Change of Heart

by Scarlett Edwards

  “But I can’t help it, Penny,” he continues eventually. “It’s what you do to me. It’s what you bring out in me. I know everything between us is fucked up. I know everything is broken. But all the feelings I have inside… I can’t put them into words. So, I do the only thing I can. I act. I act on them. Sometimes, I lose control when I do it. But I promise you, nobody has ever made me feel so conflicted before.”

  I laugh a little. The sound comes out as unsteady as my nerves. “Is that supposed to make me feel special? That I make you feel conflicted?”

  “I don’t fucking know what it’s supposed to make you feel. But it’s the truth.”

  I step away from him, suppressing the sigh that wants to come out of my throat at the loss of his warmth. I turn back and look him in the eye. “So, you act. Is that your thing, Rich? You act and you regret it?”

  “Yes,” he says, picking up my hand again. His fingers intertwine with mine. “I act, and later I wish I hadn’t. Like just now, in the bar.”

  “Like when you kissed me in Amanda’s garage,” I say softly.

  “Yes,” he whispers. He cups my chin and lifts it up. “Yes, just like that.”

  Slowly, as if we’re both in a trance, his lips descend to meet mine. They touch. His kiss is soft, gentle, and caring. He doesn’t force himself on me. He doesn’t pry my mouth open with his tongue. He just stays like that, pressing his lips into mine.

  It is the sweetest kiss I’ve ever had. But, no matter how much I want the moment to last… it can’t. I turn my head away.

  “We can’t do this, Rich,” I tell him, staring sadly at the passing cars.

  “Why not?” He presses his nose into my hair. I shudder as he inhales deeply. “Says who?”

  “Says me,” I tell him, knowing that if he holds me for even a second longer all my current resolve will melt away. I step back, breaking off from him. “And, says you. In Amanda’s house. You told me we couldn’t be together. That you weren’t right for me.” I take a shockingly unsteady breath. “Tonight, I realized you were right.”

  Rich’s expression doesn’t change. His face remains exactly the same. If I hadn’t spent so much time with him, it would have been easy to miss the sudden way his eyes become crestfallen. “What?”

  “You were right,” I repeat. “The two of us are wrong for each other. I make you say and do stupid things. You put me in danger. We don’t match. We make a horrible pair.”

  “Penny…”

  “No, Rich. You know it’s the truth. I didn’t want to see it before. Now, I do. You opened my eyes to it.”

  “You know you can’t just go home anymore,” he says gravely. “Amanda knows who you are, which means Tam and Victor do, too. You’re stuck with me until I can resolve things.”

  “I know,” I agree. I’m impressed by how resolute my voice sounds. Inside, I’m on the verge of tears. “And I’ll stick with you through it to the end. But no longer. There won’t be any messy feelings involved. We’ll both go into it with a clear mind.” I nod. “That makes it the right decision.”

  Rich looks at me for a long time without saying anything. Don’t make this any harder than it has to be, I beg in my head. Please, please, please.

  “You’re right,” he says finally, defeated. “Of course, you’re right. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I let anything happen to you. Getting away from me was always your best choice. If you were too stubborn to see if before, well, at least I’m glad that you do now. I care for you, Penny. That’s how I know you’re right. It hurts me to admit it, but… you’re right.”

  “I know I am,” I mumble sadly. “I know I am.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Closed,” Rich grunts. “Just like the others. Is it too much to ask for a damn bank in this town?”

  Soon after leaving the Blackbear’s parking lot, we discovered Rich had left all his cash in his truck. He had his credit cards, but didn’t want to use the ATMs for fear of being traced. A teller inside a bank would let him make a withdrawal without that worry. Unfortunately, that wasn’t a possibility at this hour.

  “Any motels around here would want money upfront,” Rich grumbles as he climbs back onto the bike.

  “So, where does that leave us?”

  Rich gives me a knowing look. “You ever been camping?”

  ***

  The good thing about being in such a remote location is that it’s not hard to get away from people. The bad thing is that it doesn’t take more than a single wrong turn to get lost.

