Torch (Take It Off) by Cambria Hebert Read Free Book Online Page B

wrists!”
     
    That seemed to wipe the humor off his face. I hadn’t meant to do that. “Want me to help you with the bandages?”
     
    “No, the nurse did it before you arrived.”
     
    “You barely ate,” he observed.
     
    I picked up the pizza and took a bite, not because I wanted it, but because he clearly wanted me to. I paused in chewing. Since when did I do things because someone else wanted me too? Uh, never.
     
    I set the pizza back down and scooted into the couch cushions, leaning my head back and trying to get comfortable. I felt homesick. I missed my couch, my favorite blanket, and my house. I knew this was only temporary, that I would have my own place again, but I hated temporary.
     
    Temporary was just a word—a state of being that really just meant nothing was mine. It was like I was borrowing something that didn’t belong to me.
     
    I was tired of that.
     
    I wanted permanent.
     
    Some action movie was playing on the flat screen and I turned my attention toward that, trying to distract myself. I was only tired. Tired and upset. A combination that always made me feel slightly grouchy and, tonight, kind of sad.
     
    Tomorrow I would feel better.
     
    Holt snorted at something on the TV and I turned my head to look at him. He was so solid looking—wide shoulders, strong jaw, and rock-hard biceps. The stubble on his face was soft, setting off some of the hardness he projected. His presence was reassuring; somehow he made me feel like everything was going to be okay.
     
    The blurry vision of him stepping through the fire to rescue me arose in my head, and I tried to see more of him, but a memory was just that—a memory. I couldn’t really pull more detail out of that moment even though I wanted to. If I were able, I doubt I would notice how good-looking he was in his fireman’s gear. If anything, I would notice the way the flames devoured my home.
     
    I closed my eyes, willing myself to stop thinking altogether. I took a few deep breaths and positioned my arms so my wrists wouldn’t get squished beneath my body. It didn’t take long to drift off into soundless sleep. Every once in a while, the TV would break into my slumber, but I found the sound comforting. It made me feel less alone.
     
    I don’t know what time it was when I felt myself being moved. Alarm slammed through me—my instincts thinking someone was somehow taking advantage of me in my sleep. I jerked awake, flinging my arms wide while my body went rigid.
     
    “Everything’s fine. You’re safe.” Holt’s voice was a soft rumble beside my ear.
     
    I blinked, looking up. I was in his arms. He was cradling me against him and my cheek brushed against his T-shirt-clad chest. “What are you doing?” I mumbled, my eyes drifting closed again.
     
    “You’ll be more comfortable in a bed.”
     
    He carried me like I weighed nothing, and his body gave off a delicious heat that my skin just soaked up like a flower on a sunny day. Then he was laying me in a bed with soft sheets and tucking a blanket up around my shoulders.
     

    I could have sworn I felt the brush of his lips at my hairline, but it could have been a dream because just after that brief feeling of contact, deep sleep claimed me completely.

6
     
    Something was burning. I shot up in the center of a very large bed. The first few moments, I sat there disoriented, trying to remember where I was.
     
    I remembered the fire. The hospital. I remembered being carried to bed by Holt.
     
    Something was on fire.
     
    Again.
     
    Acting swiftly, I threw off the covers and jumped down, barely noticing how chilled the wooden floors felt against my feet. I looked for signs of the fire as I rushed out into the hallway, ducking slightly low in case of rising smoke.
     
    A loud piercing beep assaulted the quiet morning and went off with an enthusiasm that could only be produced by a really good battery.
     
    “Holt!” I shrieked, my voice straining to reach the volume I wanted.