Slow Burn (Feverish #4)

by Jade C. Jamison

  But where was the fun in that?

  Clara asked, “What was that all about, Sophia? After that whole incident, we saw some photos of what was speculated to be other fights—and possibly even a little more than that. In fact, we think maybe there might have been some sort of love connection—much to the dismay of Mr. Zimmer’s fans.”

  Holy hell. Apparently, they had done lots of homework. Even Sophie hadn’t bothered following up on the airport photographer, other than making a note that the writer had blown that visit way out of proportion in the tabloids.

  Of course, with a headline like Kiss and Makeup? she probably should have read at least part of that “exclusive” story—but who believed anything the tabloids said?

  Clara had Sophie in her sights, making the guest realize she hadn’t yet answered the woman’s half-question. “Um…as much as I’d like to blame Mr. Zimmer, I should probably take ownership of that whole thing. Mr. Zimmer, er, Brian is a funny guy. He makes jokes all the time, trying to lighten the mood. And, um, we’re, uh…friends. Or were. I’d had a stressful day, my first time modeling during Fashion Week and for a huge designer no less—and Brian was his usual endearing self. Unfortunately, I took it all the wrong way and, well…that video shows just how ugly I was.”

  “Oh, come now, Sophia. You can’t take all the blame for that.”

  Oh, God. If only this woman knew the evil plan she’d devised, how the stupid incident had been plotted from the beginning—she’d probably rip Sophie to shreds. “I can and I will. Brian is a stand-up guy, loyal, trustworthy, kind, and funny—and I treated him so poorly. Having to see that video over and over reminds me just how awfully I treated him.”

  “Maybe you’re forgetting some of your exchange. He doubled down on his stance that models are unintelligent.” While Sophie fought to keep her poise, the woman looked at the light blue card in her hand. “He called you—and I quote—a stupid model, insinuating that you wouldn’t even know what a high IQ is and then he called you crazy.”

  It was now or never. Brian wouldn’t give her another chance and she couldn’t really blame him—but that didn’t give her carte blanche to allow the lie to continue to be told.

  “You know what, Clara? I could argue that, in some ways, I was dumb. You say on your show that you like to get to the bottom of things, so I’m just going to lay it all out. Brian Zimmer is a stand-up guy. He’s sweet and funny and caring—and his sense of humor really got under my skin at first. Now, though, I think it’s one of my favorite parts about him. That fight at Fashion Week? I staged it.” Sophie heard the audience gasp collectively at her statement, but she had to plow through. Clara’s eyes were wide, though, and she was gobbling it up, happy to remain quiet so long as Sophie kept spilling her guts. “I guess I’m a drama queen and didn’t even know it but, somehow, the fight turned real. We started saying mean, hateful things to each other. They say you don’t know what you have until it’s gone, and that’s me. I didn’t realize until I’d pushed him away so hard that he didn’t want me anymore that he is the perfect man for me.”

  The studio was eerily quiet until Clara began talking again. “What would you say to Brian if he was here right now?”

  Sophie’s heart started thudding in her chest. Internally, she cursed herself that she hadn’t asked more about this particular talk show before agreeing to appear. Did Clara do things like that, inviting the celebrity one had a contention with to the same show to stir up even more drama? When she’d been a kid, Sophie remembered seeing shocking daytime shows that thrived on that sort of spectacle—but did Clara do that?

  Which begged the question was Brian here somewhere?

  If so, this was her one and only shot. Swallowing the saliva that had pooled in her mouth, Sophie shifted her eyes from Clara to look directly in the camera, hoping the little red light indicated she was looking at the correct one. Not that it mattered. “I would tell him I’m sorry. He was right—I’m the stupidest woman on the planet. Despite all the horrible things I did to you, you accepted me unconditionally. You saw things in me that even I didn’t know existed—and you made feel alive. Free. Happy.” With that last word, a lump formed in her throat and, suddenly, her eyes filled with tears ready to spill. But she took a deep breath of air, pushing past that overflow of emotion. “So I would want to thank Brian for opening up my heart and ask him if he’d give me a second chance.”