  I follow Rich through yet another muddy trail in the woods. This is a recreational camping area, so I’m not too worried about becoming hopelessly stranded. Of course, we did have to climb over a chain fence to get inside.

  The forest opens to a serene, dark lake. It’s eerily quiet. The sky is clear. I can see the reflections of thousands of tiny stars on the water’s surface.

  “Here we are,” Rich announces. “Our grand accommodations for the night. I’ll get a fire going.”

  “A fire? Here?” I’m surprised. “How?”

  “Oh that’s right, I forgot, you’re just a city girl, aren’t you?” Rich teases. “Unused to the rural ways. All the way from Jersey. Right?”

  “California, actually,” I admit. I figure I owe it to him to tell him a little about myself at this point. “I grew up in L.A.”

  “L.A.?” Rich asks. “That explains… absolutely nothing.” He laughs. “Aren’t you supposed to have bleach blonde hair and a spray tan, then?”

  “Aren’t you supposed to be starting a fire?” I nudge him on with my shoulder. “Go on, show this city girl how it’s done.”

  “Well,” Rich says, looking around, “first we’ll need a fire pit. Ah! Over there.” He points to a spot near the water. It’s too dark for me to make out. “We’ll need some twigs to use for kindling. Those shouldn’t be hard to find around here.” He gestures at the forest behind us. “But they need to be dry, or the flame will never catch.”

  “Dry twigs,” I say. “Got it. How many do we need?”

  “If you can get an armload it should be enough. I’ll show you what to look for.”

  I follow him back into the trees. We act like nothing has happened.

  ***

  Half an hour later, there are two armfuls of dry tinder by the fire pit. I sit on a nearby log and rub my hands together for warmth, watching Rich. He’s going through all the wood we’ve collected with meticulous care, examining each and every piece before either tossing it over his shoulder or carefully setting it down into the pit.

  I’m fascinated by the process. I’d never seen anyone build a fire before. It’s dark, unfortunately, so the most I can see is Rich’s shadowed figure. Every once in a while, though, he goes still, and I can feel his eyes on me. Every time, the moment passes before I can say anything.

  Abruptly, a tiny spark flashes. Moments later, a little flame flickers to life in the middle of the fort Rich had built. I gasp, delighted. The flame spreads, lighting up the area around the pit.

  “That’s amazing,” I exclaim. “How did you do that?”

  “The Zippo helped.” Rich flicks it on and off in his hands with a smile. “But the trick is to get the right type of wood. Not everything will kindle right away.” He waves a hand over the discarded pile of twigs. At least three quarters of what we’d collected must be there. “The hardest part come next. We have to feed the fire slowly so it doesn’t snuff out.”

  “How?”

  “Come here.”

  I walk over and crouch down beside him. The fire barely reaches halfway to my knees. It gives off only a little warmth.

  “Here.” Rich hands me a long, scrawny stick. It doesn’t look any different from the ones in the fire. “Hold the thin end just above the flame. Like this.” Rich takes my wrist and directs my arm as he leans close to me. “And then you wait…” he whispers in my ear, “…for the flames to catch.”

  “Like this?” Rich’s proximity is a very welcome feeli
ng in the night.

  “Yes,” he says, pressing himself closer to me. “Now, rotate it to spread the heat around.” Something about the way he says “heat” sends shivers down my spine. I try to focus on the fire in front of me—not the one that threatens to ignite inside from having Rich so close.

  “Now what?” I ask, trying to shake off the feelings that are forming within me.

  “Now,” Rich says softly, “you wait for the ‘pop’.”

  As if on command, the stick in my hand cracks. A flame springs to life at the end. I laugh.

  “Now put it in there, quickly,” Rich urges me. “In line with the rest. You want to form a pyramid out of them.”

  I lower my stick into the fire. The rest of it is absorbed by the flames immediately. “You know, this is kind of fun,” I admit.

  Rich steps away from me to gather more firewood from the discarded pile. The loss of his body warmth is uncannily unpleasant. “You’re a pro,” he praises, handing me the next piece of wood. “You don’t even need me to guide you.”

