“Hmm.” He looked rueful. “And she probably shouldn’t know I’m here.”
Her cheeks flamed. “No. She’d tell ”
“I get it.” But he smiled and gave her another quick kiss, before dropping to fish his sweatshirt off the ground. “I’ll see you in school.”
Her entire body felt flushed. Her lips felt raw, swollen. Anyone would know she’d been making out.
Right?
She didn’t want him to leave, but her body felt like gelatin.
Gabriel kissed her again, and she caught his face in her hands, holding him there.
He laughed, softly, gently, a sound just for her. “I don’t want you to get banned from the farm,” he whispered.
Layne nodded. He drew back.
But then he stopped. “I forgot. I actually came to thank you.”
“You mean there’s more?”
Now he laughed for real, and she loved how it stole the tension from his eyes. “Later. No, seriously. For this.” He dug a piece of folded notebook paper from his sweatshirt pocket, and she took it.
Then he was sprinting out of the barn, yanking his hoodie over his head as he went.
Layne touched a finger to her lips. She unfolded the notebook paper, wondering what he’d written. Her heart fluttered again.
A note?
No, better. His math homework. He’d done the last two questions. Struggled, clearly, based on the eraser marks.
But he’d done them.
And he’d gotten them both right.
Gabriel shoveled cafeteria macaroni and cheese into his mouth, but he didn’t really taste it.
Hunter was watching him with a disgusted expression. They were the only two people at the table. “I don’t know how you can eat that crap.”
“I’m hungry.”
Hunter sliced into the piece of grilled chicken in front of him.
He was the only guy Gabriel had ever seen use a plastic knife in the cafeteria. “And you can slow down. I promise I’m not going to steal it from you.”
“Are you going to bitch at me for talking with my mouth full next?”
“I just don’t get what the big rush is.” Hunter speared a piece of broccoli. Gabriel hadn’t even known the cafeteria sold broccoli.
“I promised Layne I’d meet her after this period.” Theoreti-cally, so they could go to the library and work on today’s math assignment. Really, so she could walk through the halls without getting hassled. Gabriel had found her hiding in the back corner of the library this morning, her face pale. Even then, he hadn’t realized how bad it was, until trig, when Taylor started in on her.
Gabriel had put a stop to it, real quick.
“That Ryan Stacey guy is in my first period chem class,” said Hunter. “I didn’t know who he was until he showed up looking like he’d gotten hit in the face by a pickup truck.”
Gabriel stabbed at the congealed mass of noodles. “If he lays a hand on her again, that might happen.”
Hunter was quiet for a moment. “Does she know?” he asked quietly. “About you?”
“No.” Gabriel watched Hunter push at the chicken on his tray and wondered if he was really that transparent. “Did you ever tell anyone?”
“Just Becca, but she already knew.” A shrug. “Someone said Layne was caught in a fire when she was young, that she’s got scars ”
“She does.” Gabriel glared at him. “So what?”
“You don’t think there’s something . . . interesting about a girl with burn scars getting involved with a guy who can control ”
“Control.” What a joke. Gabriel snorted and shoveled more food into his mouth. “I’m not sure we can call it control yet.”
“We’re getting better.” Hunter paused. “Do you feel it?”
“Not good enough.” They’d almost gotten caught Saturday night. Four homes in a row, fully engulfed. Gabriel was in and out of fire so many times that he’d started to lose track of which house he was in, of how many people were left to save.
By the time he got to the last woman, they’d been there for hours. He’d been exhausted, disoriented from inhaling so much smoke. She’d been unconscious, and he’d nearly dropped her in the middle of her flaming living room.
Michael had shown him her picture in the paper the next morning, bandaged and sedated in some generic hospital. Michael’s brown eyes had been rock hard as he demanded answers Gabriel couldn’t give.
“I can’t believe they’re no closer to catching this guy,” said Hunter. “We’re losing time, waiting for the fires to turn up on the police scanner.”
“Mike’s been going out with the fire marshal’s daughter.”
Gabriel still thought it was a dick move. “She says they have no conclusive leads.”
“Except you.”
Gabriel rolled his eyes. “Yeah, well. We both know I’m not the one starting fires.”
“Who’s starting fires?” Calla Dean dropped onto the bench beside Hunter. Actually, she straddled it. The blue streaks in her hair were gone, replaced with fluorescent pink ones. She’d braided a small section and tied off the end with a yellow feather.
“We’re talking about the ones on the news,” Hunter said smoothly.
Calla picked up a piece of Hunter’s broccoli and popped it into her mouth. Hunter watched this with a bemused expression on his face, but didn’t stop her.
“The arson stuff?” she said. “Someone’s got a fire fetish, huh?”
Gabriel reached out and turned her wrist over, exposing the flame tattoos. “Go figure.”
She snorted. “I got those to piss off my aunt. Did you know the first fire was right next door to my house?” Without waiting for an answer, she took another piece of broccoli and made a face. “What, you couldn’t add some butter?”
“I didn’t realize I’d be sharing.”
