When Our Worlds Ignite (An Our Worlds Spin-Off Book 1)

by Lindsey Iler

  When Our Worlds Ignite

  An Our Worlds Spin-Off

  Copyright 2016 Lindsey Iler

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the written permission of the publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the product of the authors imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Cover Design by Cassy Roop at Pink Ink Designs

  Formatted by Wendi Temporado at Ready, Set, Edit

  Editing by Katie Mac

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgement

  About the Author

  To my parents, for raising a little girl who sometimes had big dreams, but more importantly, for allowing her to grow up to be a woman who knew she could achieve them.

  Nothing like your best friend being in love with a complete idiot to change your plans for the day.

  How do Graham and Kennedy keep getting themselves into these situations? And who in their right mind runs into a burning building?

  I shuffle outside of the hospital, so mentally exhausted, my hair hurts. Beside me, a man lights a cigarette, and I half wish I had a bad habit like that to keep my nerves calm. Hospitals stress me out, and my friends’ track records aren’t that great. At least Kennedy’s not the patient this time, but because it’s Graham, it might as well be her.

  When I take a deep breath, a bit of my neighbor’s smoke burns my nostrils, reminding me why I don’t partake in the consumption of nicotine.

  Bing. Ugh, it’s a text, and digging in my purse seems like too much work. Bing. The tone rings again, grating on my last nerve. I pull out the source, and my eyes burn holes in the screen.

  “Fuck,” I whisper-shout. The smoker glances at me, and I turn my back on him.

  Dan: I didn’t want to bother you, but Rico gave me little to work with. What’s going on? Is everyone okay?

  I read the text twice. My finger twitches over the keyboard. I click the sleep button on the side and shove the phone in my pocket. The metal burns through my jeans until I practically feel it against my bare skin, begging me to pull it back out and reply. Just ignore it. Would blatantly avoiding him be too obvious? I’m an adult for fuck’s sake. This is the time to pull up my big girl panties and act like it.

  Me: Kennedy and Graham are together now. He ran in to save Ben, but everyone is okay. I speak the words as I text them. They’re straightforward. Noncommittal. I don’t receive a response right away. I don’t expect to.

  After sending a quick message to Kennedy, I walk to the parking lot and search for my car in the sea of others. The place is packed. Like me, most of these cars belong to people who love a patient inside of the walls. Their worries mirror my own.

  Kennedy and I have been going through what I would call a rough patch in our friendship. I wouldn’t put it all on my shoulders, just like she wouldn’t put it on her own. Between Dan and me breaking up and my parents’ divorce, topped with Kennedy going through the trauma and recovering from everything in her past, things with us haven’t been the same. Putting our own shit on the back burner for each other is impossible, and a part of me understands it’s okay. Being selfish is allowed.

  With that being said, no matter what we have going on in our own lives, we’ll always drop anything when the other one is truly in need. One of the hardest things I’ve ever done was walk into the bar earlier today to tell her about Graham’s accident. Not because of the rift in our friendship, but because no one wants to be the one who delivers the scary news. Remembering Kennedy’s reaction in the car, witnessing her chest heaving for relief, is painful. One thing I know, she’s the best friend a girl could ask for. We may not always understand each other, but I would’ve done anything to stop her pain at that moment.

  The quiet, dark house is a strange sight. Graham’s place is typically filled with life. Cars come and go all hours of the day and night, and lights shine throughout the rooms. Now, it seems weird to be stepping inside without Graham and Kennedy greeting me.

  “Hello?” My voice thunders through the empty foyer. Since Rico wasn’t at the hospital, I assume he’s here somewhere. At first glance, the place looks abandoned.

  I throw my purse onto a chair and follow a faint light to the kitchen. The clocks on the stove and microwave are eerily bright in the darkness.

  My hand fumbles on the wall, searching for the switch, and I squint at the jarring brightness. When I turn, Rico looms in front of me, and I jump back from fear of the unknown.

  “Jesus, Rico,” I shout, punching him in the shoulder. “Give a girl a heads up.”

  His hands wrap around me and draw me in tight. His breathing is labored. Something’s wrong. Oh, gosh. I don’t do well with emotional men.

  “You okay, buddy?” I rub his back like my mom would do when I was little.

  “I’ve been sitting here, waiting for someone to show up,” he explains.

  His heavy sigh tells me my first prediction is right. For him to sit around in a dark, empty house, something is bothering him. Rico’s not dependent on anyone. The idea he’d need company is ludicrous.

  Taking his hand, I usher him to the table and push him into a chair. The fresh coffee smells divine, and I pour two cups before sitting beside him. My hand rests on his leg, and I lean forward to get a better view of his face.

  “What’s bothering you?” I ask.

  When his troubled gaze lands on me, I offer an encouraging smile. I’ve never seen Rico this way, and it’s freaking me out. He’s usually the happy-go-lucky type with a joke to crack the tension in the room.

