Heart of Thorns (Shadow Valley U Book 2)
Heart of Thorns: Chapter 32

Rhys meets me downstairs. The girls are staying in my room for the night, and I don’t think there’s a chance in hell I’m going to get any sleep. Judging by the way Rhys stares at me, his whole body tense, he’s thinking the same.

That’s fine—we can plan.

“Shame about Cross,” Rhys mutters. “I was anticipating his fight.”

I shrug. Cross Lopez is a beast on the lacrosse field, but he also strikes me as an angry person. He found a useful way of channeling his rage, though. The guys who organize the underground cage fighting ring pay their fighters well. There was a rumor a while ago that he fights so he can pay for school.

Anyway, I’ve never actually talked to Cross, but I heard that he is an impressive fighter. While I mirror Rhys’s sentiments about the night being cut short, a warehouse fire isn’t going to stop him.

We’ll have a chance to go again.

“Let’s focus.” I grab a water bottle and drop onto the couch. “Who did you see in the warehouse? From the team.”

He names off a few, then pauses. “Are we excluding them because they were there, or including them because of the same reason?”

I frown. “It would be kind of dumb for them to show their face, then go and set the fire, right?”

“Unless it was a spontaneous thing because of…” He mouths Briar’s name.

I scowl at him. “She got that creepy note, and then she goes to the warehouse. And, what? The arsonist sees her and decides to freak her out even more?”

He rolls his eyes. “It’s the same reason you dragged me out of the house as soon as you got her text. Even you were worried.”

“I was not⁠—”

“Don’t lie to yourself, hmm?”

I sag back into the cushions and cover my face.

The worst thing is—he’s right. I’ve been trying to put a little distance between Briar and me. We keep our interactions outside of the fake relationship short and to the point. I haven’t been over to her place since after the dinner, and beyond stolen touches when we work on her exercises, or the very pointedly public ones…

Nothing.

It’s better that way.

Rhys clears his throat, and I drop my hands.

“Fine,” I snap. “I was concerned.”

And my concern is affecting everything.

“What if her ex is the one setting the fires?” Rhys asks suddenly. He leans forward. “Think about it—he knew she was going to be painting the mural last spring. It could’ve been an honest-to-God attempt to actually kill her. And then when she survives, he freaks and breaks up with her. But then she starts sniffing around the football team, so he tries to get close again.”

My stomach flips. “It would make sense,” I allow. “Did you see him tonight?”

“Not before the chaos.” He frowns. “And after, I was too busy trying to find Lydia and Marley, then keep us all from being trampled.”

Right.

“I only saw Aaron and his girlfriend.” I think back. “He was kind of near us, though, and he took her hand and got the fuck out quicker than we did.”

“Good thing,” Rhys mutters. “Because he lives with us.”

Well, yeah.

“We suck as detectives,” I add.

He laughs and leans forward, holding out his water to tap against mine. I shake my head and do it, chuckling under my breath.

Maybe the police will have better luck with this one.

“Thorne, wake up.”

I open my eyes and groan. Bright sunlight streams in through the living room windows, creating a halo effect around Briar’s head. It takes a second to realize that I fell asleep, and I shoot upright.

“Whoa, easy.” She grasps my shoulders. “You okay?”

“I didn’t mean to…” The sound of snoring draws my attention.

Rhys is passed out on the other end of the couch, his mouth open.

She giggles. “Yeah, well, you did.”

Her laughter does something to me.

Something bad.

The feeling from last night, the sick-with-panic feeling, comes back. Briar being scared devastated me, and I’ve been doing everything in my power to help her. The same as she’s been helping me with my parents.

But that hasn’t really been working, has it?

None of it has.

This fake relationship isn’t serving its purpose anymore. My parents still want me to date other girls of their choosing—and even when I say no, like I did the other day, they tell me I should still have dinner with them as friends. Just in case.

And Briar…

All I can think about is her. Her expression. Her eyes. The way she bites her lip. Her perfectly timed scowls and scoffs. The little gasps she makes when she’s on the edge, and the whimpers as she comes. Her body tensing around me.

The smell of her.

The taste of her.

It clashes horribly in my mind when I realize I haven’t cast a single thought about my upcoming football game. Our opponents are formidable, but have I watched any of their tapes from this season? Have I done any fucking research?

No. Practice has been practice. But around it, when I should be leading my team through example, I’ve been burying my dick in her pussy. I’ve been trying to catch a maybe arsonist.

So just… stop.

I take a breath. It’s like being on the field, with a minute left in the fourth quarter and one last play. One last decision to make.

I stand, forcing her to step back. “I was so fucking worried about you last night.”

She tilts her head. “I… I know. I’m sorry I freaked out.”

I can’t do this.

“Do you know what I’ve been doing at practice almost every fucking day this week?” I move around her, needing some distance between us. When she doesn’t reply, I tell her. “I’ve been asking subtle questions of my teammates. Checking if anyone had a freaking alibi for the night of the fire. Wondering if anyone was going to act suspicious.”

“Thorne—”

“My only dream is to make it pro, Briar.” I cross my arms. My stomach feels like it’s turned into a pit of snakes. “Football has been it. And I know it’s not in the cards for me, according to my parents, but it doesn’t make the dream any less real.”

Her expression flickers. “I know that.”

“No, you don’t.” Panic constricts my chest. “I’ve been so distracted lately.”

“By me?”

“Yes, by you.” I force myself to stand still. To look her in the face, even when I want to run out the door and hide from this conversation. “This is a fake relationship, and it feels⁠—”

“Real,” she whispers.

“Yes.” Yes. It feels fucking real. “And I can’t do it.”

Her eyebrows lift. “Excuse me?”

“I can’t do real, Briar.” Fuck, why does this hurt so much? “This is my last season playing football, and I am not even thinking about the game. I’m thinking about you. And I just need it all to fucking stop for five seconds. I won’t do this. I don’t even care that my parents didn’t believe our ruse. I’m losing sight of what I love most in life because of you.”

She stares at me. And stares and stares and stares.

My heart cracks. “Please leave.”

“Cassius—”

“Leave,” I order, throwing my hand out, one finger pointed toward the front door.

She bolts.

My gaze falls to Rhys, who is doing an admirable impression of a sleeping man. The front door slams, and his eyes crack open.

I let out a sigh, somehow feeling eight hundred times worse than I did two minutes ago. If I thought this was going to make me feel better… I was dead fucking wrong.