Page 23 of Fire

“What? Why?” I blurt out. Why do I feel so nervous around this man? I’ve tutored dozens of people, and none of them has ever made me feel this…anxious.

Like, I have no idea what he will do from one second to the next.

I can’t tell if it’s a good thing or a bad thing.

“Because I wanted to.” He simply shrugs and produces a tiny blue box from his pocket.

My eyes widen as I look up at him. “No,” I find myself saying. “It’s too much.”

He laughs as if he finds this notion ridiculous. “It’s not.” And when he opens the lid and I see the tiny gold T staring back at me, I feel my insides melt. “And it would mean the world to me if you wore it.”

Was anything between us real?

Hendrix must sense the turmoil in my gaze because he suddenly shifts the conversation and blurts out, “I want to offer you a job.”

Did he say…

“A job?” I give him a puzzling stare. “You do remember what I do for a living, right?”

“Yeah, I know. That’s exactly why I’m here. I’m looking for a doctor, and I want you.” The last part of that sentence sends a shiver up my spine. He said something similar the other night.

God, I want you, Zara.

“For what, exactly?” I clear my throat. Is it hot in here?

“To go on tour with me.”

My eyes widen. “Like a concert tour.”

He nods.

“The loud kind, right? Not the string quartet kind?”

“Yeah, definitely the loud kind.” He smirks.

“For how long?”

“Five months.”

“Five months!” I screech before adding, “Wait, with who?”Please say Taylor Swift. Please say Taylor Swift.

“Manic at Midnight.”

Dammit. I figured he was going to say that. Their music is catchy, and that Scottish lead singer is hot as hell, but who wouldn’t wish it were Taylor? She’s iconic. Wait…

“You’re in Manic at Midnight?”

“No.”

I stare at him, confused. Finally, he answers. “I’m a hired gun for the tour.” I double-blink, confused again. “I’m filling in for the bass guitarist, Evans. He’s taking a leave of absence. Personal stuff, I guess.”

So Hendrix would be there. Five whole months of…

This is insane. “I can’t just up and leave.” He looks at me with a raised brow, as if he’s waiting for me to finish that sentence, and I’m trying. I really am, but I’m coming up empty because, in the last six months, my life has turned into a bit of a shitshow. “I can’t leave…my sister.”

“Your sister? The traveling model?”

Dammit. I forgot I mentioned her on Saturday. He licks his bottom lip, clearly trying to stifle his amusement.