When Our Worlds Ignite (An Our Worlds Spin-Off Book 1)

by Lindsey Iler

  I hang my head and remain silent. The warmth of his body leaves me, and his absence spreads all the way to my toes. The apartment door slams on our story. I immediately brush away a spattering of tears to remove their existence from my reality. Where’s my courage now? Where’s all the evidence I used to convince myself I’m doing the right thing?

  And most of all, why does it hurt so bad?

  The front door slamming draws my mind from a day I’d like to forget. Do I go down there? Do I stay hidden, tucked away with my memories?

  Curiosity gets the best of me, and I spring off the mattress. I need to see him. See if he’s changed in the last few weeks. Witness the fire I saw in his eyes that day I drove away from him. Slowly, I descend the stairs, careful to keep my presence hidden.

  “I didn’t know you were coming,” I lie as my feet hit the bottom step. Solid effort in trying to seem unaffected, Vi. Real smooth.

  Dan spins around to face me, and I remind my heart it belongs in my chest, not on the floor. The moment his eyes narrow on me, I realize I’m not ready to see him. Despite the gnawing panic, I don’t fret. Instead, I straighten my spine, square my shoulders, and prepare my mind and heart to go to battle. My job is to protect me, and that’s exactly what I plan to do. Keep your game face on. Don’t let him notice your struggle.

  Nothing like your best friend acting like he’s invincible to change your plans for the day.

  Only Graham Black would be stupid enough to charge into a burning building. At first glance, you would assume he’s a maniac, but his reason makes sense. Everyone who knows him isn’t surprised he ran through a wall of fire to save Ben, the little boy responsible for changing Graham into a man. Of course, Kennedy, my surrogate little sister, never lets us forget the part she’s played in building the man Graham is today.

  “What do you need? Anything at all, and I’ll bring it,” I say into my phone.

  My restless feet won’t let me stand still. In the almost three hours since receiving the first text from Rico, I’ve alternated between working out and pacing back and forth outside of the gym. Being unaware and ill-informed about the whole situation sucks.

  Rico’s half-assed version of the story wasn’t enough, so even though the last thing I wanted to do was contact Violet, my need to help my friends overpowered my hesitancy. Knowing she was the one who would drive Kennedy to Connecticut left me little choice but to text her.

  “No, seriously, don’t even come up here. We’re doing okay,” Graham rasps. His barking cough tells me otherwise.

  “I’ll finish up my workout and see you in a couple of hours.” Graham’s disapproving groan eggs me on. “I’ll bring you flowers,” I sing into the receiver as I wipe the sweat from my brow. “Daisies still your favorite?”

  “Fine, but you should know . . .” His long pause concerns me. “Violet’s at the house.” Graham’s apprehension thickens my worries. My playful attitude vanishes.

  “I’m a big boy. I can handle being under the same roof with my ex-girlfriend.” A total lie. Graham’s laughter grates on my last nerve. “What, you don’t think I can handle it?” I ask.

  “I know you can’t handle it. Violet’s a firecracker. The girl will light the tip, and you’ll explode.”

  “Are you talking sexually or metaphorically?” I sling my bag over my shoulder. “I’ll see you in a few hours. Try not to do anything stupid in the meantime.”

  “Me? Do something stupid? Never.” He chuckles. “Just go to the house. Hopefully, I’ll be discharged soon, or else I’m busting myself out.” He hangs up without a goodbye.

  When I give my teammates a brief explanation for why I need to jet out early, no one seems too concerned. They continue their workouts and making plans for the rest of the night. More than likely, it will be the usual bro night at one of their apartments, bullshitting over ESPN and sharing a pizza. Throw in a handful of scantily clad co-eds for the perfect trifecta.

  “I’m heading out,” I yell as I pass by the coach’s office.

  “Hold on a second, Forrester.” He jumps from his seat and meets me in the hall. The fact he’s using my last name tells me everything I need to know. Coach means business.

  “I really need to get going,” I argue, jerking my head toward the door.

  “Dan, have you given any thought to the talk we had the other day?” He jerks his glasses off and tucks them into his shirt pocket.

