Slow Burn: An Enemies to Lovers Romance (Breathing Hearts Book 2) Read online

  Not that I had anything against Sharon; she was quite lovely. My issue came with what happened whenever my father heard success stories like the one Mrs. Christi was happily chattering on about.

  "Ah, yes," my father drawled. "If Madison's head hadn't been so full of that dancing nonsense, she too might've had her degree now." Laughing as if he hadn't just broken my heart in two, my dad gripped my shoulder and gave me a playful shake. "Ain't that right?"

  I tried to smile; I really did, but my mouth refused to give an inch. "Right," I echoed softly and instantly cursed myself for feeling so small. Yeah, so maybe I didn't have a success story but at least I'd tried.

  That had to count for something.

  Across from me, Mrs. Christi gave me a sympathetic smile. I swear, I hated that even more. I didn't want people feeling sorry for me. "You two have a good day now." She gave me one last look before snatching her bag off the counter and stepping onto the sidewalk.

  Once I was certain she was out of earshot, I twisted and pinned my dad with a stare. "I really wish you'd stop saying things like that."

  "Like what?" He studied me as if he had no idea what I was talking about. I looked into those eyes that were the same shade as my own and felt something inside me twist and stab. I'd always been daddy's girl until I came home one day and told him I wanted to dance.

  His reaction had been startling to say the least and when he told me that I would go to business school even if he had to drag me there himself, I went.

  Until…

  The bell above the door dinged, alerting us to a new customer. My dad's wrinkly fingers worked back and forth over his thick, gray eyebrows. "Just do your job, Madison." The words had barely left his mouth before he turned around and ambled away.

  That was pretty much how the rest of my day went, and by the time we closed the store, I was too wired to go straight home. Choosing to leave my car where it was, I walked the two blocks to the one place I knew would sooth my restless soul.

  All around me people were milling about. Couples hand in hand. Families strolling to their favorite dinner spot. And there I was feeling more alone than ever. Just because my family didn't—or rather refused to—understand that my passion differed from theirs.

  Right as the melancholy settled in my chest, the little dance studio I'd practiced at since I was eight came into view. Nestled between Mrs. McDower's bookstore and Mr. Purdy's trinket shop, the glass-paneled space was my own slice of heaven.

  I came to a stop in front of the studio and took a moment to take it in. The wall of windows had a slight tint to them, allowing the maximum amount of light to spill inside while keeping the dancers obscured from the outside world.

  Anxious to escape, I reached for the handle but before I had a grasp on it, the door flew open and the owner, Lucetta, stepped out. "Maddie. Hi." She immediately pulled me in for a hug that I had no idea I needed. One I greedily took and held on to for a few seconds longer before stepping back.

  "Closing up?" I asked, eyeing the purse slung over her shoulder.

  "I was supposed to leave an hour ago, but the books took a bit longer than I would have liked."

  Nibbling on my lip, I nodded tentatively. As much as I needed to work the day out of my system, I didn't want to hold Lucetta up. Maybe I could take Sheldon for a walk on the beach instead.

  I was about to say goodbye when she took my hand and squeezed. "What's bothering you?"

  A rueful smile touched my lips. "It's just been one of those days." I didn't need to elaborate; Lucetta knew how my parents felt about me dancing. When I'd still trained with her, I'd arrived at the studio in tears more times than I'd cared to count. Her answer to those tears had always been to tell me to dance through my feelings.

  "I'm sorry, honey." Her focus shifted to the keys she was fiddling with. "I wish I could tell you it gets easier, but some people are just too set in their ways." It was her turn to look sad and I knew it had something to do with her mother. She'd never told me specifics and I'd never pried, but from the little I could gather, I knew our stories were similar.

  "Here." She jerked her chin toward her hand between us. A small copper key was clutched between her thumb and index finger.

  I had a pretty good idea what it was, still, I asked, "What's this?"

  "You can use the studio whenever you want. Just be sure to lock up when you're done." She nudged me with the key. "And maybe spread the word about the new fitness classes twice a week?"

  "You're sure you don't mind?"

