Hidden Scars by Amanda K. Byrne Read Free Book Online Page A

She took another bite, freezing when she replayed her own words. Oh,
hell
.
           Taylor only gave her that half-smile. “Maybe I will.”

Chapter Five
           The Hangar was more than half full. She had no trouble spotting her friends, bunched up close to the floor. She was later than she’d wanted to be; the start of the first bout was about fifteen minutes away.
           “Sara.”
           She stiffened in alarm, the heat of another body almost flush against her, a large, warm hand splayed across her lower back.
Taylor
. Heart thumping wildly, she shut her eyes and breathed through the panic, conscious his hand hadn’t moved. “Hi.”
           He slowly nudged her around to face him, his hand falling away. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
           There was a hint of mania in her laugh, but she didn’t care. “Right. Because sneaking up behind me won’t scare me.” She stabbed her index finger into his chest. “I’m getting you a frickin’ bell.”
           His smile was slight and quiet. “You’d ruin my mojo.” He jerked his chin down the stairs. “Your friends?”
           “Yeah.” After a moment’s hesitation, he placed his hand on her lower back again, following her down the stairs, and heat burned through her, hottest where his palm lay. She had a brief fantasy of his hand on other parts of her. Stroking. Teasing.
           She wanted to moan.
           Zanna’s head popped up first, her normally serious face lighting with a grin. “Hey! The bout’s about to start.” Her gaze slid over to Taylor and back, brow winging up.
           “This is Taylor, a friend from work.” She bit down on the urge to emphasize
friend
. Her thoughts a moment ago had been decidedly un-friend like. “That’s Zanna,” Zanna lifted a hand, “Megan, Dave, Rob, Kelly, and I have no idea who that is.” The man closest to Sara had floppy brown hair and golden brown eyes, his smile bright and goofy. This had to be the guy Megan was talking about.
           He stood and held out a hand. “Brian. You must be Sara.” She didn’t miss the approving once-over, and she resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She and Megan were going to have a conversation about this. Well-meaning friends aside, it was way past time for them to get it through their heads she was serious about her dislike of set ups.
           The hand at her back flexed hard, the tips of his fingers digging in once, then dropped. Her heart skipped. If that was what she thought it was, the small, possessive gesture quieted one of her doubts. Whatever this was, it wasn’t all in her head.
           Music began blaring from the speakers strung from the rafters, and she shrugged it off. Something to think about later. The others stood and they did the awkward sideways shuffle to the empty seats on the other side of Kelly. Derby members skated out onto the floor of the hangar, reformatted as a short-track roller rink, and she settled in and leaned forward to study the scoreboard mounted in the far corner.
           They all had the weirdest names. Balls-Out Betty. Polly the Punisher. The emcee was having a little too much fun calling the bout, riffing off the names, egging the competitors on, encouraging the crowd to boo or cheer, depending on what was happening. Hyper aware of Taylor next to her, his thigh brushing hers, and Brian a few seats over, Sara turned to Kelly. “So how does Megan know Brian?”
           “They work together, I think. I tried to talk her out of bringing him along.” She slid a rueful glance at Sara. “Zanna tried, too.”
           “I’ll talk to her later. Hey, Rob, how’d the promotions material turn out?” Kelly’s boyfriend, Rob, worked for the advertising firm partnered with the Portland Film Festival, and she was hoping to score a free poster.
           “I’ve got your poster under my seat,” he said