Burn So Good

by J. H. Croix

  While Caleb was waiting for his burger, he stole a few of my fries. It was such a small gesture and something he had done probably hundreds of times when we were dating in high school. Like most teenage boys, he’d pretty much been a bottomless pit when it came to food. Holly was bantering with Nate about a project he was helping her brother with when I glanced up to Caleb just as he bit into one of the fries he’d snagged. It was as if he recognized what he’d done at the same moment I did.

  We both froze, staring at each other. My belly did a quick little flip, my tricky heart twisting sweetly in my chest. All of a sudden, emotion knotted in my throat, crashing through me. It wasn’t a bad feeling. Rather, it felt so good to have this moment—just a small gesture—I almost didn’t know what to do with it. I managed to take a breath, and the tightness in my throat eased.

  I smiled because that was all I wanted to do. Caleb flashed a grin and snagged another one of my fries. Within a few moments, their food arrived.

  “So Ella, what’s the plan?” Nate asked in between bites.

  I finished chewing the last bite of my burger and took a sip of my water before glancing to him. “What do you mean?”

  “Are you really here to stay? Isn’t that like the question of the month?”

  Caleb muttered something, but I didn’t quite catch what it was. I looked over at Nate and nodded. “I didn’t know it was the question of the month, but yes I’m here to stay. I took a position with the University of Anchorage. Most of my time will be handling online classes and research, but I’ll go to Anchorage once a week.”

  I felt Caleb’s gaze on me and couldn’t resist glancing his way. His rich chocolate brown eyes held mine for a beat, something flickering in their depths. My heart gave another squeeze, and I had to take a deep breath to gather myself.

  “Well, that’s a damn good thing,” Nate said bluntly. “Everyone’s missed you.”

  Nate wasn’t known for his subtlety. Holly nudged him again with her elbow. “Of course we all missed her. She knows that.”

  “Just saying,” Nate offered as he chewed a bite of his burger. “I told Caleb...”

  “Bro,” Caleb interjected, a hint of warning in his tone.

  Nate glanced up, a look of innocence on his face. Meanwhile, I wondered about what he meant. The moment passed. I kept drinking wine, while they finished their dinner. Holly’s twin brother, Alex, showed up for the agreed upon ride home. Holly glanced to me as she stood, opening her mouth to say something. Caleb spoke before she had a chance. “I’ll give Ella a ride home. It’s on my way.”

  I was staying at my parents’ house, which was in fact on the way to his parents’ house, but I doubted that he was staying there. All I knew was I wanted to snatch those few minutes of time with him.

  As Nate stood to let Holly by, she glanced to me, a question in her eyes. “I can hitch a ride with Caleb. Good to see you, Alex,” I said, glancing his way and hoping to gloss over any curiosity about my choice.

  Alex grinned. “Always good to see you. Holly won’t shut up about you being home finally.”

  In the mix of Nate and Caleb standing, I slipped out of the booth as well. Alex was like a brother to me. He tugged me into a quick hug. Tall and lanky, he shared Holly’s blonde hair and brown eyes. “I know I’ll be seeing you soon,” he offered as he stepped back.

  Holly then engulfed me in another hug, whispering in my ear. “You sure you don’t need a ride?”

  “I’m sure,” I murmured.

  “Okay, call you tomorrow then,” she said as she stepped away. With a wave, she and Alex left.

  Nate gave me a quick hug as his name was called over from the pool tables in the back corner. “See you soon,” he said with a nod and a wink to Caleb.

  Caleb and I were alone by the booth. The hum of voices around us faded as I looked up at him. The moment my eyes met his, electricity pinged through my body, heat blooming from the center outward. I’d forgotten how intent his gaze could be. It was as if I was the only person in the universe to him with his dark gaze searching mine. Without a word, he nudged his head to the backdoor and turned, waiting for me to walk ahead. At the last minute, he tugged his wallet out and tossed cash on the table.

