Burning Through Gravity

  I watch as he coolly walks toward the door.

  Ford Cannon would rather be with me.

  A satisfied smile blooms on my lips.

  I’ll have Ford with a cherry on top of the next carnal ice cream Sunday we share. Evelyn Perkins will never know what hit her.

  I never said I was above throwing the spaghetti to the wall and seeing what sticks.

  Lincoln catches my eye as he continues to scroll through my phone.

  I might have Ford for a minute, but once he finds out what I’m up to, he’ll be right back in Evilyn’s twisted claws, wishing he never went to the party that night—wishing he never knew my name.

  Claire would have handled this entire mess a whole lot better. Claire would never be knee-deep in revenge-based warfare with a man she’s clearly falling for.

  I wonder if that’s why she never bothered to contact me from the great beyond like she promised?

  I wasn’t really worth the effort.

  Ford

  The weekend drags by with Carson inviting me to every party this side of San Diego and Evelyn vying for a reprisal of Friday night’s pasta disaster. The waiter who left a tomato stain on our date should have been rewarded, hell, I should have tipped him as I left the restaurant, almost did.

  A brisk knock erupts over the door, and I spring up, hopeful it might be Stevie. It’s not. It’s Carter.

  “Come in.”

  We head to the sofa, and I turn down the volume on the game taking over the living room. I’ve always been a fan of college football, not so big on the pros, so I shut it off.

  “What gives?” I lift my feet back onto the coffee table.

  “Jinx gives.” He taps his shin, and the cat pounces to him. “And I’m not talking about this one. Marvel Media and Virtuoso both made soft offers this afternoon.”

  “Bidding for my soul on a Sunday?” I shake my head at how fucked up that feels. “I must be in the gallows and not even know it. Who the hell’s Virtuoso?” We’ve all heard of Marvel Media. Next to Merlin, they’re the only real competition out there.

  “New kid on the block—lots of dough to back them. They’re not firing empty cannons—and the pun is intentional. We need to reload and reload quick.”

  “I’ve got nothing.”

  “You’ve got an army working for you—innovative people with great ideas. Find one that works and implement it. Yesterday.”

  “Easier said than done, baby bro.” I lean back hard and squeeze my eyes shut tight. My father was a brilliant man who could have untangled this knot if given half a chance. It’s times like this I miss him most. He’d probably tell me to put out the biggest fire first. A thought comes to me. “Why didn’t Merlin make an offer?” That old fart has been after me for a solid year, even invited me to his big summer bash last month. I thought it might happen then, that very night. I envisioned him leading me into some secret boardroom and me signing away the rights to everything I own, including my sanity because I was so drunk off my ass. That’s specifically why I didn’t touch a drop that night. About halfway to the venue, I had my driver pull off at his favorite bar and gave him money for the cab ride home. I drove myself there in the Town Car. I figured it would force me to stay sober knowing I had to arrive from point A to point B without a DUI. It was a first for me because I’ve never been sober for one of those events. I thought I’d hate the party even more, but I should write that old crotch a thank you note. That party led to the best two weeks of my life—the best person in my life—Stevie.

  “You’re thinking about her again, aren’t you?” Carter has his arms folded in judgment and that you’re-a-stupid-fuck look on his face.

  “Can’t help it. She’s got this thing where she won’t see me until I flush things out with Evelyn.”

  “What?”

  “She wants me to, you know—give it a shot with Evelyn and see where it goes. If it dead-ends, she says she’s in.”

  “Wait a minute. Stevie asked you to see Evelyn? After what you said happened at Shipwrecks?” He shakes his head. “Doesn’t make sense.”

  “That’s what I thought.” I blow out a breath. “But nothing about Stevie makes sense to me. That’s a woman for you, right?”

  “Something is up. Why would a girl who’s interested in you tell you to try to patch things up with your ex?”

  I rack my brain for a decent answer.

  “I may have told her Evelyn and I were together about a month ago.” I hold up a hand. “I know—I’m a stupid fuck.”

  “You got that right. Never, and I mean never, tell a woman that you’ve just rolled out of another bed.”

  “Is that what happened with you and Aspen?” Every time Stevie talks about her sister, Carter’s face lights up like a flare. I don’t remember him half that giddy over his ex.

