Moments In Time: The Complete Novella Collection (20 page)

She couldn’t tell him she’d gambled and
drank away all the money she’d received from selling the house.
What would he think of her? And why did she give a damn, anyway?
But as much as it frustrated her, she did. “It’s a long story. I’ll
tell you another time.” She feigned a yawn. Hopefully he’d get the
message.

“I understand.” He patted her leg. “But
please don’t move back there. Come and stay with me until you get
back on your feet. I’m your friend. Allow me to help you.”

“I don’t know.” She wasn’t sure how she
could ever return to her old life. A normal life without Scott was
unthinkable. A life with Heat in it was bound to shatter her heart
all over again.

“You have to heal,” Heat said, as if reading
her mind. “And you can only do that by accepting what happened and
moving on.”

Melisa shut her eyes for a long time. When
she opened them again, she had made a decision. “Okay. I’ll come
and stay with you, but only for a few days.”

“You can stay with me for as long as you
like.”

Being inside Heat’s townhouse was like
turning back the clock for Melisa. Everything was in the place she
remembered from the few times she and Scott had visited. It smelled
the same too—of his cologne mixed with clean, fresh air.

Although she’d always done her best to get
out of visits to Heat’s place, Heat had been Scott’s best friend,
and she hadn’t wanted Scott to be suspicious. Scott had known
nothing about her past with Heat, and as time went on, she didn’t
think it was necessary to tell him. She didn’t want to rock the
boat. And Heat probably hadn’t wanted to hurt his friend.

Heat’s house was in impeccable condition,
clean and tidy. Glossy sports magazines were stacked on top of each
other on the gleaming glass coffee table, the cushions on the couch
were plump and unwrinkled, and there wasn’t a speck of dust in
sight. Everything perfect, the way she herself liked things to be.
In Melisa’s case, making sure everything was clean on the outside
helped her cope with the cobwebs on the inside.

Heat ushered her to the couch and eased her
down. He was so close, his intoxicating cologne enveloped her.

Melisa pursed her lips at the flutter inside
her heart. Why was she reacting to him this way after so many
years?

“Are you comfortable?” He lifted her feet
onto the couch.

“Perfect. Thanks.”

“You should stop thanking me every five
minutes. I’m happy to do this for you. I can’t believe I’ve found
you.”

“Found me?” Melisa tipped her head to one
side.

Heat busied himself opening the blinds. “I
used to wonder what had happened to you.”

“Oh.” Melisa paused. “It was nice to see you
again. But staying here... wouldn’t that inconvenience you? I’m
sure you want your privacy.”

“I don’t need privacy.”

“Don’t you have a—”

“Girlfriend? No. I did, but we broke up
yesterday.”

Melisa didn’t miss the fact that yesterday
was the day of the fire. The day after he saw her again. “I’m sorry
to hear that.”

“Don’t be. It wasn’t serious.”

“Still breaking hearts, I see.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Come on, in school you always had women
chasing after you. You never kept them long enough.”

“I don’t need a long time to find out if a
person is right for me.” He paused. “Can I make you something to
eat? Or we can order in?”

He was diverting the conversation. But so
what if he was? What was it to her? She had no right to ask about
his love life, anyway. She did feel relieved, though, that she
wouldn’t be bumping into other women around the apartment. She’d
just have to do everything she could to get out of his way before
the next girlfriend arrived on the scene.

“Anything will do. You choose.” Her instinct
was to say no to having him spend money on her, but she had to rise
above her pride and accept help. It wasn’t like she had any other
choice.

“Great. Actually, I’ll go and pick up
something. How about I get your things from Oasis on my way
back?”

Sudden fear of the future formed a knot in
her stomach. Before Melisa had been released from the hospital,
Lynnette had visited her again and told her not to return to Oasis.
Not as punishment, but because she felt the fire was a sign that
Melisa should move on with her life. She’d insisted she was only
doing this because she had come to care for Melisa very much and
wanted her to be happy. When Lynette heard Heat’s offer, she had
winked at Melisa and told her she could pick up her things
anytime.

