Burn for You (Flirting with Forever Book 3)

by Amanda Bailey

  “Well, good. That was the idea. And a little change of pace toward the end of the year is always nice, too.”

  “It is. It breaks up the monotony of being in class all day. Thank you for helping put it together. Da—Mr. Madero told me you did a lot of the organizing.”

  My mind goes to two places after what she’s just said. First, it’s adorable how she tries to make sure she calls her brother Mr. Madero when she’s at school or school functions. I can tell by the way she talks about him they really are close despite their age difference. But second, he’s been talking to her about me, telling her that I was responsible for helping put this together? That sneak knows how much effort I put in, just to slide in and ride on my coattails. At least he’s honest about it. Well, he’s honest with everyone but me. I slide a glance back over at his sister and cock my eyebrow at her in question. “He told you that?”

  “Yeah. He said he was just tagging along for the fun of it.”

  I snort and laugh a little. “The fun of it … well, if you must know, I kind of tagged along, too. Ms. Beckett and Mr. Rivers are responsible for coming up with the idea and getting the tickets. Though, I did take over collecting permissions slips and money. And, of course, your brother helped with the activity.” I wink at her conspiratorially. “I’m glad for the quiet on the way home. That was a brilliant move on his part.”

  “He’s pretty smart when he wants to be, but don’t tell him I said that.” She grins at first, but then her face falls. Her hands twist together in her lap and she looks down at them for a second before lifting her head and locking eyes with me. “He thinks you don’t like him, you know.”

  Her soft brown eyes are inquisitive, and I maintain her gaze. “He actually said that?” I chew on the corner of my lip, wondering if he directly told her or if she’s just gathering information based on things he’s said.

  “Sort of. He said you weren’t really happy with him. He didn’t tell me why.” She shrugs with a small smile. “He thinks his kid sister doesn’t know much of anything important.”

  “I see. But you’re going to be a senior soon, and then you’ll be off to college. It goes fast. I’m sure it makes him nervous that you’ll be all grown up.”

  Her voice is quiet as she murmurs, “Maybe.” She seems a little down thinking about it, but I’m not sure why.

  I blow out a breath, trying to come up with something that most juniors are thinking about now. “Hey, what colleges are you applying to? Are you planning to do any visits over the summer?”

  She freezes. “Oh. Um. I don’t really think so.”

  My eyes dart to hers. “What do you mean? You aren’t going to visit or you aren’t going to apply at all?”

  She presses her lips together, her expression grim. “I probably won’t apply. I just don’t know how we’d manage it.”

  “Oh.”

  Elena shrugs. “It’s okay. I’ll figure something out. I kind of thought maybe I’d take a year off and work, then maybe go? I’m not sure.”

  I suck in a breath. I don’t know who I am to give Damon’s sister advice, but it seems like she could use some. “You can apply and then defer a year if you want to, you know that, right? Take a gap year.”

  “Yes. I’m just not sure I’ll go at all.”

  My heart sinks at her response. “Do you want to? You’re such a good student, I just—”

  Quietly, she whispers, “I do want to. I just don’t think we can afford it. I feel terrible wanting to go.”

  I blink a few times. “Oh.” I guess I hadn’t realized. Hmm. Well, shit. I can feel myself totally about to overstep. And here I go … “You know there are scholarships, right? You could also potentially get a grant, discuss financial aid … There are work-study programs. Um, you can do the first two years at a smaller college like Roxford. You could talk to Mr. Rivers about that. He attends there. Or, as a last resort, a student loan. Those aren’t probably the best idea, though.”

  “It just seems like an awful lot to figure out.”

  “Maybe it would be worth talking to Ms. Porter about it? She’s the guidance counselor for the senior class next year.”

  “I guess I could talk to her. Maybe she’d be able to steer me in the right direction.” Elena tilts her head to the side, looking at me curiously. “I see why he likes you.” And before I can even allow my mouth to drop open in shock, she’s out of the seat and hurrying back to hers.