  “Never mind what happened with me and Aspen.” His voice fades considerably as he says her name. He looks up—his eyes wide with disbelief. “That’s it. Stevie is telling you to connect with Evelyn so she can drive you insane.”

  “What?” Even if Carter somehow managed to break Stevie’s Morse code, I’ll still need a caveman’s roadmap to understand it.

  “Why else would a woman in her right mind tell you to hook up with your ex to see if the sparks are still flying? She knows it’ll make you want what you can’t have.”

  I think on it for a minute. It’s true I want Stevie bad, and it makes me ache right down to my blue balls that she’s not an easy one to pin down—at least not anymore. I’d give anything if I could go back in time and relive each delicious moment with Stevie melting in my mouth. I’d start with the truth right there at the party.

  “You really think she’d do that? She doesn’t strike me as the head game type.”

  “She’s not. Stevie has always been a straight shooter—at least from what I saw of her. I don’t know her that well. She’s always been Aspen’s slightly scary little sister.”

  “So what’s the story with Aspen?” I know for a fact she’s married. Stevie mentioned something about it when we were together. When we were together—that phrase sticks in my mind like the haunting chorus to some sappy country song. That’s what we’ve become, the clichéd lyrics to some chart topping twang.

  The doorbell rings three times in quick succession.

  “Saved by the bell.” Carter darts across the room, and I follow like a lovesick puppy hoping for Stevie’s beautiful face to appear on the other side—but it’s not.

  “Evelyn.” Carter grins as he looks from her to me. “I was just leaving. Nice to see you coming around again.”

  “Maybe this time it’ll stick.” She waves a bottle of wine my way before strutting over in a pair of sky-high heels that bring us eye-to-eye. She’s got her game face on, and a dress that qualifies as a shirt in most establishments. I can’t, for the life of me, believe that Stevie would put me in a frying pan to see how long it took before my dick sizzled. Not that my dick wants anything to do with Evelyn. Both me and my dick are through with her.

  Evelyn trots to the kitchen singing, I’ll get the glasses before I can stop her.

  “Hey,” I nod at Carter until he strays back to the door. “So what should I do? Do I call her out on it?”

  “Stevie?” He says her name lower than a whisper. “Yes. Be honest and talk to her about it. Let her know how you feel and, whatever you do, don’t spend one minute screwing around with head games.” He nods in Evelyn’s direction when he says it. “They backfire each and every time.” He closes his eyes a moment. “I should know.”

  “Got it.” He takes off, and I head back in just as my phone rings. It’s Stevie. Holy hell.

  “Hello?” My voice spikes like a thirteen-year-old with a boner. That about sums me up around Stevie.

  “Hi, um—” her sweet voice vibrates into my ear, and I savor it. “I was just thinking about you.”

  My heart slams against my chest, and a vision of my dad dropping to his knees floats through my mind. Wrong moment. I flush him
back out.

  “That’s funny I was just thinking about you.” Because I do it all the fucking time, but I leave that part out.

  “Crawford?” Evelyn’s voice wails through the house like a bullhorn. “Do you have any cheese in the downstairs fridge?” She clicks her way into the room, and I hold up the phone for a moment before letting myself out onto the porch.

  Shit.

  “Oh—I see you have company.” There’s a trace of a sarcastic drawl in Stevie’s voice, and it burns through me like a blowtorch. “So you were thinking of me, huh? I bet you’re ready to thank me for reigniting that flame between the two of you.” Her voice perks unnaturally, and it makes me want to reach through the phone and land my mouth over hers to show her just what she’s ignited in me—it’s all for her, not a stitch of it for Evelyn, but I can feel my brain taking a U-turn. I never was good at listening to Carter or any of his sensible advice. After all, look where it landed him and the girl of his dreams—married to other people.

  “I do have company.” I relax on my heels. “We were just about to open a bottle of wine. Would you like to join us? I think I still have a bottle of Martinelli’s in the fridge, so you won’t feel too left out.” I try to stop the laugh rattling in my chest.

  “No thanks.” It comes out flat. “I won’t keep you.”

  “Suit yourself.” I chew on the inside of my cheek as my adrenaline spikes. The last thing I want to do is get off the phone with her. “What is it that you called for?”

