Page 30 of The Front Runner
Her head bounces back against the wall, and she exhales. “Fuck.”
“Yeah. He liked to leave the bruises where no one could see. That way he could still package her up in a fancy dress and tote her around to all his classy events. Everyone was spared the horror, except Nadia and I.” My lips roll together, itching to spill it all, hidden down low in this warm stall encompassed by the quiet munching sounds of the surrounding horses with this woman who has slowly become something like a friend. “With the age difference between us, she got stuck at home while they shipped me off to boarding school in Switzerland. She was a baby when I left. But we got summers together, I guess.” Now I know why I got the boot, and she didn’t. But I don’t feel like going there right now. “As soon as I graduated from that cesspool, I went straight to university in London. I didn’t want to go home. I was worried I’d kill him if I had to live with him again. So, I stayed. I did my degree and then moved on to the London School of Business for my MBA.”
“Did you kill him in the end?”
Not exactly. “No.”
“I would have killed him.” She nods her head succinctly, like she’s very satisfied with her conclusion. Mira Thorne is kinda dark, and I like it.
“A plane crash did that for me instead. Unfortunately, his plane crash took my mother with him.”
“Jesus. That’s depressing. How long ago was that?”
“Four years ago.”
Mira nods. “Right before you came to Ruby Creek.” She doesn’t miss a damn beat.
“Yeah. My mom grew up here. It seemed like a good way to be close to her at the time.”
“At the time?” If she’s shocked by that revelation, she doesn’t show it. She just looks at me. Her dark eyes are soft as they slide over me like she can read my mind.
“Yeah. Sometimes it feels like I have no idea what I’m doing.” I can’t hold her gaze for long. I rest my head on the wall and stare up at the warm lights above us.
“I think we all feel like that sometimes.”
I swallow audibly. She’s probably right.
“And when did Nadia move here?”
“As soon as she could legally—about a year ago. She was stuck living withhissister until she turned eighteen. Then I got her on a plane straight here. It’s been an adjustment for her. I wasn’t there enough through her most important years. I should have gone back. There’s a lot of baggage to unpack.” My free hand presses down into the rubber mat of the stall floor to ground myself. The top joints of my fingers ache with the pressure as I grasp at the flat surface. It almost hurts. But I probably deserve that.
“You feel guilty.” It’s not a question, the way she says it. She knows. It’s hard to get anything past Mira.
“Yeah.” A ragged sigh escapes me, and I run my free hand through my hair. “And I don’t even know where to begin on making it up to her.”
I start when her hand covers mine, like a warm blanket over a cold soul. Her fingers slide between mine, prying them up off the floor. Tangling together.
With one squeeze, she carries on, like we hold hands all the time. “What’s going on with school?” She sips her coffee, but I can’t tear my eyes away from her hand on mine. She has elegant hands, long fingers, but they don’t feel soft and manicured. Her nails are clean and natural, trimmed neatly, and I can feel the light callous on her palm against the top of my hand. Mira works with her hands, and I can feel the proof.
I can feel everything.
“Uhm.” I cough in an attempt to clear my throat, where my heart is currently lodged. “I told her I’d support whatever she wanted to do. I mean, she’s a nineteen-year-old woman. She went back for a couple days, but it sounds like there were a lot of cruel jokes flying around.” My teeth grind just thinking about it. “On one hand, going to school with a bunch of kids is probably really humbling. On the other hand, I’m not sure what she’ll do all day if she does the online school thing for her last few courses. I’m worried she’ll be lonely. Or worse, bored.” I groan. “God. A bored Nadia would be dangerous for everyone in a hundred-mile radius.”
Mira laughs, deep and raspy. It’s sensual. Her hand feels hot over mine. I swear I can feel her heart beating through her palm. Forcing mine to beat in time with hers.
“She’ll be fine,” she says with another gentle squeeze of my hand. “Us womenfolk are smarter and stronger than you all give us credit for.”
She means it in a joking way, but the tension between us as our eyes lock onto each other is anything but lighthearted. I’ve always been drawn to Mira, but this is torture. I feel like she’s reached right between my ribs and wrapped her delicate fingers around my lungs. Like if she wanted to, she could squeeze too hard and cut my breath off entirely.
The moment drags on and feels like it lasts forever, but with a sharp inhale, she stands and brushes off her pants. She doesn’t explain herself, just goes about checking Loki again before unhooking him and urging him to nurse with a few gentle pushes toward Farrah’s hind end. I must admit he’s starting to look more perky. Within moments, he’s latched on and feeding. At the sight, Mira’s shoulders drop on a heavy sigh, a small smile touching her lips.
This is a good sign. My heart hammers when she turns that pleased expression down on me. And suddenly, I wonder what it would be like for her to gaze at me like that from between her thighs. I wonder how low her voice would go then—how my name would sound on her lips while she comes on mine.
“Better?” I ask, veering back into reality. Because getting between Mira’s thighs is a bad idea. I’d probably never want to leave.
“A little. Too early to say,” she replies as she slides down the wall.
But this time, she sits close enough that our shoulders graze against each other.