  The pieces of the puzzle that is Damon Madero are beginning to fall into place.

  Chapter 21

  Damon

  I’ve just finished with Frank and have wandered up to the front desk when the phone rings there. Not seeing our receptionist anywhere in sight, I grab the phone. “Newberry Gym.”

  “Oh, hey, is this Damon?”

  “Yep.”

  “It’s Susan. I really hate to do this so close to class time, but I’m home with my puking daughter. My barre class is supposed to start in ten minutes, and I have to cancel. Can you tell the ladies what’s happened and offer my apologies, and tell them hopefully I’ll see them next week? I don’t want to bring our germs to class.”

  Piper’s barre class. I clear my throat. “Yeah, sure. I’ll let them know.”

  “Thanks so much.”

  “Sure. And I hope Macy is feeling better soon.”

  After I hang up with Susan, I turn around and see Madison and Quinn come in the door, followed by none other than Piper. As they approach, I give them an apologetic smile. “Sorry, ladies, barre class was just canceled.”

  Madison frowns. “Oh, no. Why?”

  “Puke. Apparently, Susan’s youngest is sick.”

  All three women make yuck faces. Gotta say, I can’t argue with them. As teachers, we come into contact with plenty of germs, but there’s no need to push our luck.

  “Well, we don’t want any part of that.” Quinn chuckles. “I think I’m going to walk on the track outside. Anyone else want to come?”

  Madison nods. “Sounds good. Piper?”

  “I’m going to go use the restroom. I’ll meet you guys out there in a few.”

  They hesitate no more than a split second before nodding their agreement. “See you out there.” Quinn winks at Piper and pulls Madison away with her.

  I shake my head and walk away to check the barre classroom and make sure no one else is waiting on Susan. Piper’s footsteps head in the other direction toward the women’s locker room.

  I thought maybe she’d stayed behind to talk to me, but I guess that’s not the case. I remain at the classroom door until about five minutes after the class had been due to begin, then return to my favorite punching bag, strap on my gloves and go to town on it. My fists are flying fast when I spy Piper coming toward me out of the corner of my eye. Maybe she has something to say after all. We’ve been mostly on our best behavior since the field trip. Much to my surprise, we hadn’t exchanged any barbs at all today at school. Have we finally gotten a grip? Ended the suck-up war?

  As I watch, she wanders around looking at different equipment, and every once in a while, she peeks my way. I don’t think she realizes that I know she’s there.

  Finally, after about ten minutes, she stops near me, catching my eye. I smack the bag one more time before stopping its motion and turning to her. I don’t say anything, but eye her as I pull off my gloves. I toss them aside, settling my hands on my hips.

  “Tell me about this MMA stuff.”

  Well, that was unexpected. “What do you mean?”

  “Why do you like it?” She gazes at me curiously, and I have to admit, I have no idea why she’s asking.

  “It’s good stress relief and keeps me in good shape.” I exhale through my nose, decision made. “Come here.”

  She frowns hard at me. “What? No.”

  I roll my eyes. “Would you just not argue with me for once?”

  There’s a slightly petulant look on her face, but after a few seconds, she presses her lips together, clearly exasperated. “Fine.” S
he crosses to me. “What?”

  “Hold your hands out.” She eyes me warily, but holds still as I go through the process of putting hand wraps on her. I put the loop over her right thumb, go around her wrist three times, and around her palm. I pause for a second. “Spread your fingers wide.” Then I continue, concentrating on what I’m doing, but also mildly distracted by the way her eyes are focused on me. She’s not even really watching what I’m doing. I feel her eyes scanning my face and occasionally dropping to my chest as I begin weaving the wrap intricately around her palm, fingers, and wrist.

  “That’s quite the process.”

  I grunt. “It protects your hands. I’ll put you in gloves, too. Just give me a second to finish up here with your other hand.”

  She frowns for a second, but falls silent as she watches me work on her left hand, mesmerized.

  “Do your friends realize you aren’t joining them?”