  "I offered, didn't I?" Lucetta grabbed my hand and set the key inside my palm and closed my fingers around it. "I've got a bottle of Merlot and a fantastic TV dinner waiting for me, so I have gotta run." Along with the meaningful stare she aimed my way, her warm hand squeezed tight over mine.

  No words were needed. She understood how desperately my soul needed this. "Thank you," I breathed on a shaky exhale.

  Giving me a gentle tap against the cheek, she smiled sweetly. "You can thank me by never changing your dreams for anyone." With that, she spun around and made her way to her car, each of her impossibly long legs moving with grace and elegance.

  With a final wave, she pulled away from the curb and I finally stepped into the studio. I dropped my purse to the floor and toed off my pumps before pulling the polo with Young's Hardware etched on the breast pocket over my head.

  Standing in a pair of black leggings and my sports bra, I scrolled through my phone until Christina Perri's Human filtered through the tiny speakers. After setting the device on Lucetta's table in the corner, I moved to the middle of the polished floor.

  Closing my eyes, I lowered my chin to my chest and slowly rolled my head first left then right. My shoulders came next. Then I shook out my legs. Eyes still shut, I took a deep breath, letting the lyrics and beat lead me.

  I flew through the air; kicked and spun until I was too tired to move another muscle. Because when my body had no energy, I wouldn't be able to wallow in the sad fact that the people I loved most couldn't accept me for who I was.

  3

  ADAM

  So much smoke… and heat. I rubbed at my eyes, but it only worsened the sting. Behind my ribs, my heart was pumping two times too fast. I didn't care, I needed to find her. "Angie!!" I yelled for what felt like the hundredth time. Why the hell wasn't she answering me?

  An ear-splitting cracking sounded above my head a second before a beam came crashing to the ground. "Shit! Dammit, Angie, answer me!" Nothing but the popping sound of flames replied.

  Where the fuck was she?

  I opened my mouth to call for her again; no words came. In their place, a coughing fit that left my lungs as hot as the fire dancing around me. Clutching at my chest with one hand, I used my other arm to shield my eyes.

  Still, I couldn't see.

  "For shit's sake, Angie. Tell me where you are?" I begged hoarsely. Somewhere in the distance, I heard my name being called. It sounded like my friend, Griffin, but I couldn't be sure. Between the crackling fire and my heart's thundering, my hearing wasn't the best.

  "Ang—"

  A fierce heavy heat stole my breath as it smashed down on my left shoulder. The pain so severe I cried out in absolute agony. Frantically I grabbed at my chest, trying and failing to get air to my lungs.

  "Angie," I whispered her name one last time before my already blurry vision distorted to nothing but cold blackness.

  "Fuck!" Gasping, I jolted upright and dragged a shaky palm over my face. "It was just a nightmare," I assured myself as I forced a steady breath from my lungs. I swung my legs around and planted my feet on the ground. The cold tiles a welcome reprieve from the memories so vivid, I could still feel the searing heat of them as if it had just happened.

  Over my shoulder, I glanced at the soaked linens. Would there ever come a night where I didn't wake up in a cold sweat? Or was this the price I had to pay for failing? For not saving her?

  Pushing to my feet, I welcomed the sting of self-loathing that washed over me. I deserved it, and asking for respite was like giving a pardon to a murderer on death row. With sharp, angry movements, I yanked the sheets from the bed and strode to the laundry room where I deposited them in the washer.

  Without fail, that was what every night had looked like for the past three years. Peaceful slumbers were only afforded to those whose souls weren't blotched with big, black spots.

  My still-shaking hand came up to trail along the slightly raised, too-smooth skin along the left side of my neck down to my shoulder. Monster. I felt like one, and now I looked like one too.

  A tortured cry tore from my lungs and I smacked my palm against the wall with so much force, it should've hurt. But fortunately—or unfortunately—for me, the deep-rooted anger I felt wouldn't allow any other feeling to the surface.

  And I was okay with that.