  “I’m still not sure.” I adjust the strap digging into my shoulder.

  “You have a bright future. On the team. Off the team. In the end, it’s your decision.”

  “Thanks, Coach.” I wave goodbye and jet out the front door. Once my bag hits the bed of the truck, I race through town to the highway.

  The driveway is nearly empty when I pull in around six. As soon as I open the front door, her scent hits me, and I regret not showering and putting on clean clothes back at the gym. Light footsteps echo on the stairs, and I stop short when I feel eyes on me.

  We haven’t seen each other in weeks, and I’m not prepared. If there’s one thing Violet is capable of, it’s the overwhelming way she makes my nerves flair to life at the mere sight of her. The pure disappointment of not being able to reach out to her is crushing. She’s no longer mine to hold. God damn, that hurts.

  “I didn’t know you were coming.” Her voice is a near whisper.

  “Graham told me I didn’t need to, but I thought if I could be any help, then I should be here,” I explain.

  “Always the hero,” Violet murmurs. She throws her hands up in disgust, takes a deep breath, and shakes her head as if doing so will erase the words from her lips.

  “Excuse me?” I snap. My eyes narrow as I step into the living room.

  “It’s just typical of you. You always show up when things fall apart. You’re always on. I don’t know how you do it.” She follows my strides and drops down on the couch.

  “I apologize if my niceness makes you uncomfortable, Vi.” I sneer her name like a curse word. Who the hell does she think she is? These people are my friends just as much as they’re hers. What’s with the whole snarky, bitch act?

  “Doesn’t it get old? Playing the good guy?” The way her fingers flutter to her neck gives her away. Is her pissy attitude some sort of defense mechanism? Is she afraid her thick armor will slip?

  “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” I bite back. If she wants to play the hard-ass game, then count me in.

  “There’s no possible way someone like you actually exists, so what I’m curious to know is how you keep up the charade?”

  “This isn’t a charade, baby. This is who I am. I know it’s hard for you to believe, but there are decent people in the world.”

  “Unlikely.” She crosses her arms over her chest.

  “Wow! Your daddy sure did a number on you, didn’t he?” Regret floods my heart the instant the words fly from my mouth. She’s having a hard time with her dad’s infidelity, and using it against her isn’t fair. What are you talking about? All’s fair in love and war, right?

  “I knew you had it in you to be like every other asshole roaming this earth.” She wiggles off the couch to storm out, but I step in front of her to block her exit. Her fists bunch at her sides.

  “No, you don’t get to act like that, and then turn the tables on me. All I did is walk through the door, and all of a sudden, your claws come out. I didn’t come here for you, so let’s get that straight.”

  “Straight as an arrow.” Her breath comes out in a huff. “And while you’re here, do me a favor and keep your distance.” Empty, emotionless eyes stare at me as though she’s dead inside.

  This can’t possibly be Violet. What once was vibrant life and undeniable attraction is now a void that hurts more than hearing she no longer loves me. My heart begs for the safety of seclusion. The steps pass two at a time in my rush to escape. My foot bashes against the empty guest room door, slamming it shut behind me. I hit the solid wood with a loud thud and slip to the floor.


  “What the fuck just happened?” I whisper.

  How did things escalate so quickly? My nose scrunches at Violet’s scent. God, it smells like her perfume in here. Unlike most girls, she doesn’t reek of flowers, but of something subtle mixed with sandalwood. Why the fuck do I even know that? Did she spray the sheets and curtains? The smell I once admired and begged to stick to my pillows now causes my stomach to churn in anger.

  A knock rattles against my back. I push off the floor and slowly open the door, afraid of what will be waiting for me. If Violet is on the other side, storming out of this house isn’t an option. Keep your cool. Rico pushes through, forcing me out of his way. He’s charismatic in the worst way possible, and by the shit-eating grin on his face, I’d say he’s up to no good.

  “Who peed in Violet’s cheerios?” He plops down on the bed. “I know it wasn’t me.”

  “I chose to breathe, and apparently, it’s an abomination.” I sit on the mattress, opposite him.

