3 chapters posted today. Chapters 23, 24, 25. You are reading chapter 24.

Kara

"What would you like to know, Kara?" He took a step closer. "That I can't stop thinking about you? That I haven't stopped wanting the fuck out of you everyday? Right now, I can't stop thinking about what you look like under that dress."

My breath caught in my throat.

"Kara!" Dylan yelled as he made a ruckus at the front door. "I saw your car out front. You here?"

I stepped away quickly from Cameron, feeling like I was caught doing something I shouldn't be doing.

Then why do you feel excited?

His eyes studied me. He didn't move.

"Yes!" I croaked. "I'm here."

"Trip went on a trip. Now Trip's back from his trip," Dylan sang, dissolving in giggles at his own words, still unaware that I wasn't alone in the house. "I saw him downtown. He heard about the fire and wanted to know if you're okay." There was a loud thud as his shoes and backpack hit the floor. "He followed us home and he—"

"You better set your stinking shoes outside the door," I warned, not really absorbing everything he was saying, "or your ability to sire children will be no more."

"—should be here soon. Don't you check your phone?" I heard the door open as he threw his shoes outside. "I called you ten thousand times!"

There was a loud zip as he opened his backpack, sounds of rustling and more thudding as he emptied a lot of it out to search for something. "Thomas picked me up today so I didn't have to take the bus. Remember I told you after the accident I couldn't really drive by myself anymore? Well, um, I can tell you now because I've gotten so much better!" Another zip, but this time I could hear the struggle as he tried to close it. "Thomas has been helping me get used to driving again. We're supposed to—"

Dylan stopped as soon as he spotted Cameron. There was a look of misery in my brother's eyes before he lowered and turned his head away. His hands were clenched into fists at his sides.

My heart ached watching them. Their interactions had been stilted. One of these days I had to sit Dylan down for a heart to heart. There had been no time for that too.

"Hey, Dylan," Cameron said. He reached for the glass in my hand, filled it with cold water from the fridge, and gave it to me. "Drink."

I glared at him. I still didn't like being told what to do. In response, he gently guided my hand up so that the glass touched my lips. I drank.

"Have you eaten today?" he asked.

I swallowed the lump in my throat. Having him in front of me, taking caring of me once again, knowing my habits and what to do to make me respond, what to ask... felt painful.

"Don't worry about it," I said defensively. "I already ate."

He looked at me dubiously. It had been a very busy day. Only when he asked me did I remember I hadn't eaten or drank anything all day but coffee.

There was a fire forming and rising inside my heart, but every time I tried to unleash it, it buried itself even deeper, became even bigger. I found myself reacting differently, thinking differently, or not thinking at all. And I knew why.

After the night of the fire, I put my feelings on pause. I hadn't had time to process my thoughts and emotions. Everything kept piling up on top, including the myriad of conflicting feelings I felt today when I was alone with him.

I had become Dylan's backpack. I just kept dumping things inside until I couldn't put anything more and things started to fall apart. I had to pull each item one by one, discard, keep, and organize so I could lighten the load.

Why haven't you? What are you afraid of?

I'm not going there right now.

Cameron reached for the container where I stacked the sandwiches. "Thanks for making these. I'll deliver them to the crew."

I watched him walk toward Dylan, placed his other hand on my brother's shoulder and squeezed. Without a word to each other, Cameron stepped outside.

Dylan was still looking at his feet.

"Dyl—" I started but was interrupted by a knock on the door.

Wow, was it interrupt-Kara's-fucking-day today or what?

"I'll go change," Dylan said and stomped to his room.

When I looked over, it was Thomas. "Hi, Kar! Can you come out here for a second?"

I let out a sigh and joined him outside.

"Hey, Thomas." Grateful for his presence, I gave him a hug.

"I know you guys don't park in front of your house," he said, motioning to his car, "but I didn't want to park in the shop's lot. I might block the crew's equipment. Okay if I park here?"

"I did. Don't worry, it's fine. You look good."

He looked considerably better than the last time I saw him. He said he'd lost his direction for a while, but he looked relaxed now. The turmoil I saw on his face was gone.

"Thanks." He sent me a bright smile. "I'm going back to Toronto soon."

I smiled back. "Ending your hiatus?"

"I decided to go back to medical school."

"Good for you." I gave him another hug. "How are you?"

"Better. It got pretty dark, and I needed a break from it all, align my priorities, rediscover my goals. I lost sight for a moment, and I just kept praying and praying." He looked up to the sky, closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When he looked at me again, his eyes were twinkling. "I needed to learn patience and a lot of it. In God's time and not mine."

"In God's time and not mine," I repeated, agreeing wholeheartedly. "You had to go through it."

