Page 33 of Burn It Down

He’s picking at the label on the beer bottle, looking at it instead of me now. “Yeah.”

I shrug, not really wanting to think about those days at all. “Sometimes.” I hope my voice sounds more casual out loud than it does in my head. “It’s a small town, and not many people actually moved away. The ones who did live within an hour of here.”

I’m sure he already knew that, but he still looks stricken with sadness. “Do they...” He shakes his head and clears his throat. I let him finish, though, because I’m not sure what he’s trying to ask. “Do they still bother you?”

Ah. He’s worried that I have current bullies.I smile at him, hoping to relieve him of that particular worry. “Nah, the ones Ido see are married with kids. They’ve grown up over the years. Matured.” It pains me to say that, but it’s the truth. I’m not sure if they even recognized me at first when I came back to town—but when they did, they were fine.

The thing that pisses me off the most is it defined so much of my life. And whether I want to admit it or not, it did. It shaped me. And they go on about their life like nothing happened.

“Shitheads.”

I let out a surprised laugh at that but don’t argue. “They are, but it doesn’t matter. It was high school. Almost a decade ago.”

“Doesn’t mean it doesn’t still hurt.” He’s being awfully serious, and it makes me squirm in my seat.

“I’m fine.” I go to my old defense. Protecting myself from those memories is the only thing that had me coming back here. That keeps me here. I can’t think about the hell I went through as I walked through the halls of the school.

Kade puts his beer down on the side table and then shocks me stupid when he scoots over until our thighs are almost touching. I stupidly breathe him in, taking in that intoxicating scent that makes me weak and look into his beautiful eyes. “It’s okay to not be okay. You know that, right?”

“Really? You’re a fireman, not a therapist, Kade.” I instantly feel bad for snapping at him, even if I kept my voice relatively tame, but he doesn’t blink.

“I am, but I’ve seen pain and suffering. I know it still hurts, and you don’t have to pretend with me.”

Goddamn him.“Why do you need to talk about this? We’re just having beers and relaxing, and you’re like... hey, let’s bring up some trauma.” I eye him, not letting him look away and not pulling my gaze off him. I want to know.

“Because I should have seen it then, and I didn’t. And because I want to be friends, and I don’t know if we can be with this shit just hanging there between us.”

I think my jaw may actually touch the floor. I thought we’d closed on this. I realized I was wrong about him, and we’ve talked about some really serious subjects... I didn’t think this would ever come back up, and it’s putting me on edge. “It wasn’t your fault, Kade. I wasn’t your responsibility, and it was wrong to expect you to be a white knight.”

I get nervous when he’s quiet for far too long. “Did you think I would be though?”

“What?” I look at him, my eyes widening. “No,” I say quickly because okay, that’s really embarrassing. I put my beer down on the table and start to get off the couch—I need to put some space between our bodies. But before I can, his hand reaches out and wraps around my bicep, holding me there.

“Did you?”

“Kade...” I say his name quietly, not sure how we got here. This was just supposed to be some innocent fun. Just hanging out with my high school crush. Maybe letting it fuel some fantasies I knew would never come true but felt harmless.

But with his strong hand clinging to my arm, his skin brushing over the bare skin under the sleeve of my t-shirt—it’s too much. The spark is undeniable, and it’s not fair that it’s one-sided. It’s not fair of him to look at me this way—with so much intensity, I feel like I could burst into flames.

“Tell me.” I’m trapped in the trance of his eyes—those beautiful eyes I’d convince myself truly saw me—that could feel my suffering. But the truth is he didn’t. He had no idea how badly I was hurting, and even if he swears he remembers me, that doesn’t mean I meant anything to him. I can’t fall into this.

I can’t now believe the things I wanted to then—that he would somehow see me. That he would be the one to stand up and say something. It wasn’t his job to do that. “Don’t do this,” I say weakly.

“Tell me,” he repeats.

I want to pull away from him—I know he’d let me if I made any move to do so—but I can’t seem to do it. “I thought I saw something in you. I spent a lot of time thinking...” I swallow hard and notice his eyes move to my throat briefly before moving back to my eyes. “I thought maybe you saw me. Saw what they were doing and you’d say something.”

He looks full of regret, and that’s not what I want, so before he can say anything else, I quickly add, “But it wasn’t your job to do that. It wasn’t up to you, Kade. I was just as capable of saying something, and I didn’t. I let fear cripple me. I tried to just blend into the walls and pray they’d find something else to occupy them.”

“That didn’t work though,” he states. No question.

I shake my head. “But it’s still not on you.”

“I did see you, Spencer.” I open my mouth to argue, but he lets my bicep go, stunning me when his hand moves to my mouth, placing two fingers over my lips to silence me. And unfortunately, my brain goes to the fact his fingers are on my lips and not that we’re having a serious conversation. I want to bring his fingers into my mouth—lick them, drag my tongue over each digit, and make him squirm for once—but thankfully, I gain control of that errant thought and remain perfectly still. “I saw you. I know you don’t believe me, but I saw you.”

I start to shake my head but stop myself, and he drops his hand—his eyes remaining on my lips. “You don’t have to lie to me. I know you think I was brave—which is, quite frankly, insane. I was scared every day.”

“But you kept your head up. You think you shrunk into the walls, but you didn’t. I remember you, Spencer. You were brave. I was the coward. I didn’t want to see what was going on. I missed it, and I’m sorry.”

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