  I threaded my way through the tables, feeling Caleb’s presence behind me. I was the slightest bit tipsy, but not too much. Though I’d enjoyed my wine, Caleb had nothing more than water. Walking out into the chilly fall evening, I paused as the door fell shut behind us.

  “I don’t know what you drive,” I said, glancing to him as he stopped at my side.

  We stood there in the fading light of dusk. A cool breeze gusted across the parking lot, fluttering the leaves on the trees along the lake’s shores. A few leaves blew loose, little flecks of yellow in the gloaming.

  Time felt as if it was collapsing into itself. I felt as if my past was barreling towards me and flying behind me at the same time. Because, you see, everything with Caleb felt so familiar. Being home felt so familiar. The distinct screech of an eagle cut through the quiet, rising above the distant hum of voices filtering out from Wildlands.

  The sound snapped the moment. My belly fluttered and liquid heat slid through my veins. I looked over at Caleb. With his familiar dark brown gaze on me, it felt as if he could see right through me. Without a word, he turned and I followed along at his side, our footsteps crunching on the gravel.

  We stopped beside a black truck. As soon as I saw it, I recognized it more clearly from the day I’d seen it. Sometimes I wondered if I felt so safe with him because, by chance or fate or coincidence, he happened to have rescued me twice in my life. Yet, I sensed there was more to it than that. Trust didn’t come easily to me, not anymore.

  Being cyber-stalked had done funny things to me. It made me question everything—my judgment, my sanity, and always my safety. Yet, with Caleb, that jumpy feeling inside went away. It was an immense relief.

  I stopped beside his truck on the passenger side. Turning, I looked up to find his gaze waiting. I’d forgotten how handsome he was. It wasn’t as if I hadn’t seen him at all. In the ten years since the accident, I’d seen him a handful of times. The last time had been about five years ago—just another passing interaction in town when I was visiting. Each time it hurt to see him, and then I would shove the feeling down, tucking it away so I didn’t have to face it.

  Yet, here and now, I again experienced that sense of time collapsing. As he stared at me in the wispy light, my heart started to pound hard and deep, sensation spiraling inside. He took a step, and then he was right in front of me. My hips bumped against his truck. My breath hitched and heat flashed through my body.

  He lifted a hand, brushing a loose lock of hair off my cheek, his fingers trailing over the stitches at my hairline. “It looks like it’s healing okay,” he said, his voice gruff.

  My voice came out husky. “It doesn’t hurt. I have an appointment in another few days to get the stitches out.”

  He tucked my hair behind my ear, the brush of his calloused fingertips against the sensitive shell sending a hot shiver through me with goose bumps chasing in its wake.

  “What did you mean when you said you missed me?” he asked, referring to my abrupt declaration in the hospital last week.

  I could hardly hear over the heartbeat pounding through my body. I was a jumble of emotion and sensation. On the heels of a shallow breath, I swallowed. “Just that.”

  “Why did you come home?”

  I stared at him, not wanting to explain everything. Certainly not now.

  I didn’t even know where to start. How did I explain that I was finally trying to come to terms with what I’d been running from? I was so weary of the muddled guilt about the accident. I felt so awful that Jake had died when I’d been driving and somehow should’ve, could’ve been able to stop it from happening. Yet, I needed, no wanted, to lay that to rest if I could. There was that and the fact that what had finally pushed me to come home was a stalker. Dear God. My life was a colossal mess. I
gave myself a shake, trying to focus.

  Caleb looked through me, his gaze slicing right to my core, to the part of me that had come to doubt so much about myself in the last few years. I pushed back against the feeling. With a hard shake inside, I took a deep breath and told only half the truth. “I missed being here. It was time to come home.”

  His eyes narrowed, darkening as he searched my face. His fingers sifted through my hair. “And that’s all?”

  I shrugged. I didn’t want to keep talking about this, not right now. Because the truth would come out, yet it was only part of the story. Yes, certain events had pushed me in this direction, yet my desire to come home had been the call in my heart that never died. I didn’t like how it felt to consider the rest—how small and vulnerable it made me feel.

