wavy hair flops over his forehead and he grins at me.

  “Kira, to what do we owe this pleasure?”

  I roll my eyes and push past him. “I need to see my best friend.”

  He chuckles and closes the door. “I figured that much. She’s in the bath.”

  I wave a hand. “I’ve seen her naked before so I don’t give a shit. I need to talk to her.”

  His grin widens further. “You have, huh? How naked are we talking? Like completely naked? Were there pillow fights involved? Fingering? I need details.”

  I roll my eyes again and I’m surprised they don’t fall right out of my head.

  “Only when we were changing clothes. Don’t pitch a tent. Make yourself useful and go get snacks. We’re going to need white cheddar popcorn, crackers with that gross looking squirt cheese, and double dunker ice cream—two gallons to be safe.”

  “That bad?” He raises a brow in surprise.

  I sigh, biting my lip. Hollis is one of Rush’s best friends and I don’t know how much he knows or what I should reveal.

  “How’s Rush been?” I ask. It’s an answer in and of itself.

  He looks away, exhaling a heavy breath. Slowly bringing his gaze back to mine, he admits, “Not good.”

  I bite my lip, dropping my eyes to the old weathered floor. “That’s what I figured.”

  “He told you he loves you.”

  I bring my eyes back up but I don’t find any judgment or anger in his.

  “He did.”

  “Rush has been through a lot,” he explains slowly and softly. “A lot of shit he’s never dealt with. Loving you isn’t something he could plan for. It was unexpected. I think it was healing him in a lot of ways, but…”

  “But?” I prompt.

  “You rejected him.” I open my mouth to argue or explain, I don’t know, but he raises his hand to silence me. “Rush doesn’t do well with rejection, especially when it comes to things he feels passionately about. He might not know it yet, but he’s not going to truly be capable of loving you or anyone until he deals with his shit. He has to stop burying it like it doesn’t exist. Nothing we do or say does any good. He’s going to have to hit rock bottom before he decides to fix himself. I’m afraid he’s almost reached that point.” He runs his fingers through his hair and I notice the lines of worry around his eyes.

  This hasn’t been easy for me so I know it can’t be easy for the guys to watch their friend crash and burn.

  “He has things to work through,” I agree. “Now, it’s not just me I have to worry about.” I place a hand over my bump. The tiny little life growing inside me is dependent on me to keep it safe and I’ll do it, no matter the cost.

  Hollis gives a sad smile. “Don’t give up on him. Maybe you truly don’t love him, and perhaps you never will, but he is a good guy and he’ll be a great dad. He just … needs to grow up.” He shrugs as if the simple raise of his shoulders explains the situation.

  “I can’t wait forever,” I whisper.

  Hollis looks at me sadly. “I hope you don’t have to.” Hooking his thumb over his shoulder toward the bedroom he says, “You go crash Mia’s bath and I’ll run to the store and get your snacks.”

  “Thank you,” I tell him.

  “You’re welcome,” he replies with a small smile.

  “No, I mean it. Thank you. Thank you for taking care of my best friend, for loving her like she deserves, and thank you for being a good friend to Rush.”

  He nods and follows me into the room. He grabs a shirt and puts it on, grabbing a jacket and then his keys off the dresser.

  “I’ll be back,” he calls to Mia.

  “Okay,” she responds, having heard our entire conversation already. Her place is small, so it’s not like you can have a conversation in secret.

  He heads out and I push the bathroom door open.

  I laugh when I find her practically hidden by all the bubbles.

 
“Enjoying your bath?” I ask her, sitting down on the closed toilet lid.

  “Yeah, I was trying to relax before some crazy person showed up demanding to see me.”

  I smile and it’s a real one. Already, with only a few words, she’s managed to make me feel better. “When you need your bestie, you need them now. I’m sure you heard everything.”

  “Of course.” She lifts her foot, turning the nozzle on the faucet to add more hot water.

  A weary sigh gusts out of my lips.

  “Did you lie to him?” she asks me, not holding back.

  “I don’t know,” I answer honestly. “I’m … confused. You know me, I’ve never had a serious relationship before, let alone a boyfriend. Things between Rush and I changed. I didn’t want them to, it sorta happened.” I stare at a tile on the wall, it’s easier than looking at her. “Then I got pregnant, and here we are.” I lift my hands and let them fall to my lap in defeat. “He said he loves me, but Mia,” I sniffle, my eyes flooding with tears, “how can I believe him? My parents told me they loved me, but they didn’t. Everything they did always proved the opposite. Their love was toxic. It smothered me and distorted my perception. How can I ever trust that someone’s love is genuine? The kind of love you read about in books?”

  Water sloshes as she reaches out and grabs my hand in her wet one. “You can’t trust that, Kira. Love is a risk. When you give your heart to someone there’s always the chance you’ll get hurt. But being hurt is a fact of life, would you rather live with only ever experiencing the bad things or would you take the good things too, even if it meant possible hurt?” She looks at me with wide blue eyes, encouraging me to think, to feel. “I’m your best friend—if you knew ten years from now we’ll get in a fight and never speak again, would you not want to be my friend now? You can’t predict the future. What ifs exist to hold us back. Ask yourself different what ifs. What if you never take a risk?”

  I wipe away a stray tear, sniffling.

  “I know I have to put myself out there, but it’s scary.”

  “So is crossing the street, Kira,” she says sarcastically. “But you still do it.”