Page 143 of Burning For You

“I am,” she sniffled. “I should have walked away weeks ago.”

“Should haves mean nothing now. And you don’t know that it would have turned out any differently. You do what you do best.”

“What’s that? Run?”

Her mother pushed her back, a soft smile on her face. “You don’t run away, Skye. You take the time you need to gather yourself. I’ve always known that and let you do it.”

“So I’ve been gathering myself for over a decade?” she asked drily.

This was news to her. Shouldn’t she know those things about herself?

“Some things take longer than others. Some people take longer. The time was right, and you returned. When the time is right, you’ll be able to take the next step with this.”

“Time is running out now,” she said.

Or she wanted it to.

“No one is pushing you to move faster.”

She snorted. “Oh, I think someone is. I just don’t know who the asshole is.”

“That’s the spirit.” Her mother wiped a tear from her cheek. “You just keep that attitude. It will take you far.”

She tilted her head. It didn’t seem like the time, but she was going to do it anyway. She was going to have a mother-daughter talk she’d never had in her life.

“I love Ash.”

“I know, honey. I think you’ve been sweet on him for years. We know he’s been on you.”

“How does someone carry that for so long?”

“Because he always knew that things take time. That you took time. And the best things in life would be there if you just waited long enough.”

36

COMFORT AND HUGS

“Am I interrupting you?” Brenna asked the next morning.

Maybe she jumped out of her skin when the buzzer went off five minutes ago.

She’d been in her apartment alone for two hours.

Ash had spent the night, he’d held her in his arms and she let him.

That alone said how messed up she was in the head.

That she was craving that kind of contact all night.

The protection she never felt she’d gotten and so desperately wanted.

“I’m just working,” she said. “I could use the distraction.”

Because her job was on the boring side.

Maybe that was part of her problem.

She loved to write. Loved to read. She wanted to put her own story on the pages in front of her and just stalled.