Out Of The Ashes

by Diana Gardin

  With the exception of Gillian, I didn’t talk about the fire. Any conversation about my family led straight back to the fact that I was all alone now. How could I have a serious relationship with someone and not talk about the most important thing that had ever happened to me?

  The answer was simple. I couldn’t.

  Ten

  Clay

  My phone dinged, and I groaned as I sat up on the couch and reached for it. Three hours after leaving the field, an emergency room visit and an air cast now covering my ankle added up to a very bad night.

  I glanced at my phone’s screen.

  Paige: Are you okay?

  Then somehow, a text from Paige made the pain disappear. It was replaced by my racing heartbeat as I stared at the words she had written.

  Clay: I’ve been better.

  Paige: Are Drew and Rob taking good care of you?

  Clay: Ha! If u call going out for a beer with the rest of the team taking good care of me.

  Paige: Are you serious? SMH. Guys. What do you need?

  Was I brave enough? I didn’t want to push her away. But she had asked.

  Clay: I need you.

  There. I’d said it. I waited to see what she’d say. I put my phone down, fully prepared to accept the fact that she’d be done speaking to me tonight. I winced as my ankle ached.

  Ding! I picked it up.

  Paige: I’m on my way.

  The sweats I was wearing grew tighter at my groin as I realized that Paige and I would be together in my apartment. Truly alone.

  My gaze swept the living room. It looked like three single guys lived here. It was a mess. I wasn’t able to run around and shove clothes out of the way, or put the dirty dishes piling in the sink into the dishwasher. I wasn’t able to vacuum our messy carpet or run into my room and make my bed. Shit.

  All I could do was look around hopelessly at the mess as I waited.

  About fifteen minutes later, a soft knock sounded at the door, and my heart leaped against my ribs in anticipation of seeing her. In my apartment.

  Alone.

  “Come in. It’s open,” I called.

  The doorknob turned, and Paige pushed the door slowly open and poked her head around the edge.

  “It’s me,” she said plaintively.

  I laughed. “I know, Paige.”

  She smiled and opened the door wider, stepping inside. She closed it quietly behind her and stared at me where I lay on the couch. I sat up to make room for her, and lifted my injured leg with both hands to move it to the coffee table.

  When I winced, she moved quickly to help me.

  “I’m so sorry this happened to you,” she said. She stared sadly at my ankle, and I had the sudden urge to make her feel better.

  “I’m okay,” I assured her. “It’s just a bad ankle sprain. Painful, but I’ll live.”

  She bent down to inspect my ankle, touching it gingerly with nimble fingers.

  “You still have a lot of swelling,” she remarked. “Why aren’t you icing it?”

  I shrugged. “Because the ice is too far away?”

  She frowned, and got up. “I’ll get you some.”

  She tore through the kitchen like a bandit, finding a dishtowel to wrap the ice in and brought back the pack to place gently on my ankle. She held it there, not putting too much pressure on the tender area.

  “You’re good at this,” I said.

  “I have a lot of experience with first aid,” she answered.

  “How’s that?”

  She set her lips in a tight line and didn’t answer. I knew not to push her.

  “Don’t you have something better to do on a Thursday night than playing nurse for me?”

  A short laugh escaped her. “Yeah. My social calendar is packed with stuff to do. You’re keeping me from tea with the First Lady.”

  “Well, why’d you come?”

  She shrugged. “You asked,” she said simply.

  “And you came,” I said in wonder.

  She nodded, avoiding my eyes.

  I reached over and tucked a finger under her chin, nudging her to look at me. “Thank you.”

  She smiled tentatively. “I didn’t want to be anywhere else. I was waiting until I thought you would be home from the hospital to text you. I’ve been thinking about you the entire time, though.”

  “Yeah?” I smiled.

  I liked that. I like that a whole damn lot.

  “Yeah,” she answered. “What an asshole that guy was that tripped you.”

  Now that threw me off, because I’d never heard her curse before. It was sexy as hell.

  “It was definitely a dirty move,” I agreed. “But that’s sports. Not everyone is a good guy.”

  I moved my finger across her face to trail down across her…scar? It wasn’t a line in her skin like a scar was. It was more like the skin on that side of her face was patched. I ran a finger over it, and then leaned closer so I could look in her eyes.

  “Does this hurt?” I whispered.

  She flinched at my touch, but didn’t pull away. She shook her head slowly, transfixed in my stare. Was she as hypnotized looking into my eyes as I was looking into hers?