He nodded, looked at me pensively. "I had to go through it or I wouldn't be as strong as I am, standing in front of you now. I could've just given up easily, but I think it would've haunted me for the rest of my life if I did. Even if I don't succeed, I want to know that I tried my best. Makes it easier to live with myself that way." Now he smiled, and it was light. "Enough about me."

"I understand. Let me know if I can do anything for you." I patted his shoulder. "Thanks for helping Dylan," I said sincerely. "I mean it."

"Dylan helped me too. He's so sure of what he wants to do. He inspired me. He wants to expand your garage into a body shop eventually. Rebuild classic trucks. Says he's saving money for it. So, I thought, what the hell am I doing with my life? I want to do something meaningful. The answer was in front of me all along. I don't know why I kept fighting it. It only brought me heartbreak to have kept denying myself."

Something in his words made me lightheaded, made my heart ache a little bit more. I shook it off. "That's medical school for you."

"That's medical school for me," he agreed. His eyes shone with curiosity. "And what's for you?"

I leaned against the railing, ignoring the flutter in my belly at his question. "I'll let you know once I figure it out."

"Kara..." he hesitated. "Dylan's doing great. Really. I wonder if he told you about—"

"Bruh. I thought you left." Dylan pushed the front door open. "It's, like, going to be too dark soon to drive. My hair's, like, turning white here."

Thomas smiled at him. "Patience is a virtue, Dylan. Learn more of it and you'd be less frustrated about a lot of things, okay?"

"Okay."

"Your shirt's inside out," I pointed out.

"Yikes."

I didn't even bother sighing as Dylan fixed his shirt. I looked at Thomas meaningfully, telling him silently that we'd talk again soon.

"I need to know you can survive out there, Dylan," I said, fixing the wrinkled collar of his shirt. There would be time later to talk with him. "Did you bring your wallet? You know that tiny square thing where you keep your license and money?"

"Geez, Kara. Of course, I did. Do you think I'm a child?" He patted his back pockets. Panic. Front pockets. More panic.

This time I let out a loud sigh, marched to his room, found his wallet under the clothes on his bed.

"I'll die without you, Kar. Please don't leave me."

"I'll sell you first chance I get. You didn't forget your brain at least, did you?"

"I got it in my pocket."

"Good. Have fun and be careful out there." I turned to Thomas. "You sure you want to hang out with this baboon?"

"Ha-ha."

"Make sure you sign a waiver," I told him.

Dylan pouted. "Ha-ha times two to infinity and beyond. Bye, Kar."

When they left, I went back inside and laid down on the couch for a moment, wishing I'd just fall asleep so I could shut down for a while, but my brain was too busy. I was too keyed up. Reaching for my phone, I checked my messages and jerked right up.

Trip: Hi beautiful. I'm back in town. Heard about the fire from Dylan. Wanna know if you're okay. Have coffee with me?

Another message.

Trip: I'm in front of your shop.

"Damnit."

Already feeling depleted, I took a moment to close my eyes, then rose and was out the door. After the fire, friends and family would often drop by to check on us. I was grateful for their concern, but days like today, I wish I could just send a mass email to everyone that we were doing great and there was no need to drop by.

But they meant well, and I felt like a selfish ungrateful brat, so, shaking off the incoming dark mood, I marched to the shop.

"Sumbitchmotherfuck!"

I was distracted by my thoughts and not looking where I was going. I didn't notice until it was too late that I had trodden on a patch of slippery ground. The wet mud pulled on stickily at my shoes, like tiny hands desperately trying to keep me, and the strap came off. I kept struggling to stay upright. Before I could land on my ass, strong hands steadied me.

Blue eyes met mine.

Cameron scowled at my shoes, then pulled me so that I was on dry ground. "Why are you wearing high heels?"

"I'm wearing these for Sponge Bob's tea party. Now back off, Cam. What are you doing here anyway?"

"Returning the container. The crew enjoyed the sandwiches. They want me to tell you that you're awesome."

Instead of doing what I asked, he placed the container on the ground and crouched in front of me.

"You have mud all over your shoes."

"Of course, I have mud all over my shoes. It gives me superpowers. Didn't you know that? I don't need you to—"

In response, he reached for my wrists, slowly placed my hands on his shoulders.

"I'm going to take my time," he said, voice low.

I bit my lip as I stared at his dark head. The feel of his skin beneath his shirt was warm, the muscles underneath strong and hard. I closed my eyes. Touching him brought a silvery sliding sensation down my back, twirling, teasing, tempting. Forgetting my mind for a moment, giving in to the irresistible temptation, I smoothed my forefinger against the skin of his neck. Just a second, just a touch. Shocked at my actions, I withdrew.