“Mind if I eat with you?” She took a third piece.
“Looks like you’re already doing that,” said Gabriel.
“I don’t mind,” said Hunter. He pushed the tray her way.
“Ugh. No way. I need salt. I’ll be back.”
Then she unfolded from the bench to weave through the tables toward the lunch line.
Hunter pulled his tray back and sliced another piece of chicken.
Gabriel watched him for a moment. “What the hell was that?
You two have a thing now?”
“No.” Hunter paused. “Maybe. I can’t get a read.”
“A girl doesn’t steal your food if she’s not into you.”
“She’s unusual.”
“Dude, no offense, but you’re unusual.”
Hunter smiled briefly but then sobered. “We talked for a long time Friday night. Her father is serving in Afghanistan, so she lives with her aunt and uncle. I think she’s lonely.”
Gabriel looked for Calla in the lunch line. Punk hair notwithstanding, she had a good six inches on most of the girls around her, and she helped the effect by wearing a shirt that revealed a long stretch of tan midriff. “Calla Dean is the captain of the girls’ volleyball team. She could probably snap her fingers and have guys bringing her lunch on their knees. She is not lonely.”
“I don’t think that’s the kind of attention she’s looking for.”
Gabriel shoveled another mouthful of macaroni into his mouth. “Oh, you mean you didn’t spend the whole evening showing her your Arabic tattoo collection?”
“Farsi. And I don’t have a collection. Just this one.” He pointed to the inside of his elbow.
“What’s it say?”
“Nothing important.” Hunter nodded toward Calla, who must have grabbed something easy, because she was already paying. “What do you want to do about the fires?”
Gabriel scowled. It was easier talking girls. “I don’t know.”
Hunter’s voice was careful. “Do you want to stop?”
“No.” Gabriel glanced across the cafeteria, at where his brothers were sitting. Chris and Becca, Nick and Quinn. He hadn’t spoken to any of them since he’d spent Sunday sleeping off the effects of Saturday’s fire. “For the first time, I feel like I’m doing something right.”
CHAPTER 30
Almost by accident, Layne found her days falling into an easy routine.
It shouldn’t have been easy, what with the catcalls in the hallway at school, the jokes about scars and burn fetishes. The worst was when she didn’t know what they were talking about then it was embarrassing and humiliating.
Then Gabriel would appear at her shoulder and she’d remember she wasn’t alone.
Every day, they spent fifth period in the library, going through the day’s math assignment. Gabriel was getting better. He wasn’t fast, but he was trying. She could see it in the classroom, too. Instead of slouching in his seat, scowling at the board, he was actually paying attention. When he dropped his homework in the basket on Ms. Anderson’s desk, he did it almost defiantly, like throwing down a gauntlet.
He’d be back on the basketball team in no time.
In a way, it made Layne sad. Because now, after the last bell rang, he sat with her on the bleachers and watched Simon’s basketball practice. In a few weeks, he’d be in practice himself, and she’d be sitting here alone.
At first, Gabriel would make little comments to her, about what Simon needed to do to improve. When Simon would glance up at them, Layne would translate Gabriel’s remarks into quick signs.
When Gabriel realized what she was doing, he asked her to show him the signs, too.
She’d almost fallen off the bleachers. No one had ever asked her to teach sign language.
So she’d shown him some basics, for the most common criti-cisms he was shouting out, blushing as his eyes held hers while she moved his fingers into the right formation.
But afternoons in the school gym couldn’t compare to the mornings at the farm. She’d always loved the cool silence, the easy solitude when it was just her and the horses. But now each moment carried a hint of anticipation.
Gabriel had shown up every morning.
He always looked deliciously sexy, his hair tousled from the run, a night’s worth of stubble along his jaw. He told her it took twice as long to get to the farm as it did to get home. When she’d given him a puzzled look, he’d almost blushed and said, “I don’t want to be a sweaty mess when I get here.” Then he’d kissed her for so long that she’d forgotten her name, and he’d whispered against her cheek, “But it’s okay if I’m a sweaty mess when I leave . . . ”
But he never pushed her, never demanded more than she was ready to give. His hands never ventured outside of those safety zones, never even tried to get past her clothing. If her body stiffened at his touch, he backed off.
But now, after days of being good, her imagination was starting to get the worst of her. What if Gabriel felt her scars and thought she was disgusting? Talking about them in theory was a lot different from seeing red, puckered skin running up the side of her abdomen.
Thursday morning, they were lying on a grassy hill some distance behind the barn. Her horse was grazing a few yards away, a rope trailing from his halter. The air was crisp, but the sun warmed her cheeks, making her drowsy. She didn’t want to close her eyes, in case there was any chance she’d open them to find out it was still Sunday morning, that this week was just a dream.
The horse snorted at a butterfly, but then went back to grazing.
Gabriel turned his head to look at her. “Why doesn’t he run away?”
Layne gave a short laugh. “I keep asking myself the same thing about you.”
He rolled up onto one elbow to look down at her. It put the sun behind him and made his hair fall into his eyes. “I’m not going anywhere.”