  “I just can’t help thinking about what could’ve happened to him and Ben. Everyone’s world would have been destroyed.” Rico’s voice is guarded as if he’s trying to keep his feelings secret. “You guys don’t know much about my life before I came to Connecticut, but what I can say is, I’ve never felt like I’ve had a family until I met Graham, and then you and Kennedy, and,” he pauses and smiles, “then Amanda came along. It hurts to think of anything ever happening to any of you.”

  “Honey.” I clench my jaw to control the sob that wants to escape. His fears are too real. Hearing someone strong like Rico express concern only solidifies my own. “I know, but he’s okay.” My words are meant to reassure us both.

  “Yeah, but lately, it’s like everything’s off-kilter. You and Dan aren’t even speaking, and . . .” His expression grows serious. He takes a gulp of the hot coffee, trying to scald away his emotions. “Fuck, I sound like a girl.” The pink tinge on his cheeks makes him look like a little boy.

  When I think about the guys in our small group of friends, they are anything but girly. But when the time is right, and the stars align in perfect position, they somehow manage to bring out their sensitive side. They’re not afraid to show it, and while it may be under-appreciated, it’s a refreshing trait to behold.


  “You care about us.” I shrug off his embarrassment. “It makes you human. I know how much you hate for people to see you as a human being, Rico. You’re always ready with a dick joke and shoving your womanizing ways down our throats, but I’m happy you care so much about us.”

  Rico’s phone alerts him of a text. He pulls it out of his pocket and reads the screen. His fingers twitch and his knee bounces as he types a response, his eyes darting back and forth between me and the keys.

  My mind immediately jumps to Graham and Kennedy. Did something happen? When I left they were okay, but could something have changed drastically from then to now? I cross my fingers under the table and send up a silent prayer. Right now, I can’t survive anything else changing in my life. Too much has happened lately.

  “Everything okay?” I ask when he tucks his phone in his jeans.

  “Dan’s on his way.” He grabs my hand and massages my knuckles with his thumbs. The rough texture of his hands gives me a sense of protection from any feelings I may have at the news.

  “Of course, he is.” Though the words are meant for me, Rico hears my faint whisper.

  “He has just as much of a right to all of us as you do, Vi.”

  Dammit, he’s right. Me breaking up with Dan doesn’t mean everyone else should cut him off completely. Would I really want that? Of course not. Maybe. Fuck, I don’t know anything anymore.

  “I know. No one here to blame but me. I’m the one who broke up with him,” I snap as I push back from the table to escape Rico’s knowing stare. My coffee mug is placed none too gently in the sink as I rush out of the room to the stairs.

  “Care to explain why and how you built up enough nerve to break the heart of the guy you love? I don’t mean to butt in, but I know you love him, Violet, so why put yourself through the hell?” Rico hollers.

  His words sting like a million needles poking at the most sensitive layer of my skin. I need some peace and quiet. I don’t have answers to their questions. Why does everyone doubt me and my decisions? Was I wrong? No, I couldn’t have been wrong. As selfish as it seems to everyone else, I did what I felt I needed to do.

  Stepping into the guest room where Dan and I have spent nights tangled together, an onslaught of haunting memories batters me in their storm. Inside these walls, we’ve shared our secrets and dreams. A vision of Dan and me, wrapped in a sheet, our warm bodies connected, assaults my mind. When my back hits the plush blanket, and I’m cradled by the soft mattress, my imagination runs wild, shuffling between the good and the ugly.

  My eyes drift shut, and I feel him beside me. He’s not here, I remind myself. And whose fault is it? Just the idea of seeing him has my head racing back to the day everything fell apart.

  When I pull up in front of Dan’s apartment, I don’t jump out of my car and run inside like I usually do. For the first time ever, I’m in no rush to see him. My chest aches with the guilt flooding my heart. Think this through. Everything I’ve known for the past three years will change. He’ll no longer be the person I can call when I need something. Am I okay with that?

  At the thought of everything I will be losing, my fist bangs against the steering wheel. I’m angry. I’m tormented. I don’t want anything to change, but at what cost?

  On the dash sits a dried flower. Dan loves to hide surprises for me in the most random places. The sight of the once-vibrant red rose makes my breaths shallow. My fingers wrap around the now-rough petals, and I clench my grip until there is nothing left but powder.

  “You can do this. You have to do this,” I say.

  I have no idea how long I sit here lost in my tortured mind. The small pile of crumbled flower holds me captive.

  Dan steps outside and leans against the column with his arms stretched over his chest. Eyes full of tenderness watch me. If only he could see the invisible dagger I hold. I glance away, resolved to stick to my plan. One smile from him will make me second guess everything. Dan is the only person who can twist my emotions in a hundred different directions.

  The next thing I know, he’s pulling my door handle. My eyes bounce to the window. The door doesn’t budge, and he frowns. Reluctantly, I unlock the door and step out of the car, and his arms wrap me in a hug. He’s like a warm blanket on a chilly day. His eyes flit to the back seat where he won’t find what he’s looking for.

  “No bag?” he questions.

  His shoulders slump when I shrug my answer. My silence is a sign of where our day is going, and he knows it.

  “I can’t stay, but we need to talk,” I mutter. The shame and embarrassment in my voice make me cringe.