  I continued to stroke the puckered skin. What was her story? There was so much buried pain in her eyes that it hurt to look at her sometimes. I needed to know the source of it. But I couldn’t push her to tell me. She’d shut down and run away from me.

  So I did the only other thing I could think of. I leaned in and kissed the imperfect skin. Just once. Her breath caught in her throat, and her body tightened. I didn’t move, just inhaled deeply. Her scent overwhelmed me at this distance. She must have just taken a shower before she left her apartment, because she smelled like vanilla and something spicier all at once. I inhaled again, and as I leaned forward my lips brushed her cheek again.

  “Clay,” she said in a ragged whisper.

  My other hand drifted around to smooth the hair out of her face.

  “Paige,” I replied softly.

  “What are you doing?” Her voice was barely audible.

  Her mesmerizing green eyes still had me frozen, and a battle raged inside me. Half of me wanted to take her face in my hands and kiss her until the sun came up. The other half told me it would be a mistake, that I would send her running. The side of me that lacked self-control won, and I closed my eyes as I leaned forward to press my lips against hers.

  Paige

  When Clay kissed me, warning bells and fireworks shot off in my body simultaneously. One side of me told me that this was wrong, and that I should stop him. The other side of me told the more sensible side to shut the hell up. The bag of ice dropped onto the floor, forgotten. His hands were placed on either side of my face, and my burns tingled where he touched them. I had never let anyone touch me there. He was the first person to try. His hands were warm and smooth, and they healed a part of me that the skin grafts and surgeries hadn’t been able to touch.

  Then there was the fire growing larger deep within my belly, spreading heat throughout my lower body like flames were ripping through me. I almost couldn’t stand it.

  All the while Clay’s lips moved gently over mine, and I was trying to muster the courage to push him away.

  I never found that gumption, because I didn’t really want to.

  He finally broke the kiss, pulling away slowly, taking a nibble of my bottom lip along with him. I gasped, and his eyes widened.

  “You can’t do that to me,” he whispered, leaning his forehead against mine.

  “Do what?” My voice was barely there, and my hands gripped his hard biceps to keep myself steady.

  “Gasp like that. I almost couldn’t let go.”

  “What if I don’t want you to let go?”

  I didn’t mean to say it; the words just fell out of my mouth like stones. I bit my bottom lip, but couldn’t take them back.

  He pulled back a little more and brushed the hair aside that had once more fallen over my eye.

  “P
aige…this is crazy. The way you make me feel is…monumental. This has never happened to me before. What are you doing to me?”

  Instead of answering, I leaned forward again and kissed him. Hungrily, this time, and more intense. There was so much I couldn’t tell him, but that wasn’t to say I couldn’t show him. I put all the feelings I could muster into that kiss; the attraction I was harboring toward him, the fact that I wanted him to break down the walls I had so carefully built all around me. The pain I had stewing inside of me at all times took a backseat, but I knew he could feel it in my kiss as strongly as he could feel my passion for him.

  His arms went around my waist, and he lifted me up until I was straddling his lap. I kissed him all the more fiercely, tangling my hands in his hair and tugging softly.

  He groaned against my lips, and my eyes flew open. I scrambled off his lap and took the seat next to him, breathing heavily.

  He reached out and grabbed my hand so that I couldn’t escape too far, and turned to face me.

  “I felt that,” he said. “Don’t try to pull away from me now. That kiss told me everything I needed to know.”

  I stared at him in wonder. “What did you need to know?”

  “That you feel the same way I do.”

  Eleven

  Clay

  I lay awake that night, staring at my ceiling. Thinking about Paige and the fervor with which she had kissed me. Before the night I danced with her at the Kappa Sig party, I thought that maybe my feelings were one-sided and that I would have to work really hard to get her to see me as anything more than an annoyance.

  The heat between us that night had proven to me that we had chemistry. But would that chemistry turn into anything more? I didn’t know if Paige would allow it to get that far.

  I was wrong.

  She wanted to be with me. She ached for it, just as badly as I did. I experienced everything she was feeling with that kiss.

  Her lips on mine…it was epic. Like a fantasy I didn’t even know I had. My lips were still tender and tingling from that kiss. I wanted more.

  I was missing something, though, when it came to Paige Hill. Even though there was an underlying sense of familiarity between us, I didn’t really know her. That was, in part, due to an insistence on her part to keep me shut out. I wondered why that was. What had she been through that had hurt her so badly she wasn’t willing to share any of it?

  If I wanted to be with Paige, really be with her, I was going to have to get her to open up to me.

  I would start by being there for her when she needed me. By showing her that she could trust me.

