Page 81 of Burn


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She leans in to kiss me, and she tastes like apples and cinnamon, whiskey, and maple. I want to take her back to bed and feast more on her body, but instead, I clear the plates away and put them in the kitchen, then return to the sofa.

“Okay, let’s talk.” I suddenly feel oddly formal.

She holds the whiskey glass in both hands. “Us. This. It’s a shock, honestly, especially after our past. I thought we should be adults and talk. You’re twenty-eight, and I’m thirty-one, and well, I kind of want to know if this is a temporary fling or what.”

She can’t look me in the eye when she talks, and I’m torn over whether I should get on my knees and pour out the contents of my heart, or if I should show her how I feel with sex.

Why can’t I tell her how I feel? I’m going to have to try, even if emotions don’t come easy to me. This is too important to screw up. “What do you want this to be?”

I don’t like the way she licks her lips nervously and hesitates to answer the question.

Chapter Thirty-Five

LILY

His question hangs in the air.

“I don’t know.” I draw out my words.

A shadow crosses his face.

“I feel bad about how we ended.” It’s difficult for me to admit that.

Another nod, and a glance up at the ceiling. Oh great. The uncommunicative Max has taken over. The Iceman.

“I feel the same way,” he finally says.

“I panicked, and I ran. I shouldn’t have. I regret it.” This is the first time I’ve said that aloud to anyone but my mother, and Max is staring at me, unblinking.

“Although I love the sport itself, I don’t like a lot of the lifestyle. The incessant travel, the showiness, the parties. It’s torture for me. Don’t like the spotlight. Hate the media attention. Still do. But I really, really, really loved having you in my life. Being with you these past several days have made me want more of you, and maybe I shouldn’t say this, but I miss you. Now that I’m older and more secure”—I pause here, because I’m still not sure I’m more secure, but I’m already well into my monologue—“I think I can handle the rest because I know it comes with the goodness of you.”

He’s still not blinking, just staring at me from the other end of the sofa. The luxurious log cabin now seems altogether too airy and spacious, and the only sound is the tick of a rustic cuckoo clock on the wall.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

Ten ticks go by, an interminable amount of time.

I’ve said the wrong thing. I’ve opened myself up to a man who only wants sex. Max is no longer the man I once knew, the guy I fell for. He’s changed. The years of Formula World and easy sex and women available at the snap of a finger have changed him irreparably.

“You don’t feel the same, do you?” I whisper. Humiliation burns in my stomach, mixing with the sweetness of the apple pancake and the bitterness of the whiskey.

“Lily,” he says, his voice cracking. “I—”

“I’m sorry. Sorry to have brought this up. It’s too soon, too fast.” I start to rise and he grabs my wrist.

“Sit,” he commands, while gently tugging me next to him.

I’m on the verge of tears. I revealed too much, took too much of a chance. He releases his grip on my wrist and leans forward, his palms against his cheeks. This is going far worse than I expected, and I can barely breathe.

“Forget I said anything, okay?” My mind is already spinning to tomorrow morning. I’ll get a car and head to the team hotel. Maybe I still could tonight, since it’s not that late . . .

“Lily.”

“Seriously, ignore me. I’m in a mood. I shouldn’t burden you with my emotions. I’m all over the place because of my father and all the travel and my recent job situation and—”

“Lily.” His tone is sharper than I’ve ever heard, but my mind is racing a million miles a second. “I love you. I’ve always loved you. It’s time I tell you that. I never did before, and I might not get another chance to say the words.”

“And I don’t know what I’m doing with my life and . . . wait, what?” His words begin to sink in, dissolving the humiliation and fear.

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