Slow Burn (Into The Fire Book 2)

by J. H. Croix

  “Lorrie! It’s me.”

  Her front door opened into a cozy living room with a large stone fireplace to one side and a small dining area to the other. The kitchen was through an alcove behind the dining area. I hung my jacket by the door and walked to the circular dining table, setting down the bag of goodies I’d brought for her. As I was starting a pot of coffee, I heard her footsteps finally and glanced over my shoulder.

  “Hey girl,” Lorrie said as she reached me and gave me a quick side hug and a peck on the cheek. She turned back to the table and opened the bag. “Oh heaven! You brought hombows and piroshkies.”

  Lorrie loved Pike’s Place Market in downtown Seattle and whenever I went to see her, I made sure to stock up on a few of her favorite baked goods. She loved hombows, which were an Asian stuffed roll, and piroshkies, a Russian baked good, filled with salmon and cream cheese. I’d also brought fresh bread from one of her favorite bakeries.

  “There’s more. Look in the bottom of the bag. I got some black olive bread and spicy chipotle bread for you.” I tapped the start button on the coffee maker and slipped into the chair across from her.

  Lorrie’s dark curls, so like my mother’s and mine, were streaked with silver. She had them tied back in a loose braid. Her brown eyes crinkled at the corners with her smile. “Well, how’s life in the big city?”

  I shrugged. “Same, same. Busy with work mostly.” My reply was what I’d usually say because that was my life for the most part. Except now there was Liam, but I didn’t quite know how to talk about him, or how to describe what we were to each other. Just trying made me feel as if I was casting in the dark. I was so unaccustomed to the whims of my emotions tossing me this way and that.

  Lorrie absently twirled the end of her braid and eyed me. “Did you happen to see the paper online today?”

  Her question threw me. “Huh? No, but I hardly ever do. Why do you ask?”

  Lorrie stood and walked over to the coffee table, returning with a newspaper. Sitting down, she flipped through it and spun it around, pointing at a photo. “I doubt anyone else would notice because it’s not a good angle, but that sure looks like you.”

  The photo in question was of me and Liam, taken the night before when we’d been out to dinner. By the grace of dim lighting and no good possibility for a clear view through the restaurant’s window, my face was partially in shadow. Liam had been seated facing the window and was easily recognizable. The caption under the photo said: Who’s the mystery woman with Liam Reed, Britain’s famous footballer and Seattle’s new soccer star? Of course, this was on the local gossip page of Seattle’s biggest newspaper. Under the photo and blurb was a snippet about the betting books in London on Liam and his impossible to guess at love life.

  My stomach turned in dread-filled flip and my cheeks flamed scarlet. I knew I couldn’t sidestep this with Lorrie, so I gathered myself and looked over at her. “That’s me.” I put my face in my hands and sighed. “I can’t believe this. What if someone else sees that and figures out it’s me? I don’t know what I was thinking.” I lifted my face and swatted a loose curl out of my eyes, my mind spinning. Few people read the physical paper like Lorrie, but everything here would be online with the wonderful comments section in addition. Just thinking about what else might be said made me want to cry. If anyone guessed it was me, I’d be facing plenty of trouble.

  Lorrie angled her head to the side, her eyes concerned. “Hon, it’s not likely anyone else will be able to tell that’s you, except maybe Daisy or Harper. What’s got your so worried? I was actually happy to see you finally went on a date. Not because he’s some kind of soccer star, but because it’d be nice to see you have a social life.”

  The coffee maker beeped, and Lorrie quickly stood and stepped to the counter to pour two cups of coffee. I curled my hands around the mug she handed me and took a long swallow, savoring the rich, bitter flavor. “I’m worried because I shouldn’t have gone anywhere with him. Technically, he’s a former patient, but I operated on him and he’s still under the care of the rehab team at the clinic. I’m so stupid,” I said with a sigh. Internally, I cringed. Because I had been so ridiculously stupid. I knew better than to cross the lines, but I’d played hopscotch and jumped past every line there was. I was a muddle inside with wishing I’d had the fortitude to steer clear of Liam, the intensity of my feelings for him, the scorching desire between us, and the reality that I needed to take a giant step back and fast before I got in any deeper than I already was.

