Page 36 of From the Wreckage

Brielle

By the time I push the front door open, my whole body is still humming. My lips are swollen from Everett’s kiss, my pulse pounding so hard I’m sure it echoes through the quiet cabin.

I close the door softly behind me, pressing my back against it for a second to catch my breath. The taste of him lingers, the heat of his hands still burning into my skin. God, the way he looked at me in the truck… Like he was one second from pulling over and making good on his threat.

I’ve never felt so alive.

“Bri?” Dad’s voice floats from the kitchen.

I jolt upright, smoothing my hair with trembling fingers before heading in his direction. He’s washing his hands, sweat still clinging to his skin.

“Hey,” I say, forcing my tone to be casual. “How are things?”

“Good. Everett and I kicked ass today.” He grins, drying his hands. “The man is a huge help. I’ll have to show you what we did tomorrow. Too dark to appreciate it now.”

I try not to react to Everett’s name. “That’s great.”

Dad’s eyes narrow slightly as he studies me. “Why were you and Meghan at the bookstore?”

My mouth goes dry. I move to the fridge, gripping the handle like it’s a lifeline, praying he doesn’t notice the way my hands are shaking. “New thriller just dropped on Tuesday, but sold out immediately. We decided to check to see if it was back in stock.”

“Ah.” He nods, accepting it easily enough, but the guilt twinges in my chest anyway. I grab a bottle of water, twisting the cap with fingers that ache to touch Everett again.

“Did the two of you have fun?” Dad asks, drying off the sink.

I picture Everett and me in his bed last night and waking up in his arms this morning. “Yeah.” The lie slides out too smoothly. “We grabbed coffee, talked… You know. Girl stuff.” The guilt is like a knife in my chest. I don’t remember the last time I lied to my dad.

He smiles faintly. “Good. Glad you’re getting some girl time in.”

I murmur a reply, then retreat to my room as fast as I can without looking suspicious. The second the door clicks shut behind me, I drop onto my bed, pressing the cool bottle of water to my heated skin.

My necklace shifts against my collarbone, the little sunflower pendant warm from my skin. I touch it, my chest tightening. The memory of him giving it to me hits hard.

And then I’m grinning like an idiot, rolling onto my back as the memory of his hands on me floods my head. The hunger in his eyes when he drove himself inside me. The way he touched me, looked at me.

I stare at the ceiling. The jealousy over the guy talking to me in the coffee shop, the possessive growl in his voice, was sexy as hell.

I grab my phone, hesitating for a second before typing.

Me: I’m still buzzing. Can’t stop thinking about you.

The dots appear almost instantly, and I bite my lip, my stomach swooping.

Everett: You think you’re buzzing, angel? I’m ready to burn this whole damn world down just to have you again.

Heat surges through me, fierce and wild. My legs squeeze together as I clutch the phone to my chest, breathless.

This isn’t normal. This isn’t safe.

But nothing’s ever felt so right.