  If I were trustworthy, then maybe she would give me the gift of knowledge. Somehow, I knew that knowledge and understanding was the key to her heart.

  I picked up my phone from the pillow next to me, intending to text her.

  Clay: I need to see you again.

  I only had to wait a minute before being rewarded with a return text.

  Paige: When?

  Clay: tomorrow?

  This time, I waited a few moments for her response. My stomach bunched itself into an anxious knot and I twisted the phone in my hands, wondering if she’d be willing, or if she’d withdraw back into her shell.

  Ding. I flipped the phone over.

  Paige: What if I made you dinner?

  I couldn’t stop the grin from spreading across my face. She wanted to make me dinner.

  My fingers fumbled for the right keys to text her back.

  Clay: I’m counting the minutes. See you around eight…gonna sit through practice first and then I’ll be over.

  I plugged my phone into its charger and fell asleep with an anticipatory smile on my face.

  Paige

  The day following my kiss with Clay, I attended my early morning Theater Appreciation class. I wasn’t particularly interested in theater, but it was an undergraduate requirement, and I chose it over any of the other appreciations offered.

  When I walked into the room, a small classroom greeted me. So far, I had only attended classes in lecture halls, and the close proximity with the other students and professor startled me. Without paying much attention to the small sea of faces already occupying the room, I chose an empty desk in the middle of a row on the far end, near the row of windows. I was reaching into my backpack for a notebook when I heard it.

  “It seems my future hubby is feeling the need to sow his wild oats with freshman sluts these days.”

  The loud hiss prickled the fine hairs on the back of my neck.

  I turned around at the harshness in the voice, and my eyes met furious blue ones seated behind me.

  It was Hannah, the girl from Clay’s apartment party a couple of weeks ago.

  Crap.

  I thought I’d never see the girl again, much less have to deal with her in class.

  And deal with her hostility toward me, which I didn’t even deserve.

  I quickly turned back around in my seat, not wanting an argument here.

  The whispering continued.

  “And just any old girl will do, really. Clay isn’t picky when he’s on one of his tangents.”

  My ears burned with embarrassment, but I refused to turn around again.

  The professor strolled into the room then, putting a stop to any more snide comments whispered behind my back from Hannah.

  But I had to endure fifty minutes of the burning sensation her eyes caused in the back of my neck as she stared me down the entire class period.

  When the professor dismissed us, I grabbed my bag and all but ran from the building.

  Not quickly enough.

  “Running away, are we?” Hannah called out behind me as I hurried down the steps of the building.

  I paused, and turned around slowly, my heart seeming to pound a dent in my chest.

  This bitch wasn’t aware of the fact that I had a limit to my very fiery temper, and that she was about to reach it.

  “Look, if you have a problem, it’s probably something you need to speak with Clay about,” I spat.

  She smiled, her bright red hair glistening in the morning sunlight. She would be really beautiful, if the ugly sneer covering her face didn’t ruin it.

  “I don’t need you to instruct me on what to talk to my boyfriend about.”

  She smiled meanly and took a sip from the plastic cup in her hand. “We have plenty of topics for discussion, thank you. When we bother to talk, that is.”

  “Good,” I replied, narrowing my eyes at her. “Then you can leave me alone.”

  She raised an eyebrow, maybe at the daring in the lift of my chin as I faced off with her.

  “Do you think you actually have a chance with Clay? Because you don’t, you know. You’re not the only girl who’s tried. They all fail. He always comes back to me.”

  I studied her, pondering her revelation. Had I misread Clay’s intentions toward me? I thought everything had changed last night, but maybe this was something he did often. I knew he was a player before I let him kiss me last night, yet I still let him get close. Was it a mistake?

  Or was Hannah just a jealous witch who wanted more than Clay was able to give her?

  “Your insecurity is showing, Hannah,” I shot back.

  My blood was beginning to bubble, and I needed to slow down because that wouldn’t be good for her or me. I took a deep breath, closing my eyes briefly.

  “What’s wrong with you?” she asked suspiciously.

  I ignored her, continuing to count backward from ten.

  Hannah cleared her throat loudly. “Does Clay know he’s gotten involved with a crazy one this time? Hello? Can you even hear me?”

  A strong hand clasped my shoulder then, and a male voice said, “Back off, Hannah.”

  Her eyes narrowed into slits as she looked at the person standing next to me.

  “You back off, Rob. Mind your own business,” she snapped.

  “Clay’s business is my business,” he retorted.

  He tightened his hand on my
shoulder reassuringly. “Don’t you have other people to harass today?”