  Once again, the audience, like their brains were linked to each other’s, let out a collective awwwwwww!

  As Sophie turned from the camera to Clara, she was ready to face the music. When Clara started grilling her for more details about the whole truth, it sunk in that Brian was not here.

  It made sense. Why would he come here? He thought Sophie was a loose cannon so, even if invited, he would have expected nothing but the worst.

  With all her strength, Sophie fought off tears throughout the short interview. She could—and would—cry later. After all, losing the love of your life you didn’t even know until he was gone merited a good meltdown.

  And, perhaps, chocolate ice cream. She hadn’t eaten ice cream in over three years. This occasion deserved that at the very least.

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Last Five Seconds had two days off. After that, they had about three more weeks in the U.S. and then they were going to begin the international part of their tour, starting in Europe. Touring abroad made what might have seemed like a whirlwind at the time more like a fair breeze—but Brian wouldn’t change it for anything. Even though it wore them all out going to different countries, being surrounded by different cultures, eating foods they’d never discover back at home made it all worth it.

  Plus, by the end, they would want to be home.

  And Sophie had been right about one thing—the publicity had renewed interest in their album and the band was pretty fucking sure a lot of the people checking them out this go-round were first timers, people who wouldn’t ordinarily give their tunes a chance. While that was okay because their music wasn’t for everyone, it was comforting that they were still making a living, even after taking a risk on creating something unusual.

  After Europe, they would have a few days in Japan, followed by Australia and South America—and then home. Next summer, they were slated to do a few festivals, but those were always fun because they could enjoy them as fans, too.

  But even all that…none of it had Brian jazzed like it ordinarily would have. There was a big fucking empty hole in his chest and no longer could booze and broads fill it. Worse, he’d invited Sophie out for coffee to settle things once and for all.

  After ignoring all her texts and calls, the guys made him watch a clip on YouTube of the Clara Ferguson Show, one where Sophie had been a guest and confessed it all.

  She’d bared her soul and told the complete truth. She hadn’t used the L word, but she’d tiptoed up to it. More than that, she’d apologized.

  That, at the very least, had earned them one last conversation. One last time to clear the air and be honest with each other. Now that he’d sorted through all his shit and she’d been pretty adult about admitting her part in all of it, he wanted to at least talk about it. So, one day before the band was scheduled to take an international flight out of the U.S., Brian flew to New York for a meeting over coffee with Sophie Buckley.

  He was going to close this chapter—and then, maybe, he could move on.

  Sophie had recommended a quaint coffee shop close to her house, a place on a tiny street near the Hudson River. While it was still all city, it was a part of Manhattan Brian had never been to. The buildings, while tall, were dwarfed compared to the skyscrapers downtown. There was an energy in the air that Brian fed off of and, although this visit might turn out to be painful, he was going to allow himself to be positive about it.

  After the cab dropped him off, he dashed between a couple of cars parked on the street to get to the little café. When he walked in, he could smell roasted coffee beans followed by a sweet scent—an
d then his eyes caught Sophie standing by the counter. Flashing a faint smile, she waved and Brian turned to walk toward her.

  Goddamn, the woman was beautiful—he could say that much for her—and she somehow seemed even more breathtaking than she’d been when he’d first met her. She’d kept her hair that shade of coffee he liked, and the creamy pink lipstick she wore made Brian’s imagination go wild.

  No. Nope. No way. Despite that short pink skirt and curve-hugging white top completely visible under the open black leather jacket, he was not going to allow his brain to think of her as anything other than an acquaintance. And this visit was to bury the hatchet and say goodbye.

  Forever.

  So his idiot brain had to get a fucking clue. This woman was gorgeous but she was not for him. They were not meant for each other and the sooner he finished this, the better. “So what do you recommend?”