But now Melisa felt conflicted. Heat picking
up her things was so final. It meant that for the time being, she
was at his mercy—unless, of course, she wanted to live on the
streets.

“Okay,” she said.

***

When Heat returned home, they ate their
pizza in silence, and then he washed up. She offered to help, but
he told her to rest her injured arm.

As she watched him rinse and dry the plates,
Melisa’s mind wandered; how would it have been if her prayers of
the past had somehow been answered and she’d gotten married to
Heat? But she stopped that train of thought. Fantasizing about what
could have been would make it impossible to live with him.

“Melisa,” Heat said when he was done with
the dishes. He walked back to the table. “I’m your friend. Tell me
what happened.”

Melisa sighed. “What do you want to
know?”

“I want to know why you moved into a
homeless shelter.”

Maybe she did owe him some truth. Yes, she
worried what he might think of her when he found out she was an
alcoholic, but even if she didn’t tell him, he might figure it out
at some point. The urges for drink were weaker and far between, but
she wanted to attend AA meetings at an address Lynette had given
her. “Can we sit?” she asked, and he nodded.

They sat facing each other at the kitchen
table. What a perfect view, Melisa thought as she studied Heat’s
chiseled features and gazed into the deep pools of his bedroom
eyes. Warmth immediately spread between her legs, and she tore her
gaze away and looked down at the wooden table.

She told him everything that had happened
after Scott died—the shock, her denial, the realization that he was
gone forever, her meltdown, how she turned to alcohol and gambling
to make it all go away, and how she lost everything she’d had left
because of her addictions.

When she was done, she closed her eyes and
rested her head on her good arm.

“Look at me,” Heat said. “Melisa, look at
me.”

She did, and what she saw in his eyes was
not criticism or disappointment or any of the judgment she feared.
She saw sympathy and understanding, and something else she couldn’t
quite understand, something warm and comforting.

He placed a hand on both of hers. “You have
nothing to be ashamed of. You went through hell, but everything
will be fine now. I promise you that.”

“Can we not talk about this again?”

“As long as you’re seeking help, we never
have to talk about it again.”

“Thank you.” She removed her hands from
under his.

They had shared a moment. Grief and pain
drew people together, but for the rest of her time in his home, she
would keep her distance. It would be the best thing for both of
them.

***

The first night under Heat’s roof, Melisa
found it hard to fall asleep. He’d given her the master bedroom,
because it was spacious and had its own bathroom. The guestroom in
which he slept was across the hall from hers. He was supposed to be
at the fire station tonight, but he’d taken the night off.

She didn’t want to think about him, but her
mind kept conjuring images of him changing for bed. Did he sleep in
pajamas? Boxers and a T-shirt? Fully naked?

Stop, Melisa whispered to herself as her
cheeks burned. She buried her head in the pillow and groaned, but
her mind refused to let go. She imagined him lying on the bed she
was on, on the pillow her face was buried in, under the sheets that
covered her body.

Her pulse leapt with excitement. Now she was
officially horny for him against her will. One thing might help.
She couldn’t jump into the shower because of her arm, so she walked
into his black-and-white bathroom and splashed her face with cold
water.

When she climbed into bed again, her mind
was clear of Heat. Instead, she thought about her future. What
would become of her? Where would she go from here? Could she really
start again?

An explosion of blinding light flashed
behind Melisa’s eyelids and searing pain shot through her right
arm. As she covered it with her other hand, the stench of burning
hair and flesh plugged her nostrils. Fear gripped her, and she
thrashed and screamed until someone grabbed her hands.

“It’s just a dream,” the man said in a low,
soothing voice, and Melisa’s eyes flew open, her heart thudding
against her chest. It was still dark in the room, but Heat’s
silhouette was visible by the moonlight filtering through the
window.

