Page 90 of Smoke and Fire
Questions lay there.
Yesterday had been a vague blur. A weird conundrum. Bastian and I had parted at the end of our previous day with some strangeness between us. Both of us seemed to feel it, like the end of an intense time when we both needed space to think.
That didn’t bother me much. I’d wanted some time to process through everything I’d witnessed, and lunch with him had been easy going despite the day.
His ditched attempt to see me yesterdaydidbother me, however. Clearly, he’d gotten into his own head.
Butwhy?
What did it mean?
Did I push him too hard? I’d come at him with pure, observant truth. Maybe he hadn’t been ready for it. Pele told me all the time I came on too strong when I felt like I was right. Maybe my cousin had wisdom I didn’t.
Bastian remained an utter puzzle to me. Reading the latest Jess release didn’t help matters. Knowing him better now, though I didn’t know the details of his non-fire-affected life super well, I saw him laid out in the words.
Love interests with lingering maladies. Grouchy and imperfect, often broody males. The quiet way he spoke, normally saying so little, put him at odds with his chattering protagonists that bubbled full of life.
Katrina lay amidst the maze of problems. Was she still around? She’d indicated a likelihood that she’d be here for a few more days, but doing what? It was entirely possible she’d stationed herself at the shop yesterday while Lizbeth ran the place. Katrina could have staked out looking for Jess all day . . . but I doubted it.
Something else brewed there.
Regardless, I resolved to have patience with Bastian. He’d requested as much, anyway, which all but affirmed my suspicion that he felt he’d been a littletooopen with me. Freaked him out, I bet.
The weight of what he bore for his family meant he needed a friend. I would willingly be that friend for him, although I couldn't deny that I felt something for Bastian. Meeting his family and seeing his burning, compassionate core had dropped me hard into new feelings.
My raging, school-girl-age twitterpation developed into something that looked a lot more raw and real. Admiration and shock and amazement.
The undeniable urge to be part of his world couldn't be denied.
The jingling bells on the door yanked my thoughts back to the store. I turned around mid-yawn, then stopped completely. Katrina stood there, looking oddlynotlike Lolo. Instead of wild outfits, she had a calm pair of jeans, black shirt, and backpack slung over one shoulder. Her dreadlocks were pulled away from her face, which had no eccentric makeup today.
"Hey," I said.
She smiled. "Hey."
Sensing something different about her, I carefully asked, "Usual today?"
"Nah." She set her computer bag on the table nearest the counter, then leaned back against it. She studied me, her gaze thoughtful. The acrid scent of forest fire swirled into the shop with her. It dried out my throat and made my already nervous heart beat a little harder.
"Everything all right?" I asked. My gaze darted to the clock. 6:05. I'd been puttering around, lost in my own thoughts, for hours.
"Would you mind if I asked you a few questions?" she asked.
I shrugged, even though alarm bells pealed through my mind.
"Sure."
On the counter next to me, my phone buzzed again. I ignored it, even though two rapid-succession vibrations followed. She glanced at it, then to me. Her expression narrowed further.
"You know Jess, don't you?"
Accusation hardened her tone. I lifted one eyebrow.
"What?"
"Jess. I know she's here and I think you know her."
Shock rendered me totally speechless. "But . . . I . . . why do you think that?"