  Lorrie’s eyes widened slightly. She was quiet for a moment, taking a sip of her coffee and watching me thoughtfully. “Okay, well, I’m not going to tell you it was the brightest idea. It’s a bit of a sticky wicket, but I think you’re okay. Even if it wasn’t that long ago, he’s not your patient now and you didn’t have a personal relationship with him before the surgery. Right?”

  I nodded, anxiety tightening into a knot in my chest.

  Lorrie lifted one shoulder in a slow shrug. “Technically, you’re clear. The clinic might think otherwise and there might be clinic policies about this, but don’t make trouble where there isn’t any yet. It’ll probably blow over and nothing will come of it.” She paused to take another sip of coffee, her mouth curling in a smile when she set it down. “I gotta say, you’re an overachiever at everything. You finally break your years long dating drought with the hottest guy in Seattle. Or at least that’s how the gossip pages describe him. What’s the status with you two anyway?”

  My cheeks were so hot, I needed a fan. Instead, I took a gulp of hot coffee and shrugged. “That’s kind of the problem. I don’t know what to think. None of this would’ve happened if Liam hadn’t been so damn persistent. I finally caved and went to dinner with him a few weeks back and then again last night. He’s completely out of my league, and I have no idea what he sees in me.”

  Lorrie shook her head sadly. “Hon, you’re gorgeous, you just never even let yourself think about much other than academics and now your job. As far as I’m concerned, he’s a smart man if he saw past your prickly, cold exterior.”

  “What do you mean prickly and cold?” I asked, feeling slightly defensive.

  “I see how you are. You barely give any man a second glance and you’re so focused on work, you let it take over your life. A little scandal wouldn’t be a bad thing.”

  My mouth fell open. “Oh my God. You think a little scandal would be good? You’re as bad as Daisy!”

  “We both happen to love you to pieces. Ever since your parents died, you’ve shut down. You used to be a carefree girl. It makes perfect sense that you wouldn’t feel so carefree after what happened, but I’ve hoped for a long time that you might loosen up a bit. Tell me what Liam’s like.”

  I was reeling at her comments, but I wasn’t sure how to respond. I could, however, handle telling her about Liam. “He’s funny, he’s nice… It’s weird seeing news stuff about him because I read stuff like that and it’s like he’s this hotshot sports star. I guess he is, but in person he’s just a guy. So there’s that and then the mess I’ve made for myself professionally. I can’t believe I let this happen.” I adjusted my glasses, anxiety knotting in my chest.

  “You like him,” Lorrie said softly.

  My throat tightened at her words. I was starting to fear my feelings were a lot more than like. I took a breath and another gulp of coffee before nodding. “I guess I do. I don’t like being in the gossip pages though. It feels like my life was invaded, and no one even knows who I am.”

  “I doubt anyone likes being in the gossip pages. If they do, they’re a reality star and then someday they’ll wake up from the nightmare of that,” Lorrie said wryly. She reached across the table and squeezed my hand. “Don’t worry about that stupid photo. It won’t go anywhere. I’d like to meet your Liam.”

  “He’s not my Liam.” My reply was reflexive, yet I didn’t know what to make of Lorrie’s quick perception of how much Liam mattered to me.

  Lorrie grinned. “Whatever.
I’ll be in Seattle next month for a nursing conference.”

  ***

  I drove back to Seattle late that afternoon, worries about Liam, my poor decision to let myself get involved with him, and that stupid photo lodged firmly in my brain. I’d managed to shove my worries away for the rest of my visit with Lorrie, but alone in the car, it had taken no more than a few minutes for me to turn a photo, which likely no one other than Lorrie had connected to me, into an epic nightmare in my brain. My brain was flipping back and forth between that and wondering when I’d see Liam again.

  Waking up beside him was pure heaven. I’d woken to find myself twined against him with my leg tossed over his, my foot tucked between his calves and my body plastered against his side. I tended toward getting cold when I slept, but with Liam as my personal heater, I was warm and toasty. His black locks had been rumpled and his body of all muscle so tempting, I’d nearly climbed atop him. When I’d unconsciously started to explore his muscled chest—because what else was I to do with his delectable body right there?—he’d turned his head to the side, a slow smile curling his lips and his sleepy blue gaze sending a hot shiver through me. One look from him literally curled my toes.

