Page 73 of Burning Embers
Jake attempts to pat down his hair as best he can, though the strands continue to stick up in every direction. “Yeah. At the local theater. It’s pretty boring, but the boss is cool, and the pay is stellar.” He glances at me consideringly out of the corner of his eye. “You know, I’ve heard that they’re hiring…”
“Could you get me an interview?” I ask eagerly.
Don’t get me wrong—I love fighting and the benefits that come with it, but that job isn’t the most reliable source of income. And since I’m turning eighteen soon, I’ll need to have a plan in case Hale throws me out on my ass.
Jake pouts. “I don’t know. You messed up my hair.”
“Pretty please.” I clasp my hands together in the universal prayer position and offer him the best puppy-dog eyes I’m capable of.
“Don’t make that face.”
“Pleeeease.”
“Izzy, I swear to God…” He flings an arm over his eyes as if it pains him to look at me.
“Pretty, pretty please.”
“Ugh! Fine! But you owe me an apology for messing up my glorious mane.” He dramatically tosses his head to the side, causing his blond hair to flop around.
“You messed up my hair first!” I protest.
Jake drops his gaze down to his phone, and a shit-eating grin erupts on his face. When his eyes meet mine again, they’re sparkling with mischief. “I know how you can make it up to me…”
Instantly, I’m suspicious. “How?”
“Well, you see, I invited my friend over to play some video games…” That infuriating grin of his never leaves his face. If anything, it grows, transforming into a full-fledged smile. “But I completely forgot I had to work.” He snaps his fingers in an “oh damn” motion. “I suppose you’ll just have to hang out with him instead.”
I narrow my eyes even further. “Youdidn’t.”
“Oh, I most definitely did.” He flicks his gaze back to his phone again to read an incoming text. “Ethan should be here in about twenty minutes. You’re welcome, by the way. Am I the best foster brother ever…or am I the best foster brother ever?”
The idiot gives himself a high five above his head as I fume.
Motherfucker.
Twenty-Four
ETHAN
You’re just going to play video games, Ethan. Just video games. You’re good at video games. Calm the fuck down.
I repeat that mantra again and again in my head as I pace across Hale’s front porch.
Gumballs in a candy store, it’s just a single video game! Izzy probably won’t even be there. Take a breath, man.
No one was more surprised than me when Jake texted and asked if I wanted to come over and play some games. We play together online a couple times a week, but I don’t think I’ve been to his house in months.
If situations were different, I’d probably refuse the invitation—I’m a shy, introverted nugget who prefers to play games in the sanctuary of my own room, thank you very much, where I can eat all the junk food I want without judgment—but I found myself eagerly replying yes to his message.
I want to see Izzy.
Fuck, I can’t get her out of my head, and it’s driving me insane. I half wonder if I imagined her. Is her hair truly as golden as I remember it being? Does her nose really crinkle when shesmiles? Does she have dimples, or was that just a trick of the light?
My wolf is almost pacing as restlessly as I am. He, too, wants to see her, smell her, taste her. The bastard repeatedly sends me images of her smiling face, as if to say, “You know what she looks like. Now go kidnap her.”
It’s futile to remind my wolf that kidnapping is a huge no-no. The furry predator just won’t listen to me.
My nerves tingling with anticipation, I place my knuckles against the front door, prepared to knock. At the last second, I chicken out and resume my pacing.