He brushed the damp hair from her face.
“You’re safe now.”

Melisa tried to stop herself from trembling.
“Sorry I woke you.”

He placed an arm around her. “You went
through something traumatic. It will take a while for you to come
to terms with it all.”

“Yeah.” Melisa moved away from his touch and
dragged the bedsheet up to her chin. “Why aren’t you at work?”

On a normal day, Heat worked a
twenty-four-hour shift, which started at 7:00 a.m. and ended the
next morning.

“I finished early so I could come and check
on you.”

“But that’s the second time this week. You
can’t put your job on the line for me.” He’d come home as early as
11:00 p.m. twice this week. She owed him enough as it was. For the
past few weeks, he’d been so caring that sometimes she almost
forgot he once broke her heart.

“You know I don’t mind. Besides, I did a lot
of overtime in the past few months. I deserve some time off. “

“You could do other things. Go out with
friends. That would be more fun than dealing with my
nightmares.”

“I’d rather be here.” He paused, his
breathing labored. She knew what he would ask before he uttered the
words, and ice formed in her stomach.

“Have you ever thought about us? You know,
after...”

“No,” she lied, and pulled the sheets
tighter around her.

Melisa was standing in the kitchen preparing
breakfast when the lock clicked in the front door.

She kept her hand on the knife as the sounds
Heat made when he arrived home every morning carried through the
house—the jingle of keys as he placed them on the small table next
to the door. The rustle of paper as he leafed through the mail,
opened important letters, and placed the rest next to the keys.
Then the ping as he switched on the TV to a news channel. He never
really watched it, but kept it on as he did other things around the
house. Perhaps having noise in the background made the place feel
less quiet when he’d lived alone.

Melisa had been living in his house for too
long if she knew his routines. A month under his roof. It was time
to move on. Her burns had healed and the fear of returning to her
old life was still there, but no longer crippled her.

She’d just sliced the onion in half when his
footsteps headed for the kitchen.

“Hi,” he said, standing in the doorway. He
wore jeans and a crisp white shirt and his hair was damp. He
sometimes showered at work after a day of trainings or rescue
missions.

Melisa’s pulse skittered as memories
transported her back to the past. When she’d bumped into him after
his football practice, his hair had always been damp; the water
turned the dark caramel tone to rich honey. She used to imagine him
showering after sweating on the field. The sight of him—slanted
smile, broad shoulders, faint scar on his jaw—had always sent her
blood boiling. He had been extremely popular. He was the guy all
the girls wanted, and he dated a lot of them. Except her. Until one
night at a high school dance.

His girlfriend at the time had walked out on
him, and Melisa had been there. After waiting so long for him to
notice her, she did more than comfort him. She offered him one
night, which was better than she could ever have hoped for. It had
been magical. Thinking about their time together still turned her
on. But that night had also turned her life inside out and changed
her in ways she could not have imagined. Her heart ached. Her
mother had pulled her out of the school soon after to get her away
from him and sent her to finish high school in Madison, where her
Aunt Sally, a teacher, homeschooled her.

When Melisa returned after graduation, she
was a different person. She met Heat again at Serendipity
University, but he had a girlfriend. And he now hung around
with Scott, his childhood friend who’d moved to Serendipity
from California.

Scott was attracted to Melisa from the
get-go. Despite her pushing him away, wishing Heat would pursue her
instead, he didn’t relent. Her heart broke a little each day Heat
showed no interest in her. Eventually, she gave her heart to Scott
and fell in love with him. She knew in her heart she loved him,
even if she’d never felt for him the same passion she’d shared with
Heat. But unlike Heat, Scott offered her more than passion. He was
kind and faithful and safe. She didn’t have to fear that he’d leave
her for someone else, because he truly loved her.

“Hi,” she answered Heat, resuming chopping
the onion.

“What are you making?”

“Scrambled eggs with ham and onions.”

“You know you don’t have to do anything
around here, right? Don’t feel as if you have to repay me.”