  I made my way to the kitchen and pulled my old friend, Jack, closer. Foregoing a tumbler, I screwed the cap off and swallowed down a decent amount of the amber liquid. Even that did nothing to settle my nerves. I didn't understand how you could feel so alone and yet be so crowded by your own thoughts that you felt suffocated.

  Bottle in hand, I dragged my ass into the backyard. I didn't bother with lights; darkness suited me just fine. It was where I belonged.

  I had no idea how the harmonious humming of the waves managed to break through the craziness inside my head, but I welcomed it nonetheless. The fifty-pound anvil on my chest eased up slightly, allowing me to take my first real breath since the past had pulled me from my sleep.

  Tilting my head skyward, I closed my eyes and dragged another shot of salty air to my lungs. And then did it again and again until the chaos inside of me became less demanding. Less intrusive.

  By the time I made my way to the
couch in the tv room, my lids felt heavy, my limbs tired. My six-foot-six frame collapsing onto the semi-soft cushioning with zero grace. A long heavy sigh pushed past my lips as I curled onto my side, knees pulled to my chest.

  There was only one thing left to do: close my eyes and wait for the nightmare to start all over again.

  ***

  Slowly, I pried my eyes open and immediately let out a breath of relief when I realized my demons hadn't come back to haunt me. I maneuvered myself into a seated position, my body protesting furiously.

  It didn't matter that I spent hours a day exercising in my garage; I still felt every one of my thirty-five years. Or maybe it was the shitty position and crappy couch that accounted for the gnawing pain in my lower back.

  Pushing to my feet, I reached for the ceiling before twisting first to my right and then my left. My backbone giving a satisfying crunch with each stretch. The dull ache just above my tailbone showed no sign of going away, and I made a mental note to add another set of deadlifts to my workout routine later that day.

  But first, coffee.

  As I shuffled into the kitchen and began preparing my caffeine fix, my mind tried to focus on a million things at once. The wood supply for the deck I was building was running low and I had to put in an order. The guest bedroom and bathroom needed to be redone from the ground up. The floorboards weren't in the best shape, and the color on the walls an awful shade somewhere between pumpkin and shit.

  No one really understood why I'd bought this specific house. Much like me, it wasn't in the best shape. And honestly, I had no real reason other than it felt like something I needed to do. An unmistakable pull to this town. Or maybe it was a sliver of hope that I'd find peace here, as undeserving as it may be.

  My thoughts were still a jumbled mess when I grabbed milk from the fridge. As the door slowly closed, a little note stuck under a magnet caught my eye. With a wrinkle of my nose, I tugged it off and stared at the words I'd scribbled down a few days ago.

  I needed to check in with my parents.

  The move had been hard on them. Especially since they'd packed up their lives in Texas City to take care of me after the accident—even though I'd begged them not to. So when I told them I couldn't live in Sault Point anymore, their disappointment was understandable.

  Right up until the day I left, they'd voiced their concerns over and over again until I promised to check in at least once a week and even went as far as to tell them they could drive down here unannounced if I didn't.

  They jumped on it because being the bastard I was, I went for weeks without talking to anyone when I was still living in the same town as them. Therefor a once a week face to face—if you could call video calling that—was kind of a big deal.

  My mind still stuck on my parents, I poured copious amounts of sugar and milk into my coffee and decided to give them a call as soon as I had enough caffeine in me to deal with their endless ways of asking me if I was okay.

  I wasn't and I didn't think I ever would be, but they didn't need to know that.

  Steaming mug in hand, I poked my head out of the glass door leading to my back yard to check if the coast was clear. I was in no mood to be approached by my neighbor again.

  Hell, if I never had to make niceties with another person—except for my family—again, it would be too soon. Even before things went south, I hadn't been the most social person on the planet.

  It became a lot worse after the accident.

  Satisfied that there was no one, I slipped outside and sank into the Adirondack chair. Bright orange rays burst from the line where the ocean met the sky, with thin strips of yellow streaking through the blue.

  It was beautiful.