  “Oh, um, never mind it was stupid.”

  My chest aches at the thought of her feeling bad—at the thought of her agonizing over something that’s not really happening between Evelyn and me.

  “Tell me, Stevie,” I whisper. “I want to know what made you pick up the phone and call me. I want to know all of your thoughts, every last one.” And there it is, I can’t hold up this false wall for one more minute.

  “I thought maybe we could talk about things.” She swallows audibly, and I’m sucker-punched at the thought she might be crying. “Business stuff.” She gives a hard sniff into the phone. “It can wait. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  But I don’t see her the next day.

  Stevie doesn’t show up on Monday, Wednesday, or Friday.

  She doesn’t take any of my calls.

  I think I know what she wanted that night on the phone.

  I think she wanted me.

  5

  Feeling Alive

  Stevie

  Kinsley and Lincoln spent the entire last week trying to bully me into going back to Jinx and resuming operation tear Ford’s heart out by way of his asshole. But I didn’t listen. I went to class then back to my dorm and buried my head under a pillow. Just the thought of seeing Evelyn’s smug face made me want to claw my own eyes out. Bella had a miserable week without me, but she made the best of it by starting up an illicit—and very much forbidden—affair with Jener in the supply closet. I tried telling her that any guy who thinks she’s supply closet worthy is a douche from go, but she’s too busy glowing to listen.

  Nevertheless I’m back, and I’ve dragged both Kinsley and Aspen with me. It’s friends and family week at Jinx. I tried to get Lincoln to join in on the fun, but he was out clubbing all night and could hardly grunt into the phone.

  The grounds are decked out like a carnival, complete with a midway and games equipped with cheesy stuffed animals, purple ponies and four-foot tall stuffed camels with crazy googly eyes. I won’t lie. I want a camel.

  “It’s time to report for duty.” I say from the side of my mouth as if anyone in the crowd cared.

  “With the wicked witch?” Kinsley bops up and down. “Can’t wait to meet her.”

  “You will, but I’m introducing you both as friends. She’s wicked, but she’s not stupid. And have I mentioned paranoid? Or at least she was until I hand fed her to Ford and watched as he took a big giant bite.” I’m sure he washed her down with that bottle of wine they shared. The real reason I called that night was because I was feeling serendipitous and wanted to drag him to Shipwrecks for a repeat performance of those two glorious weeks condensed in just one night. I imagined us breaking into his brother’s beach house by way of a broken window—me in Ford’s arms as we crossed that shard-filled threshold. I’m not above a little breaking and entering when it comes to reliving that insanely delicious time in my life. Whatever ends up happening between Ford and me, I’ll always cherish those weeks. He breathed new life into me in the most literal way. I keep trying to end my life at Shipwrecks and a beautiful boy keeps trying to save me.

  Bella waves from where a crowd is forming. There’s a shallow above ground pool erected behind her, and a couple of fellow interns are busy filling it with blue Jell-O.

  “Blue raspberry!” Kinsley bounces with excitement.

  “Down girl. There’s not a drop of vodka in those cubes. And if Evilyn had a hand in the Kool Aid, it’s probably laced with cyanide. Speaking of the monster…”

  I spot the Evil Queen as she roars something out to Bella before tracking her gaze to me.

  “Brace yourselves, girls. This Wicked Witch of the West doesn’t play nice.”

  Evilyn swoops in so fast I’m half tempted to look for the broom. “Stephanie?” She blinks at me with her eyes ringed with black kohl. Her thick false lashes swoop up and down like moths. “Well”—she frowns, not bothering to hide the fact she’s disappointed in my presence—“it’s good to see you’ve recovered. Areola filled me in on your unexpected condition.” Her features dim. “Good thing you’re still alive and kicking.” Her lids lower, that evil twitch she calls a smile curves on her lips. “I’d hate for you to miss all of the new developments that have taken place while you’ve been away.”

  “Developments,” I parrot back. Bella told me all about Evilyn and Ford’s lunch dates, the way he shows up each morning with her signature java, the way he sat in my chair and made light conversation all the live-long-fucking day. I. Get. It. They’ve reconnected, both on and off the field. She’s probably already moved into his goliath estate, all the closer to share the wine. I’d like to break a bottle over their heads to christen the union.