His whole body tensed. The cords of muscles on his neck stood out. I saw him swallow, my eyes following the long line of his throat to the sharpness of his jaw. Then I met his eyes. They were direct and searching.

"Hold on to me."

He encircled my calf around his fingers, gently signalled me to lift my foot. I inhaled sharply at the contact but did as he asked. He took off my shoe, placed my foot on his knee. From his back pocket, he pulled a clean rag and wiped the traces of mud on my foot. When he was done, he wiped my shoe and helped me put it on.

He placed the pad of his finger on my other calf. "Give it to me," he said quietly.

My fingers dug on his shirt. I lifted my foot and he gave it the same attention.

Memories of the first time I picked him up from my car bombarded my head. At the time, I had opened the car windows and was shivering from the cold. He'd offered his sweater to me and helped me get into it with the same care he was giving to me now.

"Can I touch you?" he'd asked.

Even then I had a hard time resisting him. Now, I found it close to impossible. But I could still do it.

Steel, baby. You are made of steel.

From his position, he lifted his head and looked up at me. The attraction between us had never been a question. I could feel the power of his desire he had for me in his eyes, in his breathing, in his touch. Or maybe that was mine.

"Done," he said.

"The shoe fits," I said breathlessly, "but I'm not Cinderella after all."

"No, you're not. You're Kara," he said with a secret smile on his lips. "And I don't want anyone else."

If that came from anyone else, I would have doubted their sincerity. But it was Cameron. He doesn't say anything just for the sake of saying it.

If it took a moment longer for me to remove my hands on his shoulders, that didn't mean anything. I straightened.

"I better go." My throat felt tight. "Thanks for..." I motioned uselessly with my hands because... he'd done a lot for my family. For me. I didn't even know where to start thanking him.

He nodded but didn't say a word.

Feeling out of sorts from Cameron's undivided attention, I marched straight to the shop front. I could feel his eyes watching me but I didn't turn around.

I found Trip watching the crew installing the front bay windows. He looked handsome in a dress shirt, slacks, and shiny black shoes. His hair was dishevelled and thick as chocolate cake batter. He smelled of cologne—light and warm.

"Hi, Trip."

"Kara!" His eyes filled with concern as they scanned my face. "I heard about the fire. Shit. Are you okay?"

"The doctor said I need new lungs. Other than that—"

"What the—"

"Just kidding. Everyone is safe. Vlad got a minor injury, but he's doing well now. What are you doing here? You could've just phoned."

He placed his hands in his pockets, looking nervous. "I just got back from a business trip this morning, but I have to leave again for another one tonight. I was hoping I could take you out for coffee."

The way he was looking at me made it obvious to me now. He liked me. I should've noticed the signs back at Adam's Bridge and even when he drove me home that night, he'd said he'd like to know me better. But I thought he meant as friends, that he wanted to hangout with me and the boys again, like in high school.

If that were the case, I needed to tell him that I couldn't date him. It was unfair for him if I let it keep going. Trip was my friend.

But what if he just really wanted to find out how I was doing? My radar on these things was broken. It would be embarrassing if I was wrong.

"I have time, but I can't stay long," I said. "There's a coffee shop a couple of blocks away. Want to take a walk there?"

"I'll take whatever I can get."

The coffee shop was small but cute and trendy. Students occupied most of the round, sky blue tables, their faces buried in their laptops. It smelled of freshly baked bread, sugary donuts, and the delicious aroma of coffee.

We got our order and snagged a seat by the window.

"Are you sure you don't want to order anything else?" Trip asked. "Just iced coffee?"

"I'm not very hungry."

He nodded. "Can you tell me what happened? How the fire started?"

I paused for a moment, breathed deeply then said, "Some kids got paid to set our shop on fire."

"What the fuck?"

"My friend who was working with me at the time was the target. A jealous psycho who was after her fiancé. Anyway. No one was seriously hurt. She's locked up now. Makes me want to throw up talking about it again, but that's the gist of it," I explained, desperate to move on from the topic.

My stomach began to churn thinking and talking about it, made bile rise up my throat. Everyone was safe now. No one was seriously hurt. And the one responsible for it was locked up in a mental institution. I had to keep reminding myself that or I'd go apeshit. Trip must've noticed because he changed the topic and started talking about his business trip.

"Alberta was amazing," he went on. "I'd like to visit again. I have to be in Quebec tonight, but I wanted to stop by home and see you."

"Why?"

"Kara, I—" he hesitated, then stopped.

Feeling anxious, I took a sip of my iced coffee and choked. And nearly sprayed Trip on the face when I looked up from the jangle of bells on the entrance door.

Cameron Jeremiah Saint Laurent strode in, eyes locked on me instantly.

3 chapters posted today. Chapters 23, 24, 25. You are at the end of chapter 24.