Page 128 of Burn

Over us?

Fuck.

Fuck!

His black truck comes into view, and I dig my heels into the snow-covered parking lot.

Fuck this.

He takes another step, and I release his hand and cross my arms over my chest. It’s so cold, but my body shakesfor an entirely different reason as my anxiety skyrockets over his bizarre, detached behavior.

He turns to look over his shoulder at me, brows pushed together. “Come on, Lex. It’s freezing.”

“What the fuck is going on?” I demand.

“We can talk about it in the truck. Come on.” He takes another step toward the truck, but I refuse to move.

“Fuck that. I’m not moving a fucking inch until you tell me why you’re being so weird.”

My pulse thuds in my ears, and I feel my palms start to sweat.

“Please, Lex,” he says in a low voice. “Get in the truck.”

“Absolutely fucking not.”

I’m defiance and indignation rolled into a fiery little ball. He sighs and turns away, continuing to the truck.

This mother fucker.

I don’t move a muscle. I stand there, body locked tight, fire surging under my skin. I watch him load my suitcase into the back of the truck, and when he turns around, he pauses. We stare at each other across the distance, and when he tucks his hands into his pockets, drops his gaze to the ground, and slowly walks back to me with his shoulder curled inward, my stomach plummets.

No.

It may have taken him a few seconds or a few hours to close the gap. I feel the blood drain from my face, and tears prick at the back of my eyes.

No. No. No.

Don’t do this.

When he’s inches away, it takes him a few extra breaths to slowly lift his eyes to mine. They flick back and forth, searching my eyes, before falling again.

I can’t breathe.

I want to scream at him, beg him not to do this, ask him what the fuck went wrong, but I’m speechless. My brain and mouth are no longer connected, and I just stare at him, desperately trying not to cry.

Each breath is stuttered, and I’m not getting enough oxygen to my brain.

Breathe, Lex.

What the fuck will I do without him?

His deep voice is thick with emotion when he finally speaks. “You know,” he starts, taking a deep breath. Bracing himself for the brutal blow he’s about to deliver. “Some moments etch themselves into your memory. You might not realize it in the actual moment, but they never leave.”

What the fuck is he saying?

Did he reconnect with an ex?

“I was sitting in the condo. You were on the balcony talking to Lane or Blake on the phone. It was warm out — I know this because the glass door was open, and the breeze was blowing the smell of your perfume through the screen door — and you started to laugh. Not that quiet chuckle you do, but the one when you really laugh and your whole face changes. It must have been in the evening, because the sun was shining on you. It was this golden color, and you looked at me, this huge smile across your lips, and I knew you were talking about me withthatsmile on your face.” He pauses to take a deep, uneven breath.

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