  He laughs hysterically. “You guys are Kennedy and Graham, two-point-oh. You’ll survive this little hiccup.”

  “I don’t think this is a hiccup. Violet’s made her choice.” I lounge back casually, when what I really want to do is rip through the house like a tornado. Firecracker doesn’t begin to describe her. She’s stubborn and unwavering when she has her mind set on something. It’s infuriating.

  “So, that’s that, then?” Rico’s eyebrow quirks in question. A sense of disappointment fogs the room.

  “Why do you even care, Mister I-don’t-believe-in-true-love?” I stretch my arms over my head.

  “I don’t care. It actually plays in my favor to have you two broken up. I get to have a brand new wingman. Girls will eat up this whole depressed, angry thing you have going on.” He ghosts his hands over me. “You’ll be like a worm at the end of a hook for them.”

  “And then you’ll swoop in, pretending to be the supportive friend?” I finish his warped thought.

  “Exactly.” He wiggles his eyebrows.

  The deafening sound of the front door slamming into the wall has us pushing and shoving to see who can get downstairs first.

  A weary Kennedy helps Graham into the house. When she sees me, her eyes well up. I run down the last steps and encase her in a hug. Her arms stretch around my waist, and she draws in a deep breath. I’ve kept my distance for a reason, and that reason is probably in the kitchen acting like a martyr because she’s too proud to show genuine emotion.

  “I miss you, too,” I joke and squeeze her tighter.

  “Get your hands off my fiancée,” Graham says proudly as he wedges his body between us. They smile at each other as if no one else is in the room with them.

  “Did I miss something?” Rico rubs his ribs where I elbowed him during our race down the stairs.

  “Where’s Vi?” Kennedy glances around the living room. “She hasn’t left, has she?” She glares at me because if it’s anyone’s fault for her leaving, of course, it would be mine.

  “Like I’d leave without saying goodbye,” Violet says as she glides past me without giving me a second look. Her hands wrap around her best friend’s arms. “What’s all the commotion about?”

  “Kennedy and Graham were just about to explain why he called her his fiancée,” Rico blurts out, winning a burning glare from them.

  “What?” Violet squeals.

  The girls jump up and down, while we three guys watch a weird girly ritual we’ll never understand. Seeing Violet’s smile almost melts the small frozen section of my heart reserved for her. Small? HA! That’s comical.

  “A lot happened at the hospital,” Kennedy explains.

  “Obviously.” Violet lifts Kennedy’s hand to her face and squints her eyes. I peek over her shoulder, probably looking for the same thing. “Something’s missing here, don’t you think, Graham?”

  We laugh because it’s so typical of Graham and Kennedy. They run a hundred miles a minute and have since high school. Neither of them thinks things through because emotion is what carries them through life.

  “We’ll be getting her a ring, don’t you all worry.” Graham pulls Kennedy back into his side and kisses her temple. Her contagious smile hasn’t wavered since Graham’s come back into her life. His matching expression is dusted with soot from the fire. “I’m going to go shower, then I’d really like to celebrate with all of our friends.” The weight of the day is evident in Graham’s slumped shoulders as he shrugs.

  “Yeah, man, go wash up and get a change of clothes. Rico will make us something to eat,” I offer, looking at our culinary genius friend.

  “Yeah, I’ll make us some food, and you can explain how you managed to propose to our little Kennedy.” He hugs the female half of the newly engaged couple and disappears into the kitchen.

  Kennedy leads Graham upstairs. Violet glances at me with that damn blank expression before she walks away. The small grunt I hear when she turns her back makes me chuckle. She sure is trying awfully hard to prove she doesn’t give a shit.

  The smell filtering from the kitchen has my stomach turning over in need, reminding me it’s been hours since I’ve eaten. Whatever Rico’s making, I want a giant helping of it.

  “I can’t believe he proposed,” Rico says as I sit on a stool at the center island.

  “You can’t?” I raise an eyebrow. “I’ve seen this coming since junior year of high school. A guy like Graham doesn’t get wrapped up by anyone, but we all saw the way he looked at her. He’s been a goner ever since.”

