Up in Flames(32)

Was he shitting me? I didn’t drive out here to get my next marching orders. He knew that, too. I knocked again and tried to curb my temper.

He didn’t open the door back up.

I knocked one more time.

Nothing.

Fucker.

I hated this son of a bitch.





Nan


“Aunt Nan? Why is Major putting something on your car window?” Nate asked, as he stared out into the street where I’d parked my car and licked at his chocolate chip ice cream cone.

I turned to see Major walking away from my car and back to his truck. There was a pale green envelope tucked under my windshield wiper. Interesting. He hadn’t come to hand it to me today.

“Maybe he needed to leave me a note and didn’t want to bother us,” I suggested.

“We could’ve shared our ice cream with him. Don’t he know that?” Nate replied sincerely.

“Maybe the temptation to ruin his dinner was too much, so he decided to stay away from it.”

Nate thought about that and nodded like it made sense. “Guess adults think about that. I just want the ice cream.”

I smiled and licked my orange sorbet. “Honestly, Nate, I do, too.”

Nate beamed at me, and the touch of ice cream on his upper lip was precious. “That’s why we’re buddies, you and me. We think like each other.”

No, we didn’t. His thoughts were pure and big-hearted like his parents’. He loved with everything he had. He accepted the faults in others and didn’t hold grudges. “That’s the best compliment I can ever be given,” I told him.

He scrunched his nose. “What’s a com-plee-uh-mint?”

A laugh escaped me, and I felt warm inside.



When I got back to the car after dropping Nate off at home, I took the envelope I’d tucked under my seat away from Nate’s curious hands and opened it.

Attitude. Another thing that makes you beautiful.

I reread it three times before tucking it into my purse and heading home.



Pink, purple, cream, blue, and mint green. Five envelopes that had slowly gotten to my heart. I wasn’t saying I loved Major. I just loved his words. The thought behind each note. They were simple. Paper with words written on them. They had been free. No money spent yet more meaningful than any gift I had received, because they made me feel like maybe I was worth more. Maybe I was enough. Maybe I could be loved.

Not once had a note said I was beautiful because of my outward appearance, except, of course, for the clothing comment. But still, it had been more about my choice in clothing, not what my face or body looked like.

It was time I spoke to Major instead of screaming at him. This was what he should have started with, not those ridiculous roses. This took thought and emotion. If he’d done this the day I’d returned, we might be together now.

An image of Gannon flashed in my head, and I winced from the pain in my chest. No . . . this wasn’t enough to make that pain go away. He hadn’t called or texted. He hadn’t reached out to explain. He had done nothing to stop me from running that day. Even knowing the truth about him, I wanted him to try to see me. I wanted him to fight for me. For Gannon, I wanted to be enough.

Only a few short weeks ago, I’d wanted to be enough for Major, and how quickly that had changed. Too little too late, they said. Unless I could teach my heart to let go of what I couldn’t have and embrace what wanted me. If I could just try with Major, then the pain from the memory of Gannon and what could have been would disappear.

I hoped.





Major


When my phone vibrated, I wanted to toss it across the room. If only I could slam it into Cope’s smug face. God, that man was driving me nuts. I wasn’t even awake yet, and he was sending orders.

Jerking the phone toward my face, I rubbed my eyes and read the text.

I’m ready to listen. It wasn’t Cope. It was Nan.

Holy fuck! The mystery envelopes had worked! Hot damn!

I tossed back the covers and jumped out of bed, then realized I should call Cope. Dialing his number, I stumbled toward the bathroom, still groggy from sleep.

“She’s ready” was his greeting. How the fuck did he know that?

“Yeah,” I replied, hating how he had taken the wind out of my sails.

“Give her the yellow one today. Then treat her right.” The call ended with a click, and I stood there wondering why I’d even bothered to call the man. He knew everything. I hated the bastard.





Nan


I wanted to ask Major questions about how he had treated me before and what had made him decide he wanted me now. Was it the fact that I was unattainable and he liked a challenge? Now that the challenge was over, would this all end? Should I open my heart up to him again? Could I even do that? Was my heart changed too much now? Maybe we could really just be friends.