  Instead, I focused on something else—the heat coiling in my belly and the threads stitching me closer to him. Sliding my hand around the nape of his neck and into his hair, I pulled him down for a kiss.

  If he meant to push the point with me, he let it go. Our kiss was a shock of contact, a bolt of lightning through me. It sent white-hot heat straight up my spine and spiraling outward. On the heels of my gasp, his tongue swept into my mouth, and I blessedly forgot everything else.

  Chapter Five

  Caleb

  I told myself I wasn’t going to kiss Ella. I told myself there was something else going on with her, and I needed to know. I told myself we needed to untangle the messy emotions left over from the accident. I told myself a lot of things.

  Yet, my body trumped my mind. With Ella’s body flush against mine as she rose up on her tiptoes and slid her hand into my hair, my brain simply stopped functioning. The moment her lips met mine, that was it. I couldn’t resist the sweet heat of her lips, the glide of her tongue against mine.

  I didn’t know what first love was like for everyone, but I knew what it was like for me. Innocence didn’t quite capture it. When it came to Ella and me, there had been an elemental rawness to it, a purity. Everything was light and heavy at once. There were so many firsts that could never be repeated. So much meaning was carved into how I felt about her. There was that and then how things blew apart. Reality had crashed into us, leaving us behind in emotional disarray.

  I’d wondered if we could recapture any of it because of how guarded she was now. But it melted away the moment we touched. She’d always been bold with a hint of wildness to her. Just as she was now. Her hand curled into my hair. On the heels of another gasp from her, I crowded against her, my hand gripping her hair almost roughly.

  My need for her had been pushed down, forced into hibernation for too many years. No one else had ever quite measured up to it. I’d had a few semi-serious relationships, but they always petered out. Because I kept searching. Searching for something that came even remotely close to what it felt like when I was with Ella.

  For a while, I convinced myself it was because of how things ended with us—at a time when we were both a mess and vulnerable for reasons that had nothing to do with our young relationship. And yet, they were tangled up in everything, including the end. Spiraling in my own grief of losing my best friend and worried about her, I could hardly think straight. I’d lashed out when she pushed me away.

  And then felt nothing but years of regret afterwards. It had been so obvious she believed—for no logical reason—she somehow could have changed the outcome of that accident. We’d all been hurting, but she’d shouldered an extra burden, and I hadn’t known how to help her. I was too young then to navigate the emotionally tricky terrain.

  The moment I’d held her again in the hospital last week, I’d remembered everything I’d missed. Now with her kissing me, our mouth’s fused together as if we were one, I couldn’t get enough.

  My hand slid through her hair, down her spine, and cupped her lush bottom. Her perfect, heart shaped ass had starred in a few too many of my fantasies. She groaned as her hips flexed into me. I was rock hard and ready and had been at half-mast since I’d gotten close to her tonight.

  I drew back, murmuring her name roughly, my lips blazing a hot trail down her neck, savoring every pant and whimper coming from her. A door slamming in the distance snapped me out of my lust-induced trance. I realized we were in the parking lot in full view of anyone coming in and out of the back of Wildlands. I couldn’t bring myself to draw away too far, so I stayed where I was. Pressed against her, I could feel her heart pounding against my chest, its beat as wild as that of mine.

  Opening my eyes, I looked into hers, that rich green with tiny flecks of gold. Her lips were puffy from our kiss, her eyes dark. The air was heavy around us, alive and weighted with need and emotion.

  “Come home with me,” I murmured.

  Ella stared at me, her gaze hazy, but sharpening as we looked at each other. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” she finally said.

  “Tell me why it’s a bad idea.”

  A little laugh escaped, her eyes widening slightly.

  “Are you seeing someone?” I asked.

  She shook her head sharply, a hint of bitterness flashing in her gaze.

  I filed that away, knowing that there was more to every story with her.

  “What about you?” she asked in return.

  I shook my head. “No.”

  We stared at each other, the air humming. I desperately wanted her to come home with me, but I sensed I’d be pushing too far and too fast for now. Yet, it didn’t change what I wanted.