  Her lips lift into a tiny smirk. “They know.”

  “Did you text them?”

  “No.”

  My brows raise, but I don’t comment. “I’ll be right back.” I would imagine the same female telepathy that happens between my sisters also happens among Piper and her friends. She didn’t need to tell them because they read her correctly before they walked out the door.

  She wets her lips as she watches me come back over with a set of women’s gloves for her and a pair of mitts for me. Without a word, I help her with the gloves, then put on the mitts. I give her some instructions as I lead her over to the mat.

  She eyes my hands carefully. “Why are we doing this?”

  “We’ve been going round and round in circles forever. I figure you’ve probably wanted to hit me for a good, long while. Now’s your chance.” I wiggle my brows at her with a grin.

  “Why do you work here? Do you like it that much? Doesn’t it take a lot of your time?” She worries her lip slowly with her teeth, raking over the delicate pink skin.

  My gaze is stuck on her lips when I answer. “It’s another job. You know how it is. Teachers don’t get paid much. I have a family to support.”

  Her eyes go soft, and she begins to nod, and that’s when I push her just a little further, knowing it’s going to fire her up and set her off. “That’s why I want your job, too.”

  When it clicks in her head that I’m referring to taking the department chair position, her eyes flare and her body goes rigid. “Why do you have to be such a jerk all the time?”

  “I’m not trying to be a jerk. I’m giving you the straight answer because that’s how I play things. You’re curious about why I have multiple jobs? Well, I’m not in it for the glory. I need the damn job. Now, come on. Show me what you’ve got.”

  She takes a swing at one of the mitts, then another, and another. And as we go, she gets beautifully riled up. “You know what? I need that damn job, too. You’ll do anything to make sure it’s yours, though, won’t you? Including hurting me.”

  “Oh, come on. I’m not trying to hurt you and you know it. In fact, how do I know that kiss earlier this week wasn’t you trying to hurt me?”

  She stops and stares at me, breathing hard. “I would never. I don’t fake things just to get my way. I could never hurt you, anyway. I’m just an obstacle in your way. You’d be hard-pressed to convince me otherwise.”

  Judging by the look on her face, I think she wants to jump me and punch me all at the same time. I’m beginning to think I could go for that. I quirk a brow at her. “You’re feisty tonight. I like it. Get out that frustration with me. Come on. Bring it.” I urge her to come back at me and she does, twice as hard as before. She’s actually pretty damn impressive, considering she’s never done this before. She takes a few more swings at my mitts before she stops, bending over, bracing her gloved hands on her knees. Her chest heaves up and down as I wait for her to stand back up, only— Oh, shit.

  She’s crying.

  I swallow hard, pulling my mitts off as quickly as I can. I don’t deal well with crying women. You’d think with three little sisters I’d have it all figured out by now, but nope. I get all choked up. I can handle a sister in need of talking through boy problems or one who needs me to keep tampons and Midol in my desk drawer any day. But tears? I’m no good at this part.

  Reaching out a hand, I touch it to her shoulder before I murmur, “Piper, what’s wrong?” I grit my teeth when she doesn’t respond, but cries harder. “Did you hurt your hand? Let me see.”

  She straightens up half-laughing, half-crying. “I didn’t hurt myself.” Tears course down her cheeks, and she sniffs a little. “My need for the job standing between us is no greater, no more important than yours. I think you should know—I spoke with Elena on the bus. I know she’s worried about having money for college. And I can’t fault you for trying to do whatever you can, especially to support your family.” She swipes her forearms over her cheeks, wiping away the tears. “And it strikes me that if your father passed when you were nineteen—Damon? Have you been supporting an entire family since you were that young?”

  I shrug. “I’ve done what I had to do.” I don’t need her feeling sorry for me or my family. We’re fine because I’ve worked hard to make it so. I reach for her hands, helping her to remove her gloves and wraps. As I work, I can sense her emotions rising.

  Her eyes fill with tears again and slam shut as she swallows hard. “I don’t even know what I’m doing anymore.”