  If only that beauty had the ability to reach inside and touch the dead parts of me, maybe then—

  Before the rest of the thought could fully form, a blur of gray and white came rushing toward me. "What the hell?" I couldn't stop my face from contorting even if I tried. Scratching at my legs had to be the ugliest creature I'd ever laid eyes on.

  Its body had no coat while the top of its head was covered in long white strands of fur that looked like a stylist had been in there. "Good heavens, you're ugly."

  Fugly dropped onto his or her butt and angled its long nose my way. "Shoo. Go away now!" Paying no mind to my not so nice request, Fugly's head simply tilted all the way to the left.

  "Oh crap. I'm so sorry."

  Just as it had a few days ago, every cell in my body stilled at the sound of her voice. I dropped my chin to my chest and cursed. That right there was what I'd wanted to avoid. I didn't want to make small talk with my neighbors.

  Especially not with one who had a voice sweeter than honey.

  "Uhm." She sounded hesitant. Good. "Would you mind handing him over? He's very nice and won't bite, I promise."

  Nice or not, the woman had to be deluded if she thought I was touching that thing. My gaze flicked to Fugly, who was still watching me. "Go. Away," I muttered through clenched teeth. Unfortunately, it didn't have the desired effect because the stupid mutt thought it was playtime. Jumping onto its hind legs, Fugly's front paws scratched air. A move that most people would find adorable.

  I wasn't most people.

  "Uh…yeah, hi." It might've been my imagination, but that sweet voice held the slightest tinge of annoyance. "I realize that you're offended by interaction of any kind, but Sheldon doesn't know that. I'd come over and get him myself, but I don't want to get shot for trespassing."

  Head still bowed, my gaze shot to her. Big mistake. If the sunrise I'd witnessed mere moments ago was beautiful, she was whatever trumped that. She looked like she'd just come back from a run. Her blonde hair twisted into a messy knot on top of her head. Cheeks tinged a rosy color and her skin glistening with perspiration.

  And still, I couldn't recall a recent time where I'd had the privilege of witnessing such beauty.

  There was a fluttering inside my chest, one I hadn't felt in a long, long while. I held my breath trying to hold on to it, but it was gone a second later. Instantly my mood went to shit, and I jumped to my feet.

  Without thinking it through, I stalked toward her, vaguely aware of Fugly happily trotting along behind me. By the time I stopped at the hip-high fence separating our properties, my body was vibrating with irritation.

  My neighbor was standing on her side with her arms folded in front of her. The only sign that I intimidated her somewhat came in the form of her eyes—eyes the color of whiskey—widening.

  She licked her lips and I couldn't help but follow the action. When she tilted her chin upward and narrowed those pretty little eyes at me, I let my gaze roam over her face. She was young, probably a lot younger than me, but there was something shining in her intense stare that called to some messed up part of me.

  When her gaze softened, I realized, with a horrible shock, that I was facing her. My left side wasn't hidden, and she was staring right at my ugly. My stomach twisted, the knots working in furious circles until I could feel the bile rise in my throat.

  I didn't want pity. Not from her or anyone else.

  Bending down, I scooped up the mutt and shoved it at her. Her hand grazed mine as she tried to catch the dog and cradle it to her chest. I swore. "Take your damn rat and go away."

  4

  MADDIE

  What the actual hell just happened?

  Hugging Sheldon tighter to my chest, I glared at the big giant of a man stomping away from me. Or rather his broad back. I may have sneaked a peek at his butt too, but only because it would have been a crying shame not to.

  "Don't go into the mean man's yard again, okay?" I warned Sheldon as I turned and headed for my house. Not ashamed in the slightest, I tried to catch a glimpse of Mr. Personality before I slipped inside, but he was long gone.

  Everything that man lacked in manners, he made up for with his gorgeous looks. To be fair, gorgeous was an enormous understatement. The instant I had my first good look at him, the breath had left my lungs in one fell swoop.

  Because… wow.

  That strong jaw I'd gotten a glimpse of the other day was sharp and covered with dark whiskers that I bet would feel amazing scraping along my skin. He had these beautifully full lips that I envied and hated at the same time. No man should have been allowed to have a mouth like that.