Free TIED (A Fire Born Novel) by Laney McMann Page B

quickened. I keyed his name in alongside the number, hit save and waited to hear the messages.
    Instead, a knock at the door took my attention. Pulling the towel off my head, I shook my hair out and crossed the house, retying my robe before swinging the door open. Max stood leaning against the side of the house, arms folded across his chest, eyebrows raised and a grin spread over his face.
    “Catch you at bad time?” His gaze roamed low and down my bare legs.
    I glanced down at myself. Humiliating. Why didn’t I use the peephole? Look out the front window? Anything? “Oh … yeah, well, no, I mean, I thought you were probably Devon.”
    His lips pressed together, erasing his smile.
    “That’s not what I meant. I wasn’t expecting anyone. I got out of the shower and …” Why am I so nervous?
    “It’s okay. I mean, he’s the boyfriend, right?” His gaze veered away from mine.
    “Right …” I said to my feet.
    “So anyway, I’ve been calling you all day. Didn’t you get my messages?” He sounded a little put out, like I’d been avoiding him on purpose.
    “Yeah.” I raised my hand to show him my phone. “You knocked as I was about to listen to them.”
    “You left rehearsals early?” He peered into the living room, leaning against the doorjamb.
    “You do remember keeping me awake until four in the morning?”
    “Sure, that’s what I figured.” He stared past me.
    “You can trust me you know.” I leaned into his line of sight, bringing his attention back on me.
    He dropped his chin and sighed, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I know I can. It’s just … I worry. Answer the phone next time.”
    “Okay.” Without thought, I moved forward and tilted his head back up, cupping his jaw in my hand, allowing his warmth to permeate me. “Don’t be upset. Whatever this is, it’ll be all right.” I brushed my thumb along the hollow under his eye—dark with worry. “I think you’re the one who needs sleep now.”
    He bit his bottom lip, his grey eyes holding my gaze.
    “I remember every curve of your face,” I whispered and leaned into him, kissing the edge of his jaw lightly. “Don’t worry so much about me.”
    “Layla …” His voice trembled and caught. “That’s not possible.” He cleared his throat. “You’re all I worry about.”
    I tried to wrench my gaze away, to back up, to move my hand or gain some rational thought, but my brain had turned to Jell-O.
    “I think I should go,” he said, slowly taking one step back.
    I nodded, looking up at him, unable to catch my breath as it raced like I’d sprinted down the beach.
    A garage door opened somewhere in the distance; a door opened, too. “Teine, can you help me unload the groceries, please?”
    “Coming,” I said in daze, a strange current of energy running between Max and me, holding us where we stood.
    He leaned down, eyes framed with a fringe of brown lashes, and gently kissed the corner of my mouth.
    I caught myself as my knees buckled.
    “Your mom still calls you that?” He smirked, inches from my face.
    I nodded, without breath to speak.
    “I have to go.” He grinned. “Your mom and I … well, not so much.” He jerked the front door open and scrambled out. “See you soon.” He winked and left.
    What just happened?

8
    “I’ve been thinking.” My mother handed me another bag from the Farmer’s Market, the warmth of Max’s kiss still lingering on my mouth. I brushed my fingertips over it. “You might want to consider taking a break after the show. I think some time off might be good. Maybe we could get out of town for a while when school gets out?”
    “Sure, Mom,” I said, barely listening.
    “Maybe we could … Devon … it could … fun.”
    “Right.” I nodded, putting the milk in the refrigerator, unsure what she said.
    My dancing schedule was the least of my concerns, but the mental strain I was under was affecting my performing and my concentration.
    • • •
    “Layla!” Ms. Trudy roared