  “Hey.” My voice is gentle, using the tone I know works best with my sisters when they’re upset. I put my hands on her biceps and squeeze ever so slightly. “Everything will be okay.” I bend down a bit as she opens her eyes. I stare straight into them, noting how glassy they still are and how those tears give them a shimmer that looks particularly pretty—not that I like her crying one bit.

  “Will it, though? I feel like I’ve been constantly proving myself my entire life. Constantly pushing myself to be the best because …”

  My fingers press gently into the skin of her arms again. “Why?” The question rasps straight up out of my chest.

  She blinks at me. “This seems stupid because I’m freaking twenty-six years old.” She pauses, her breath ragged. “I think you know already that my parents are hard on me. They’re super smart, strict, and have always assumed that I’ll follow in their footsteps. They can’t understand why I don’t automatically have the job, don’t get why it’s even a point of contention. Their belief is that as their child, I should be able to do or have whatever I want. Because I’m supposed to be that good.”

  I frown. “I get that to a certain extent. They’re proud of you. Want the best for you. What do they do again?”

  “But you’re missing my point. I’m not entitled to anything.” Piper pulls away from me, turning around, a wet chuckle escaping her lips. “They are both department chairs of their respective subjects at a very popular academic academy about an hour from here.”

  That explains a lot.

  “Nothing I do is ever enough. If I get this position, there will always, always be something else. I’m so over it, and feel like I’m stuck between a rock and a hard place. I want the position for myself, and I’ve worked hard for it, but I also wonder …”

  My forehead creases. I want the rest of her thoughts, want this woman’s trust, though I’m not sure why she’d give it to me. “Go on.”

  She swallows visibly. “I wonder sometimes if I were to fail—if maybe that would be better for me in the long run.” She laughs again, the hurt in it obvious. “I don’t know why I’m telling you all of this. I’m sorry. It’s not fair to you.”

  “You can tell me anything. Anything at all.” And I mean it. I take her head between my hands and stare into her eyes. I slide my thumb across her lower lip before I lean in to brush a soft kiss over her mouth. The enticing taste of her lips combines the sweetness I’d savored the last time I kissed her with the salt from her tears. My insides twist, feeling her pain and confusion as my own.

  Piper wrenches awa
y. “This isn’t a good idea. I can’t do this with you.”

  I watch with a heavy heart as she hurries away.

  Chapter 22

  Damon

  Piper is an enigma. We’d squabbled yesterday at the gym. And then, to my surprise, she hadn’t argued when I’d put the gloves on her. And, oh God, just thinking about how her curvy body had come at me, fists flying into my mitts—it’d been the stuff dreams are made of. She’d sparred with me physically just as well as she does verbally, and it turned me on even more.

  But then she’d shown me a soft spot, dropping her guard for just a few minutes. I’d seen into her devastatingly sweet soul. I’d become aware of what—besides me, of course—has been bothering her this whole time. She’s under way more pressure from her parents than I’d initially thought—an unbelievable amount, considering it’s coming from the two people who are supposed to love her most. The fear of disappointing them has her unsure of what she should do next. I dislike these people and don’t even know them.

  Now what do I do? Take advantage of knowing just how torn she is by the whole situation? Steer her away from taking the department chair position? Or do I give in? Let her have it? There is no easy answer here. One of us is going to lose out. If she wins, I miss the opportunity to make it easier for us to send Elena to college. Not that the position will pay for much more than textbooks, but as Esme had pointed out, every little bit counts. Or, if I win, she could be free of the burden of having to please her parents. Who am I to say that’s what she really wants? She’s a go-getter, despite what her parents want. She’s brilliant, really.

  If I win, do I lose my chance with her? Is that what I want? Would I be okay with that? Or is she who I want? I have no idea. I feel like I could maybe get behind this delicious love/hate thing Piper and I have going on, but then I wonder if I should be cancelling the date with Sherlock4Love. I almost feel like I’m cheating. But I’m not with either of them.