Page 91 of Burn

Or maybe the thrill of the chase is gone and me bringing takeout was too much?

Goddamn it, I hate girl emotions.

You want to know where all this curiosity got me?

Stalking Caleb.

And by “stalking,” I mean scaling the side of a building and nearly getting arrested. Not exactly my brightest moves but when a firefighter who can get you off the way he does is involved, you tend to go to extreme measures.

So this is where I complicate my life further. As if that’s needed.

After I’m done at work, I pick up Scarlet, who had the day off. She thinks we’re going to dinner with Izzy. She thinks wrong.

“Will you help me with something tonight?” I ask once she’s in my car.

She gives me a muddled expression and then shrugs. “That depends. Does it involve flying to Pasadena and seeing Shade?”

“No, sadly, it doesn’t.”

There’s a frown forming and I know any minute she’s going to deny me, so I’m quick to add in there, “Youmightget arrested.”

I know how to play my cards with her.

“Count me in then. It’s been years since I’ve spent the night in jail.”

Scarlet’s the easy part of the plan. Convincing Scarlet to do anything illegal is easy because she has this obsession withwantingto be arrested. Not only is she in love with Shade, but she has a thing for cops too.

Then we pick up little Izzy Bizzy. Her last name isn’t Bizzy, but as far as I’m concerned, it should be.

Izzy’s outside, arguing with some guy. When she gets in my car, she all but slams the door. “Can you believe he thinks Iworkthis corner?”

Scarlet smiles. “You mean as in—”

Shamefully nodding, Izzy doesn’t let her finish. “Yep.”

“How do you feel about that?” I ask her, watching her neighbor depart. “He thinks you’re a hooker.”

“Not good.” Izzy laughs, and then a look of anger flashes in her eyes. “I cannot believe you had sex with that guy in my massage room. How doyoufeel aboutthat?”

“Actually pretty good.”

Then both laugh at me, but as I’m driving, I think about whatever it is I’m about to do next.

As we drive, I consider my plan. I wish I could slap myself sometimes before I do shit. I really do. Then maybe I would knock some sense into myself before I do things like this. But I don’t slap myself.

Izzy and Scarlet are arguing about something and the more Scarlet talks, the more I smell alcohol. “Have you been drinking?”

She hands me a water bottle from inside her purse. “Nobody’s stopping you from doing it.”

I slap it away. “Do you really put booze in water bottles?” I pull into traffic on Washington Street and try not to run over the hobos who think they own the goddamn road. “I thought Tom was joking about that when he said you carried a water bottle of vodka.”

“Don’t judge me. You’re sleeping on my couch and I have daddy issues.”

“You’ve never met your dad,” Izzy adds.

“Which is why I have daddy issues,” she points out. “Back to your problems,Mila. Where is Caleb, and why are we stalking him?”

Remember when I said there’s a reason why Scarlet is my best friend?

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