  “I had a good teacher,” I smile, and bring the next twig over the fire just like he’d shown me. Rich does the same with another stick beside me. We take turns adding to the fire like that, moving around the pit to make sure everything’s even.

  Soon after, all the twigs we’d collected make a solid base for the darting flames. The fire roars all the way up to my waist, offering plenty of heat. In fact, it’s so hot that I have to take off my jacket when I go sit on the nearby log.

  Rich settles down beside me. He looks into the flames without saying a word.

  Shadows flicker across his face. His eyes seem more intense than I’ve ever seen them. The fire illuminates his hair, turning it a deep, solid red. Not the orangey, soft red of a carrot, but the intense, steady red of a chestnut stallion.

  Without warning he turns his head. His eyes bore deep into mine.

  “Ahem.” I clear my throat when he doesn’t say anything. For some reason, I feel my cheeks growing warm. “What?”

  “What are you thinking about?” Rich asks with serious gravity. The way he says it makes the question seem a lot more loaded than the words alone would entail.

  “I was wondering where you learned to make a fire,” I lie, trying to dissipate the sudden intensity between us.

  He seems surprised. “Really?”

  I nod. “Yeah.”

  “Well,” he begins, his eyes taking on a distant look, “I went camping once with my sister and father. I was around eight. Min would have been… four or five. My father brought one of his…” Rich makes a disgusted sound in his throat, “… female friends. They ended up spending the whole trip locked in a tent together, leaving me and Min to fend for ourselves.

  “One evening, we wandered off into the woods. We lost track of time. Before we knew it, it started getting dark. Min became scared. She began to cry. I knew we couldn’t find our way back at night. Luckily, I had my backpack, and it had…” Rich flips his Zippo through his fingers, “… this. I read a survival book before we went on our trip. I remembered reading a chapter about starting a fire with nothing but flint and steel. I had the Zippo, though.”

  Rich sighs. “This was in the summer. I was terrified of setting the whole forest on fire. Believe it or not, I used to be a cautious little kid. But, I was scared for Min even more. I collected a little pile of sticks. I arranged them just like that.” He points to the fire pit. “And I tried my hardest to light it. But, no matter what I did, it just wouldn’t catch. I followed the instructions exactly as I remembered them. But it didn’t work.”

  He continues. “Even a silent forest starts to make scary noises in the night. Min and I huddled together in the dark, too frightened to close our eyes. Every sound caused us to jump. Every gust of wind caused her to break into tears. All because I couldn’t take care of her.” Rich’s voice becomes hard. “All because I couldn’t start a damn fire.”

  My heart melts. I can hear how much he loves his sister in his words. I would have given anything to have a family member like that when I was growing up.

  “…Then what?” I ask when he doesn’t continue.

  My voice rouses Rich from his spell. “What? Oh. Nothing, really. The sun rose in the morning. We found our way back. There was nothing scarier out there than whatever we had in our imaginations. But I swore to myself that day I would learn to build a fire.” He shrugs. “When I got home, I did.”

  “What about your father?” I ask. “Wasn’t he worried? What did he say when you got back?”

  Rich gives a long, bitter laugh. “He didn’t even notice we were gone. The next day, he scolded us for getting our clothes dirty. As if he could expect anything different when you take two kids into the wild.

  “Wow,” I say. “I’m sorry.”

  Rich grimaces. “For what? I already know my father’s an asshole. I don’t need your sympathy for that.”

  “I didn’t mean—”

  “I know what you meant, Penny. You think because I have a bad relationship with my father, you can pigeonhole me into one of those wounded male stereotypes.” He snorts. “Don’t bother. Others have tried. Anyway, it’s a lot more complex than that.”

  “No,” I say, “That’s not what I meant at all. I see now how much you care for your sister. I’m sorry that you had to get tangled with me, and put her in even more danger because of that.”

  “Penny, no.” His voice is full of emotion when he turns to look at me. “I don’t think that way at all.”