  “Good morning, luv,” he’d said, his eyes dipping down as he rolled slightly to the side and trailed a hand over the dip of my waist and curve of my hip. He’d proceeded to drive me to near incoherence within minutes. We’d used yet another of the condoms Daisy had generously scattered about my apartment. She’d stopped by a few days after our dinner date and distributed an entire box.

  A horn honked from behind me on the interstate, jolting my thoughts off of Liam. I glanced up and realized I was about to drive past my exit. I changed lanes and exited off the highway. Within another few minutes, I reached my apartment door and found it unlocked, immediately figuring Daisy was inside. We had keys to each other’s places. I was less likely to stop by hers, solely because I wasn’t often in the area unless I was specifically going to see her. Meanwhile, her job and the gym we both used were close to my place. When I opened the door, she was standing at the kitchen counter, twirling her keys on her index finger and talking on the phone.

  She waved at me as I slipped out of my shoes and hung up my jacket. She ended her call and plunked down on the couch as I stepped into the kitchen to pour a glass of wine.

  “Wine?” I called out.

  “Sure. Wanna order takeout?” Before I managed to answer, she continued as if she was conversing with herself. “We should call Harper and tell her to come by. We haven’t had a girls’ night-in in forever. She called and said she’d be over this way for some meeting this afternoon.”

  I carried our two glasses of wine over to the couch, handing one to Daisy and sitting down. “Girls’ night-in sounds good to me.” We’d coined that term during college when we needed to study and wanted company. The three of us would spread dinner out on whatever empty surfaces were available and study into the wee hours of the morning. We didn’t need to study anymore, but we still tried to get together like that every so often. I’d been resisting the urge to see Liam and could seriously use some advice, so it was perfect. “I’ll call Harper, you order takeout.”

  Daisy took a swallow of her wine and twirled the glass slowly in her hand. “Anything you want?”

  “You pick.”

  “Okay, then it’s pizza. It’s shark week for me, so I need carbs and cheese.”

  ‘Shark week’ was shorthand for that time of the month. We’d simultaneously come up with the nickname one summer when we were deep into studying for board exams and the nature channel’s week long special on sharks happened to be on.

  I slipped my phone out of my pocket to call Harper. “Pizza works for me. I don’t need an excuse.”

  Hours later, the three of us were lounging on the couch in half comas from the food and wine. I’d yet to bring up the photo in the paper and likely all over the place online because I didn’t like thinking about it. They’d teased me about Liam, but otherwise Harper had a mini family crisis with her mother in the midst of chemo for breast cancer and in a rough patch, so our conversation had been focused elsewhere. We’d moved onto lighter topics, and I was relaxed enough that I finally got up the nerve to say something.

  “Did either one of you see the paper or the news online today?” I asked.

  Harper rolled her head to the side on the back of the couch, her eyes curious. “You mean the Seattle Observer?”

  I nodded as she shook her head. “No. Any reason you’re asking?”

  Daisy glanced to me as well, arching a brow. “Is this a current events quiz?”

  I rolled my eyes. “God no. Anyway, I went out to see Lorrie today and there’s a photo of me with Liam in there. You can’t really tell it’s me, but I don’t know what the hell to do.”

  Harper straightened and Daisy sat up with a squeal. “Oh this is awesome! You and Liam are news.”

  “How is this awesome? I’m not news yet because you can barely see me, and I’d rather it stays that way. My God, it’s not the best move for me to even be with him, much less end up in the gossip pages.”

  Daisy waved a hand dismissively. “If you’re going to be so freaked out over your job, you should just go tell Dr. Adams you went out to dinner with Liam. She’ll give you some crap about it and then you can stop worrying. They won’t fire you. It’d be one thing if Liam filed a complaint, but it’s not like that’s happening. No way. You’re the best surgeon they have, and you’ve had too many high-profile cases with glowing recommendations. I know you don’t like thinking about it this way, but you’re a moneymaker for them.”

