Page 11 of Jagged Burn
“Anna.”
She sighs.“You’ve changed.”
My chest tightens.“Yeah, well.Roofs collapsing on you tends to do that.”
“That’s not what I mean.”She steps closer.“You’re quieter now.Harder.Like you built walls around yourself.”
I clench my jaw, flipping a patty.“Maybe I did.”
“Why?”
“Why do you think?”The words snap out sharper than I intend.I glance up, instantly regretting it.She’s staring at me like she sees right through every defense I’ve ever built.
And then her gaze drops to my scars.I wait for the flinch.The pity.The quick look away.But it never comes.Instead, she reaches up, tentative, and brushes a strand of hair off my forehead, her fingers hovering near the ridged skin.My throat locks up.I should step back.I should push her hand away.But like a fucking fool, I don’t.
“You’re still you, Stefan,” she whispers.“Scars don’t change that.”
The burn in my chest is almost unbearable.I want to believe her.I want to grab onto those words and never let go.But I know better.
“You say that now.”I force a laugh.“Wait until someone stares when we’re out together.Or whispers.You’ll get sick of it.”
Her brows knit.“Or maybe I’ll get pissed and throw my drink in their face.Ever think of that?”
A laugh breaks out of me, genuine this time.“That I can believe.”
We end up eating at the counter, her stealing fries off my plate like she’s entitled.I let her.Hell, I’d give her the whole damn meal if she asked.
When the plates are empty, the air shifts again.Charged.Heavy.She’s too close, perched on the stool next to mine, her thigh naked brushing against my covered one.I can feel the warmth of her through the fabric.
“Stefan?”she murmurs.
“Yeah?”
Her hand slides over mine on the counter.Gentle.Certain.
I turn toward her, and suddenly her face is right there.Big stormy eyes.Pink lips.Bruises that make my stomach clench with rage.She should look broken, but she doesn’t.She looks fierce.Determined.
And God help me, I want her.
My body leans in before my brain can stop it.Our noses almost touch.Her breath mixes with mine.Her gaze drops to my mouth.If I kiss her now, there is no coming back.
Her lips part, an invitation, a siren calling me to her.I want to take it.I need to take it.But at the last second, I jerk back, shoving out of the stool so hard it screeches against the tile.
Her eyes widen, hurt flashing across her face.“What—”
“I can’t.”My voice is raw, scraped out of me.“Not like this.You’re vulnerable.I’m ...me.This isn’t—”
“Bullshit,” she snaps, standing too.“Don’t you dare blame me for your fear.”
Her words slice straight through me.I can’t argue because she’s right.I’m terrified.Not of her.Of myself.Of letting her in, then watching her regret it.
“Anna...”I rake a hand through my hair, desperate for air.“You don’t understand.”
Her chin tilts stubbornly.“Then make me.”
I want to.Christ, I want to.But all I can see is my reflection in her eyes, scarred and jagged and not enough.So, I do the only thing I know how.I walk away.
I hear her curse under her breath as I retreat down the hall.But her voice follows, sharp as glass.“You can keep running, Stefan.But you can’t outrun me.”
