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Torture.
Leave the only home he’d ever known, or stay and burn from the inside out.
“I think you made the right choice.”
“Everything I had thought my life would be didn’t happen. No plan came to fruition. No dream. It wasn’t my path, and something inside of me broke letting that go. I changed so much in that first year.”
“So did Cadence. So did Gunner. So did I. So did everyone,” she murmured.
“Yeah.” His shoulders sagged. “Knowing that doesn’t make it any easier being here. The longer I’m here, the more it feels like the goodbye will hurt again.”
“Sometimes hurting is a good reminder that you are still alive.”
The color in his eyes darkened, and a strange smile crooked the very corner of his lips. “You’re interesting, Jenna.”
“You have no idea,” she said cheekily.
“Mmm. Do you know what I did while I was waiting for you to come back here?”
“You definitely didn’t spend your time showering, or binding your ribs, or doing any kind of basic first aid.”
A laugh huffed from him and he pushed off the doorframe with a grunt. “Don’t make me laugh. It hurts like hell.” He swatted a moth out the door and closed it, then approached her slowly and sank down onto the couch beside her. “I looked you up on the good old internet. I looked up Falco Flatbeds.”
Her eyes flew wide. “Aaaand? What did you think of my website?”
He rolled his head until he faced her, and his eyes were glowing bright again as he said, “Do you know how fuckin’ hot that picture on the home page is?”
She bit her lip and lowered her gaze to hide her smile. She knew the picture he was talking about. In it, she stood splay-legged, clad in fire-proof coveralls. She’d unzipped them halfway, and shrugged out of the sleeves until they hung down at her hips. She wore a cherry-red tank top underneath, and her arms were covered in streaks of ash. She wore the welders mask, but it had been pushed back, and she stared at the camera with her glowing silver eyes, and damp waves of hair gracing her shoulders. She held an unlit welding torch in one hand, and her other hand rested on a flatbed she’d been working on.
“I saved it,” he admitted.
She giggled. “I have a different shop now.”
“I know. I found it off in the woods. I found your nest too.”
The smile fell from her face. “What?”
“Why are you nesting, Jenna?”
Mortified, she stood and busied herself with picking up his tossed clothes and folding them neatly.
“I’ll wait. There’s no rush. You can think about it for a while before you answer.”
“There’s nothing to talk about,” she said softly. “Nesting is personal.”
“You lined it with your feathers.”
“Did you climb my tree?” she demanded angrily. She stood, heat creeping up her neck.
“I didn’t have to. I could see it fine from where I was, and the wind had dislodged some of the lining. Why are you nesting, Jenna?”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “I think I should go. It’s very late and I’m tired.”
He nodded, but she didn’t miss the disappointment in his eyes. “Run if you like. I do the same thing sometimes.”
She had been running straight for the door, but his words pissed her off. “I’m not running, Lucas. I just don’t owe you anything!”
“Are you pregnant?”