  Harper nodded along with Daisy’s words. I looked between them. “You really think I should tell her?”

  Dr. Helen Adams was my direct supervisor at the clinic. She’d recruited me straight out of med school. I respected her immensely and felt lucky to have a boss I actually liked as well. She’d stopped doing surgeries a year ago after she developed arthritis in one of her hands. She consulted on cases all over the world. As crazy as part of me thought Daisy’s idea was, it might keep me from driving myself mad with worry over the whole thing. I had enough to juggle in my brain—and heart—when it came to Liam.

  Harper spoke up. “I do. You’re going to drive yourself nuts if you don’t. You can’t really undo the fact you’ve had dinner with him twice and…”

  “Screwed his brains out,” Daisy interjected with a grin.

  Harper rolled her eyes and continued. “You’re going to be all paranoid about it even if you don’t keep seeing him. If you do keep seeing him, there will definitely be more photos like that. He’s a public figure whether you like it or not. If you talk to Dr. Adams now, you can head off the whole mess becoming a scandal.”

  I leaned back into the couch again and looked between them. “Huh? Well, maybe I will. I’ll think about it.”

  “In the meantime, bets on how long it takes the rumor mill to name you?” Daisy asked with a sly grin.

  “It’s not funny! I don’t like this. I still can’t figure out how I ended up here. We don’t exactly have anything in common, and I don’t know…”

  A balled up napkin bounced off my head. “Stop it! You’re just putting up barriers. If you ask me, you’re scared because someone got under your iron skin,” Daisy declared.

  Harper laughed softly. “Okay, a bit harsh, but kinda true.”

  “Fine. Either way, he’s a world-famous sports star and I’m a doctor. I mean, they have official bets on when he’ll get hitched to someone. That’s is so not the kind of guy I should throw my career on the line for. It’s insane,” I said.

  Daisy shrugged. “He’s just a guy. ‘Should’ doesn’t really matter, and it’s silly anyway to say who should fall for who. Maybe he is famous, and obviously he’s hella good at soccer, but I liked him when I met him. He’s funny and nice and pretty damn normal.” She glanced to Harper. “You should meet him. You’re our barometer.”

  This time Harper rolled her
eyes. “That’s silly. I’d like to meet him though. Any guy that’s got you all in a dither is worth meeting.”

  “I’m in a dither?”

  Daisy and Harper’s gazes swung to me in unison. “Uh, yeah. Your eyes go all dreamy half the time now,” Daisy said with a choked laugh.

  My cheeks got hot, and I took a gulp of wine. Dreamy. As much as I wanted to argue the point, I knew it to be true, and it terrified me.

  Chapter 21

  Liam

  I walked down the hall at the stadium, heading to Coach’s office for a meeting. I figured he wanted to check in about my status. I knew he spoke regularly with Tim and Dr. Monroe. As far as I was concerned, if he wanted to put me on the field sooner than the agreed upon full three months since my surgery, I was ready. It was over a month and a half since Olivia worked her magic on my knee, and I felt good. When I did my PT, there was no lingering pain. The only time I noticed anything was when I first woke up. It was like I needed a bit of grease to oil the joint, and a hot shower did the trick. I’d tried to cajole Tim into bumping up the timeframe, but he was a stubborn bloke, or so I was learning. He insisted my knee needed to be ready for the potential for abrupt motion and was starting on me on a new series of exercises to simulate what my knee would go through during play.

  My footsteps were the only sound as I walked along the concrete floors. I loved being in stadiums when they were mostly empty. The spaces felt like hallowed ground then, when the crescendo of the crowds was nothing more than a distant echo, but the feeling I got from playing beat like a drum inside me in the quiet. Coach’s door was open, but I paused beside it and rapped my knuckles. He looked up from his computer and waved me in.

  “Come on in, Liam. Have a seat,” he said, gesturing to the chair on the opposite side of his desk.

  I sat down and leaned back in my chair. Coach angled his head to the side, his perceptive gaze holding mine. After a moment of quiet, he spoke. “I hear from Tim that you might be ahead of schedule with your recovery. He tells me you’re pushing him to clear you to return sooner.”