  A couple of girls hop into the pool full of blue goo, and the crowd erupts in cheers. They’ve donned their requisite Jinx string bikinis, each with a tail attached to the back and a pair of cat ears sunk over their heads. They start going at it, clawing and squealing, slapping their slicked skin over one another, much to the crowd’s delight.

  I turn to Kinsley and Aspen and smirk. “Another day, another cat fight.”

  Evilyn steps out and inspects my sisters. “And who are these lovely young ladies?”

  Everyone is young in comparison to the Evil One. I’ve already surmised she’s about Ford’s age which puts her a good decade ahead of me.

  “My sis—sorority sisters.” I shrug into them. “This is Kinsley, and this is Aspen. Kinsley is the new star of The Fortune of Tomorrow.”

  “I’m sleeping with Dillon Collette later this afternoon.” Kins give a goofy love-struck grin. Should I be worried about the fact she’s sleeping with her married faux-brother?

  “Charming.” Evilyn sneers at me as if I’ve emitted a foul odor.

  “And this is—” Before I can get another word out, Carter appears with Ford by his side.

  “Aspen.” Carter stares into her eyes as if he’s fallen into a field of poppies, and any minute I think he’s going to have a real live wet dream that will prove to be far more entertaining than anything that tub of Jell-O can provide. “You look beautiful.”

  “Really?” Kinsley drops the sunglasses from the top of her head until they settle on her nose. “Because she looks married to me.” For whatever reason Kinsley likes Henry the Tool.

  Aspen glowers at Kins before stepping away with Carter. My stomach pinches at how cute they are. How in the hell did two people who were clearly meant to be together end up with the wrong partners in life?

  I turn and rake my eyes o
ver Ford. I haven’t seen him in a good week. My entire body wants to bend to him the way a dying plant twists toward the sun.

  “Stephanie.” His lips expand in a brief grin. “You look well. Arabella said you were feeling under the weather. I’m glad to see you back at Jinx where you belong.” He’s playing it cool because of Kins. He’s pretending he never called a thousand times, begging me to pick up the phone. But why all the lunches? All the chit chat sessions with Evelyn? Unless of course… unless he’s turning the tables.

  I cut an uneasy glance to Kinsley before meeting his gaze again.

  “Why, I am feeling better—so much so that I’d jump in that vat of sugar and wrestle you to the ground to prove it.”

  Evilyn appears from nowhere.

  “What did you say?” Her dark eyes narrow like the closing of the gates of hell.

  Crap. I whimper and hate myself for it.

  “I said, I’m so healthy I can—”

  “I heard you.” She steps in further with her lids slit to nothing. A horrible idea percolates in that wicked brain of hers. I can smell it sizzling like flesh over an open fire—my flesh to be exact. “I think jumping in that vat of sugar is the best idea you’ve had yet.” Her lips expand like the lancing of a wound. “After the girls from HR finish up, I think you and Arabella should do just that.”

  It’s the first time she hasn’t referenced Bella as a slightly vulgar body part, and I know why. I glance to Ford.

  “You want me to what?” God—she can’t be serious. For one, I’m wearing a slightly translucent white silk top that Kinsley swore showed just enough skin to make Ford want to take a peek inside, not to mention a pair of white matching Seven jeans.

  Evilyn eyes my outfit as if reading my mind. She’s such an obvious bitch.

  “Wrestle.” She snarls it out so fast it sounds like a growl from an overgrown land mammal—oh, wait, she is one. Too-tall Evilyn belongs in a cage.

  “Did someone say wrestle?” Bella hops over with a goofy grin on her face. “I choose Jener with one n.” She says it loud enough for him to hear, and he mock dives into the pool. God, this just gets worse. Doesn’t she know she’s going to give the evil monster the exact fuel to kick her out of the program? I’ll have to go over the rules with Belle tonight. Being stealth isn’t her strong suit. I glance to Ford, and my panties melt to nothing. Apparently it isn’t mine either. Ford has his hands stuffed into his pockets—that amused look on his face that says something other than what the occasion calls for. It’s like he’s seeing me, believing we’re still together and that everything works out for us in the end. I wish I could have the confidence he does.