  A mirage of memories from their past scrolls through my mind. Accompanied by them are my own of Violet. Our lives are intertwined to the point it’s impossible to think of them without thinking of us. The thought makes me resentful. My fist slams into the marble countertop. The resulting pain is a nice reminder she hasn’t actually killed me.

  “I wish I’d had friends like you in high school. I grew up in private schools. Only the best of the best for Rico, my parents would say. I could’ve used friends like you all.” Rico glares in my direction, stirring the contents of the pan.

  “Why so sentimental, Rico?” Violet asks as she strolls into the kitchen, a fake pep in her step if I’ve ever seen one before. She can pretend all she wants. I’m under her skin, and I don’t plan on leaving.

  My eyes follow every move she makes. Even with pure animosity for me rolling off her, I still see her as beautiful and charismatic. I have to look away.

  “You really don’t know how lucky you are. To have had each other for all these years.” Rico’s voice is a near whisper.

  Violet’s back is rigid. Her deep breaths can be seen by the movement of her shirt. His words hit hard in my chest as I gaze at the girl who’s taught me what it feels like to love and be loved. These memories don’t go away with a few harsh words. I’ll torment myself trying, though.

  She peers at me over her shoulder. Her eyes scream pain and wavering uncertainty, but glaze over at his spoken truth. My body wants to move to her, to hold her, comfort her. It begs me to, and for a second, my fingertips twitch to tuck a strand of crimson hair behind her ear. I’d give anything to touch her one last time. Before I build up the nerve, though, she turns and leaves.

  “A word to the wise.” Rico shakes the spatula at me, dripping bacon grease on the floor. “If you want to look unaffected by a beauty like Violet, you ought to pick your jaw up off the ground.”

  “Fuck off.” The rolling of my eyes has him in stitches.

  “He’s right, you know?” Graham walks into the kitchen, grips my shoulder, and gives it a hard squeeze. “How are you two holding up under the same roof? Is it as magical as I assumed it would be?”

  “You mean you couldn’t smell the sexual frustration and angst upstairs?” Rico turns back to the stove and scrapes the mixture into a bowl. He opens the oven and removes a tray of golden-to-perfection biscuits. “The two of them were practically ripping each other’s heads off with just a few stares, all while imagining the other naked. It was a rive
ting display of love and hate.”

  Graham chuckles as he sits on the stool across from me and eyes me with questions he’ll never ask. Guys are different than the female population. The need to discuss and dissect every little theory of our lives never crosses our minds. We’re simple creatures, preferring to pretend everything is okay. Although I’ve spent the better half of Graham and Kennedy’s relationship dishing out advice, nothing either of them could say right now will fix the shit storm in my head.

  “I still can’t believe you two are engaged.” Violet’s voice echoes as she and Kennedy walk arm-in-arm into the kitchen.

  Kennedy takes a seat beside Graham, while Violet glares holes in the stool next to me. After a visible mental debate, she chooses the farthest at the end of the island. Whatever. Rico places the food on the counter and sits beside me, clueless to our little exchange. Kennedy and Graham look at each other with questioning expressions, but avert their eyes from Violet and me, pretending they don’t notice the small, rude gesture.

  “Should we say grace?” Rico extends his hands to the side for Violet and me to take. Everyone snickers. “You all could use a little Jesus in your life. Just saying.” He tosses a biscuit on his plate and spoons the gravy mixture over the top.

  “Yeah, when was the last time you went to church, Rico?” Violet giggles. He flips her off and stuffs his mouth with a forkful of biscuits and gravy. The bacon snaps as he devours half of the strip.

  We follow in Rico’s wake, spooning food onto our plate, ready to enjoy what his hands have made for us. Violet moans after the first bite, and my dick jumps at the familiar sound. My eyes shift to hers as her tongue laps the fork. Down boy. She’s not ours anymore.

  Rico’s middle finger pushes up the bottom of my jaw. “Do I need to give you another lesson on how not to look like an idiot in front of a beautiful girl?”