  “Straight to business. I like it. Um…” Sophie turned her head to look at the black chalkboard on the wall, the café’s menu displayed in various colored chalks. “The vanilla latte is pretty good. But I get the low-fat sugar-free version. I can’t vouch for the regular stuff.”

  Damn, this woman was still on a tight leash. “I’d expect nothing less from you.”

  Sophie’s green eyes narrowed. “What’s that supposed to—” Pausing, she took a deep breath and forced another smile. “Never mind. Sorry.”

  They put in their coffee orders at the counter and the barista asked them to take a seat, telling them he’d bring their drinks to them shortly. Not surprisingly, Sophie had ordered black coffee, but Brian was taking a chance on her recommendation.

  Once they’d sat at a corner table away from the window, Brian glanced around. Nobody with a phone, no paparazzi outside. That might change, but, for now, he was going to be grateful for a few minutes of anonymity. After Sophie had put her tiny purse on a corner of the table, she folded her hands in front of her and looked at Brian wide-eyed, inviting him to speak.

  It was now or never.

  “Thanks for agreeing to meet with me. I, uh, I just wanted to kind of explain why I lost my shit in September.” When she nodded, he said, “Let me backtrack. Thank you for the public apology. You didn’t have to do that, Sophie. And you definitely didn’t have to confess to your ruse. Your secret was safe with me.”

  “Yes, but you did all that for me. You wouldn’t have even been there if I hadn’t asked you to.”

  “It doesn’t matter. Anyway, when you started poking about me being a clown wanting attention, I really lost my shit.”

  “I know. I’m sorry.”

  “But it was an overreaction. I haven’t watched the video and I won’t, but I know my reaction to you was over the top.”

  “I don’t know about that.”

  “I do. You’re gonna have to trust me on this one. It was.”

  “Your coffee, ma’am,” said the barista, sliding a big cup and saucer to the side of Sophie. “And your latte, sir. Would you like creamer or anything else?”

  “No, thank you.”

  “We’re good.” Once the barista returned to the counter, Brian took a sip of his drink. “This is pretty good. You should try it sometime.”

  Sophie forced another smile and lifted up her cup. “I’ve got a big shoot tomorrow so maybe after that.”

  Brian wasn’t about to lecture her about letting go anymore. The woman knew it was a flaw and, besides, after today, she wouldn’t be his fucking problem anymore. Putting his cup down, he said, “When I was a kid, I was the shortest in class. Well, the shortest boy. There were one or two girls who were sometimes shorter. But I was the runt of the litter. From kindergarten until high school, I was the little guy—and you know how kids are. They find your weaknesses and exploit them. That was mine. But I discovered pretty early on that humor deflected all that shit. If I could make ‘em laugh—the bullies and the observers alike—then it lessened the blow. And if I was making everyone lose their shit laughing, the bullies weren’t getting what they wanted out of it, even if they were beating the shit out of me.”

  “That’s a good way to deal with it.”

  “Maybe.” Brian let his mind travel backward in time to that one incident that had solidified the way he reacted to just about everything in his life. “There was this one time…I was in fifth grade, I think. Still the shortest boy. There were even a bunch of girls who were taller or the same height. Anyway, my class was in the gym for PE. There were two kids who’d been picked to be captains for dodgeball. Nothing new about that—and I was also used to being one of the last kids chosen.

  “But I’d been practicing.

  “My old man used to watch sitcom reruns after getting home from work every night while he demolished a six-pack or two. For a long time, I’d play in my room or out in the backyard, but I started figuring out that maybe I could use humor to my advantage. My dad did. He was always cracking jokes. So I started practicing insulting people in the privacy of my bedroom—all the bullies. If I had a shot, what would I say? When I was under the gun, I couldn’t think of the perfect responses, right? But if I practiced, maybe it would come more naturally. At least, that’s what I thought.

  “And I was right. So that day in gym..we were getting picked one by one for teams—not based on anything like agility or speed. We were getting picked due to popularity. Well, I’d never been a popular kid, ‘cause I was short. It was finally down to the last two—me and another girl. At the time, I was thinking, Please don’t let me be picked last—like that’s any better than second to last. But I somehow felt like that would be better, you know?”