  Dan doesn’t say anything. A single nod is all I receive. His back is stiff, and he runs his hand through his hair until it pinches the back of his neck. With slow steps, he guides me inside and drops down on the couch as I shut the door and brace myself against the surface. I’m hesitant. The words needed to be spoken will close the lid on the tomb of our relationship.

  “So, what’s going on, Vi? You didn’t come all this way just to say hi, so spit out whatever it is you need to say and put me out of my misery.” He barks in a harsh tone I’ve never heard. His outside demeanor screams self-preservation, but the cracks in his defense glare at me, making this even more challenging.

  Put him out of his misery. Put him out of his misery. The chant is my version of a pep talk, but let’s be real, no amount of words will prepare me for what I’m about to say to my first true love. Rip it off. He’ll lose a few layers of skin, and I’ll gain some back. Deep breath. I’m not the first person to break someone’s heart. I sure as hell won’t be the last. This doesn’t make me special.

  “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking. My parents’ bullshit has been hard to swallow, Dan, and it’s got me wondering if you and I are worth taking a chance on.” My rush of words leaves me breathless.

  Dan reels back, shocked by my statement. The bandage holding us together falls to the floor. The devastation shadowing his perfect face haunts me. My chest aches, echoing his pain.

  A deep breath gives me enough time for another mental pep talk. This is what I need to do. It doesn’t matter if Dan gets hurt.

  “I don’t want to be the girl who puts everything into someone and ends up getting hurt.” The hard truth tastes sour.

  Love is for the weak. Why put everything into someone only to have them step all over my heart? If I’ve learned anything, true love doesn’t exist without an ulterior motive.

  “So, after all this time, you’re throwing us away? You’re willing to forget our history?” His feet land on the coffee table with a loud thud. He crosses his ankles, and his top knee twitches. There’s a crack in his demeanor. Right there in front of me, and with every movement of his knee, it shifts along him, splitting him in half to reveal the truth. I’m killing him.

  “I’m willing to throw it all away if, in the end, my heart is left intact.” My feet carry me forward, but Dan tenses, stopping my steps.

  He sweeps his thumb and pointer finger over his brow, pinching the bridge of his nose. Tears pool in his eyes.

  “What about me?” He lurches off the couch, leering at me.

  A tear streaks down his cheek. My hand begs to wipe it away. Make his pain disappear. Take it all back. How can I stand here and watch him deteriorate? I love him. God, I love him.

  “You don’t care about hurting me?”

  The simple question—six pain-filled words—is what it takes to make my shoulders straighten. A deep breath bolsters my courage to ruin every ounce of love in his heart for me. In the end, I know I’ll have done the right thing. Dan deserves someone who is willing to give him everything, and I’m not willing to give him anything if it requires sacrificing myself.

  “If it’s my heart or yours, mine will always win.” The words sound foreign to my ears. Where was the girl who would lay down her life for him? How did I get to this place? I turn to leave, and Dan stops me with a firm hand on my bicep. I don’t dare face him. “What, Dan?” I whisper, the words
almost halted by the lump forming in my throat.

  “Do you really mean that?” he stammers. The words stick in his throat. They’re afraid of being exposed.

  His reluctance proves he’s not ready to hear my answer. To Dan, everything I’ve said could have easily been my way of pushing him away. It is, but what I need for him to understand is this: I’m not crawling back to him. He’d be stupid to think otherwise.

  I plunge the knife to the hilt where I know it will leave a scar. “If I didn’t, would I be here?” I twirl on my heels, stand on my tiptoes, and kiss him gently on the cheek. “Goodbye, Dan.” I slam the door behind me, trying to control my breath as I push the unlock button on my key fob.

  “Violet,” Dan calls out. My feet cement to the asphalt. “Hold on a second.”

  “I can’t.” I shake my head. Don’t turn around. Don’t let him convince you to stay.

  “That’s bullshit, and you know it. Don’t you dare come into my apartment and say the things you did, and think I’m going to let you walk out of there like it’s just a typical Saturday afternoon. I deserve better than that.”

  “Dan, I’ve said everything I needed to say.” I open my door, but his hand grips the metal, delaying my escape.

  “Look at me.” He smacks his palm against the window. The glass rattles under his strength. “Really look at me, Vi, because I’m not going to say this again. I love you. I loved you when you doubted me in the beginning, and I will love you through this.” His reaction stuns me. Dan is tender and not easily riled. Him looming over me in anger is shocking. His words are a complete contradiction of his promise.

  A glance over my shoulder is almost enough to weaken my resolve. The gloss in his eyes has my stomach in knots. Don’t do this to him. You won’t be able to take this back.

  “This isn’t a phase. I don’t love you anymore.” My mouth stretches in a straight line. It’s too late now. There’s no going back.

  “I need to ask.” He heaves a deep sigh. “Do you honestly believe I’m capable of hurting someone like you?” I look away, and he grips my chin with a force unfamiliar to me. My eyes are brought back to his. “Give me enough respect to look me in the eyes when you break my heart, Violet. It’s the least you can do when you’re hiding behind your bullshit excuses.” His breaths come in quick, shallow bursts.