Where There's Smoke by M. J. Fredrick Read Free Book Online Page B

was too important to him.
    "So what tier do you see yourself on?” he asked finally.
    She whipped around to face him. “What?"
    "You clearly don't see yourself as one of the beautiful people. Where do you rank yourself?"
    "I'm definitely a plain person."
    "You're definitely an idiot,” he countered, pulling in front of her house.
    He walked her to the door, needing to make sure she was steady on that leg. She fumbled with her keys before unlocking the door, and apprehension at her continued silence made him shift from one foot to the other. Could she feel the vibe coming off him?
    He leaned in and reached for they keys as he would for a date, getting a good whiff of her flowery shampoo, the one he'd smelled so strongly in the bathroom. Just the scent brought the memory back, and he sniffed again. She turned and pulled the keys out of his reach, looking at him like he was crazy.
    "Um, you want me to wrap your knee again?” he asked, leaning on the doorjamb.
    She turned a fascinating shade of red and shook her head. “I'm sure I'll be fine."
    "It's no trouble.” He tried to edge past her into the house, but she blocked him. That was new and different. Why didn't she want him to come in? Was she like this with all her dates? Maybe that's why she didn't have many.
    Wait. Date was the wrong word. They weren't on a date here. That would imply something more than friendship.
    "I've got to get to the office early tomorrow,” Lauren said, talking faster than she could move. “Lots to do before Christmas. Thanks for dinner. Good night."
    She stumbled into the house and closed the door in his face. He blinked at the sudden move, and walked back to his car, confused as hell.
    Lauren leaned against her door and squeezed her eyes shut. Okay, that had been pretty rude. She just didn't have the wits to explain to Seth that she didn't want him to touch her again, that she didn't want him thinking of her as a patient while she craved the accidental brush of his fingers on her skin. She couldn't bear the thought of him teasing her when she wanted him kissing her. And she couldn't think of him kissing her when she knew it would destroy their relationship.
    She couldn't be with him when she felt this vulnerable. She had to be alert at all times, lest he find out her real feelings. She wouldn't make that mistake again.
    * * * *
    Lauren sat in the audience at Seth's gig Friday night and wondered why she'd come. More to the point, why was she sitting here, totally mesmerized by his fingers moving over the guitar strings with such dexterity? She hadn't heard a note played, or a word Hilary, her partner-in-crime—Seth's term—said. Why was she torturing herself by even considering what those fingers would feel like on her skin?
    She didn't want things to change; she'd certainly had enough of that in the past few weeks, and Seth was her constant.
    So what was this jealousy she felt when the band took a break and females swarmed the stage before Seth even set his guitar down? What was this pain in her gut when he stepped down right into the middle of the posing, smiling women? What was this fury when one of them stroked a bold hand down his arm, when he gifted another with his devilish smile and a wink?
    Then he extracted himself in a way that left them wanting more and made his way toward Lauren and Hilary. A sense of hopelessness she hadn't felt in years washed over Lauren. No way could she compete with the thrill he got from that adoration.
    He slid into the chair beside her, the action sliding the chair closer to her. God, he looked delicious as he leaned back to order a beer from a waitress who swayed off to do his bidding. His skin was damp from the stage lights, his wavy hair plastered to his scalp, curled against his forehead. His already snug t-shirt clung to his chest and arms. He gifted Hilary with the full wattage of his smile, then looked at Lauren.
    "Glad y'all could make it,” he said, as if he hadn't thought she would.
    "A gah