  Brian took a drink and then continued. Now, though, he was looking at the tattoos on his hand instead of at Sophie. His mind had taken him back to that day, one of a thousand awful days of being fucking bullied—but this was a day when, for better or worse, he finally took control. “There was this girl, Penny. She wasn’t a captain, but she was telling the captain on her team who to pick. She pointed at me and said, ‘Don’t pick Brian Shorter. He’s so lame.’ And it was time to try my new act. Penny had been calling me Brian Shorter for two years and that was just it. So I said, ‘I might be short, but at least I don’t have rabbit teeth or fish eyes.’ At first, she just stared at me and the whole room was quiet. Don’t ask me where the teacher was, ‘cause she was nowhere around for this shit. Finally, the captain of the other team started laughing, really quietly at first, but when I heard it, that was all I needed. Suddenly, I had wind under my wings and because she was so shocked, she wasn’t talking—so I did. ‘And have you looked at your legs? They’re like stilts. How can you even walk without falling?’ After that, all the kids started laughing—and Penny’s face turned red. I had a couple of other zingers tucked away, like something stupid about her pumpkin hair, but the kids had already fucking lost it.

  “They picked the other girl, but the other team was glad to have me. I actually got slaps on the back and high fives. The teacher finally showed back up and we started playing. I don’t even know if our side won or lost but I felt like a fucking winner that day.” Wrapping his hand around his cup, Brian finally made eye contact with Sophie’s clear green ones. “I’d always felt the sting of words wielded against me, but I finally understood the power I had—and I was a beast unleashed. After that, kids didn’t care that I was short. I was the life of the party—and the bullies started leaving me alone. Later on, I had another problem, because I discovered it was hard to be taken seriously when you’re joking around all the time, but it was a hell of a lot better than being picked on all the time. In my junior year of high school, I grew five inches and not only caught up to most of the guys but even grew taller than some of them. By then, bullies were a thing of the past—but I guess I’d never forgotten the way they made me feel as a kid. Penny had just been the last in a line of ‘em, and I’d had enough. So the humor…I think you called me a clown? Yeah, it’s ingrained. It’s a defense mechanism.”

  “But,” Sophie said, reaching across
the table, touching Brian’s hand with her cool fingers, “sometimes your humor can be off-putting. And you don’t need it all the time. You’ve got a great personality, Brian. You’re smart and sweet. I love your humor, but sometimes it bites.”

  “I know. It was intentional. I’ve developed it into quite a sword over the years.”

  “You have—but you can put it down once in a while.”

  “Yeah, Soph, but it’s more than that. Nowadays, I like making people laugh. I like making myself laugh. Life’s too fucking short to be wound tight.”

  “Like I am?”

  “I didn’t say that…but yeah. Like you are. That can’t be healthy, and I refuse to be all fucking serious about shit. Sure, there’s a time and a place for it, but I’m not inappropriate about it.”

  Sophie slowly snaked her hand back to her side of the table. “It depends on what you mean by inappropriate.”

  “Like I don’t call people names anymore or poke fun at the way people look.”

  “Hold on, Brian. One thing. Do you know how many times you called me crazy? You didn’t always use that exact word, but more than once—and not just in private—you insinuated that I’m insane. I’ll admit that sometimes I can get a little hysterical…but I’m not crazy. And some of your barbs hurt my feelings.”

  Her eyes told him that much. But he didn’t know how to change something so fundamental about himself, something that was as big a part of who he was as his tattoos. His first instinct was to double down, to tell her she most certainly was nuts if she couldn’t let it go—but then he’d only be underscoring what she’d said.

  So he searched her eyes and said the only thing he could. “I’m sorry.”

  At least now his words could give them both some closure.

  Chapter Twenty-six

  It wasn’t the strangest thing Sophie had ever done, but nowadays she felt like she could take some risks. After all, it had been that way of thinking that had gotten her to where she was today.