  “If I were anybody else,” I tell him, “you would have left me with Tam and Victor. You’d be reunited with Min by now. There’d be nobody to hold you back.”

  “Penny, you’re not holding me back,” Rich stresses. “The only one here at fault is me. Me, and my stupid emotions. Because of them, I put you in danger. I didn’t have the strength to make you leave when you still had the chance.”

  There he goes with that heart-wrenching sincerity again. “Rich?” I look at him, see the dancing flames reflected in his eyes. I can’t stop the words from coming out of my mouth. “Tell me the truth. Would you have come back for anybody else?”

  There is no hesitation in his answer. “No. I came back for you, Penny. No one else.” My heart does a flip in my chest. It becomes a little harder to breathe. “My sister is the most important person in the world to me,” he continues. “She is the only true family I have.” He brushes aside a lock of my hair. “Yet I risked her to be with you.”

  I try to swallow the lump in my throat. “Really?”

  “Yes.” Rich leans toward me. “Only for you.” He is so close I can feel his hot breath on my skin. So close that there is nothing separating us but the thinnest sliver of air. His nose nuzzles against mine. “Only for you,” he repeats.

  Then, he kisses me.

  I respond too easily. My mouth opens to him with no hesitation. Rational thought has abandoned me. I kiss him back, forgetting everything I told him before. Ignoring all the things I should be remembering. The heat of the flames beats against one side of my face, but it’s the rest of my body that suddenly feels too hot.

  Rich’s hand finds the small of my back. He tugs me close. I let out a little gasp as our hips collide. A cool rush of air runs along my swollen lips where Rich’s mouth had just been.

  With a start, I remember myself. When Rich tries to come in and kiss me again, I turn away.

  “Penny,” he says, “is everything all right?”

  “This is wrong,” I tell him. “We shouldn’t be doing this.”

  Rich reaches up to cup my chin with two fingers. Gently, he turns my face to his. “Don’t tell me it’s wrong,” he whispers, “when we both know it feels so right.”

  He kisses me again. This time, I’m determined not to fold so easily. I clamp my lips together, refusing to allow him in, no matter how much I want to. But Rich stays determined. His tongue presses into my mouth. His hand comes up and winds in my hair.

  He’s so big and stro
ng he could easily have his way with me. I know this. But I also know the difference between persistence and force. Even though Rich is trying to get me to kiss him back, not once do I feel pressured or scared. His hand is caught in my hair, and while he could use his other to hold me down, he does not. It’s laying still on his lap.

  He’s giving me an escape route if I need to take it.

  I don’t. I can’t help the arousal from stirring up inside me. I can’t deny how badly I want to kiss him back. So, I do.

  I open my mouth to his, letting the swell of passion overcome me. As soon as he senses my acceptance, both his hands are on me. He lifts me by the waist and settles me on his lap. Waves of heat beat against my back. Waves of desire crash within my body.

  My hands tangle in his hair, bringing him closer. I let the taste and smell of Rich guide me. He moans as I kiss him hard, unleashing the torrent of emotions that have been boiling inside me. I’m swept off my feet by him—his smell, his taste, his touch. I want to bury myself deep in his essence.

  His hands run down the sides of my body. They brush along the outside of my breasts, teasing me with their touch. I can feel his fingers pressing deep into the flesh of my waist. My need for him is overwhelming. The way Rich keeps kissing me turns me into a hot, aroused mess. His kiss leaves me breathless.

  I can’t hold it in anymore. I need to lose control. I need… Rich!

  I gasp his name and tear away from his kiss to rip his shirt off. His eyes shine in the night as he lifts his arms. The top flies off and my hands devour his body in the dark. He groans as I dance my fingers over his shoulders, up and down his hard arms. He pulls me in to kiss me harder.

  Exhilaration fills me. I can tell how much he wants me. So help me God, I want him even more. The desire is so strong it’s unnatural. It can’t be normal. It can’t be healthy.

  I press my body into his, nearly toppling both of us backward off the log. My nipples tighten under my bra as I’m surrounded by Rich’s dense, masculine strength.