  “I want to say yes,” she finally said before going quiet. Her teeth snagged the corner of her bottom lip as she eyed me. Hope flared in my heart, while my body had plenty of its own ideas. “But my parents are expecting me home.” Something flickered in her eyes again. Worry, or fear. I wasn’t sure what. “Maybe we shouldn’t rush.”

  There were all kinds of things I wanted to say, but I knew none of them were sensible. If there was one thing I didn’t want to do again, it was to put my heart out there only to have Ella stomp on it.

  For all I knew, she was coming home on the heels of a break up and I was a potential rebound. So I stepped away from her, though it took an act of pure discipline to do so.

  As I started driving towards her parents’ place, it occurred to me that the last time I’d actually been in a car with Ella had been the night of the accident. That recognition was a hard kick to my chest. It felt so familiar to be with her.

  Chapter Six

  Ella

  Walking into the kitchen at my parents’ house, I found my mother making breakfast and coffee. Georgia Masters, the town librarian, was a force to be reckoned with. She was a no nonsense and endlessly supportive mother.

  Before I’d even spoken, she glanced over her shoulder. “Have a seat dear. I’ll get you some coffee and eggs.”

  “Mom, I can manage to get my own coffee, and you don’t have to cook me breakfast every day.”

  I’d been here just over a week now, and she’d made breakfast for me every day. Not that I minded. My mother was an amazing cook, and it was wonderful, absolutely wonderful, to be home and have her fuss over me.

  She set the spatula down on the counter, her green eyes crinkling at the corners with her smile. With her once-brown hair now completely silver, her green eyes stood out more brightly. “I know I don’t have to. This is the first time you’ve been home for more than a visit for years, and I want to spoil you,” she said pointedly.

  She turned the burner off under the scrambled eggs and pointed to the table. “Sit.”

  Returning her smile, I walked faster, scooting past her. “I’m getting my own coffee.”

  Pouring myself a cup of coffee, I added a dash of cream before sitting down at the table. I took a few sips as I looked out the kitchen window. My parents’ had a sprawling log home with cottonwood trees scattered around it. This area of Alaska was rocky and hilly in the distant foothills of Denali, the tallest mountain peak in North America and the centerpiece of the Alaska Range. The kitchen looked out over a g
rassy field with a river running through it. Though I’d never stopped missing Alaska, being here drove the point home. The edge of wildness, the spectacular beauty—it was home to me.

  I savored my coffee as I soaked in the view and the feeling of being back here. Within a few minutes, my mother was joining me at the table, serving us both plates of scrambled eggs with feta and red peppers. They were, of course, delicious.

  One of the things that had added to my shame about what happened with Lance was I felt like I should’ve seen it coming. Even when I first met him, he gave me a bad feeling, yet I figured there couldn’t be much to it. My mother was such a strong, smart, independent woman. I felt as if I hadn’t lived up to the woman I could be.

  Shame was a funny thing. It rattled around in your brain, running laps around rational thoughts and winning every race. In that sense, shame was close friends with guilt. Both feelings functioned similarly in how they could take hold in your mind. I recalled talking about my guilt with my therapist after Jake died. My therapist talked about how you just have to accept that bad things simply happen sometimes, even when no one’s done anything wrong. She tried to help me walk through to the point where I believed that about the accident. Over and over she walked me through who was actually responsible. Eventually, I’d made it to the point where I could see the possibility of letting go of my guilt. Coming home was the last step, or so I hoped.

  The accident was so much messier and sad and heartbreaking and final. It was a single event, yet it sprawled ugly and messy in my heart and mind. When Lance started stalking me, even that led back to the accident. Intellectually, I told myself it made no sense, but a part of me believed I simply didn’t deserve happiness and Lance terrifying me the way he did was simply part of the hand I’d been dealt as a result.

  Being stalked made me feel crazy. Lance wasn’t part of my life in any personal way. Yet, from a distance, he managed to terrify me, to make me look over my shoulder everywhere I went without ever laying a finger on me.