Flame - Erin Noelle Page 0,83
honestly, that’s what the trigger was for you, right?” He cocks his eyebrow up at me, already knowing the answer. “I knew the day you left I was coming back for you. I knew you needed some time to work out whatever craziness that was going on in that stubborn brain of yours, and I needed to get my shit together and clean up a bunch of things I should’ve dealt with a long time ago. You weren’t the reason I fired Mercedes and hired Emmy Sue, but you ignited a flame under me to get my ass in gear and figure out which direction I want my life and my career to go in for the future.”
This is the part of the night I’ve been worried about this whole time. The big, scary word. Future.
Tilting my head back, I close my eyes and inhale a deep breath through my nose, hold it for a ten-count, blow it out through my mouth, and then open my lids. Everything has been so perfect since the moment I stepped foot into massage room number two yesterday afternoon, better than perfect, actually. I never in my wildest dreams thought any of this shit would ever happen to me. And I’m scared it’s all about to come to an abrupt ending.
“And what direction is that?” I ask timidly, keeping my gaze upward. “What’s next for the famous James ‘Mr. 501’ Levi?”
He shifts his weight to the left side so that he’s slightly angled toward my torso. “Dakota, look at me,” he commands softly. I can feel his eyes pleading with mine.
I don’t look. I’m too nervous to hear what he’s going to say. I don’t want a long-distance relationship, but I don’t want to be without him either. I want to stay just like this . . . forever.
“Dakota,” he repeats my name, this time with a tad more warning in his tone. “We have to talk about this at some point.”
Slowly, I lower my gaze to his and brace myself for the blow. I claimed he only bruised my heart the first time we said goodbye, but I know with full certainty this time it’ll resemble the x-ray of his right arm. Battered and broken.
“So talk,” I croak through my suddenly dry throat, clinging on to my attitude, my last wall of self-defense.
Leaning forward, he presses his lips to the sensitive skin directly under my belly button then draws back a few inches and peers up at me. “This Thursday, I’m having day surgery on my arm and wrist here in Denver. They’re gonna go in and put some plates and screws in, nothing out of the ordinary. I’ve had this exact same surgery more times than I’d like to admit. I’ll wear a cast for about four to six weeks, and then once it comes off, I’ll start rehab. Rehabbing my shoulder from the dislocation will be the hardest part, and it normally takes a few months.”
He stops talking as he lowers his mouth, kissing just beneath the spot of the last one. The warmth of his breath trickles down between my legs and I have to force myself not to wiggle underneath him. He’s making it hard to concentrate on the seriousness of this conversation.
“Now, as you know, I’m staying with Gunner and Emmy Sue right now,” he picks up where he left off, “but I have to get the fuck out of there as soon as possible. They’re newlyweds and need their house to themselves; plus, we’re gonna want our own privacy for all of the things I have planned to do with you. So, that leaves me needing to find a place to stay somewhere around here at least for the next six months . . . or longer.”
“Around here?” I repeat, making sure I heard him correctly.
“Rhino is gonna rent my place in California and take care of it. It’s a great vacation house on Big Bear Lake that I want to keep, but not live in any longer.” Grinning, he kisses even lower, allowing his mouth to linger a couple of extra seconds. “And I hear there’s this really cool-ass chick that likes Marvel superheroes and guys who ride dirt bikes that lives around here. She may have something to do with my wanting to relocate too.”
Hissing in a jagged breath, I’m pretty sure my heart just dislodged itself and is floating around in my body. I can feel my pulse in every inch of my body.