12.

The stage belonged to Norah and Donny. All eyes stared at them as they sensually danced together. They made erotic gestures in public that made my cheeks burn red. If a statement was what they were looking for, they were clearly making it.

Jesse reached forward, urging me deeper into the crowd.

My heart rate sped up as we got a closer view of the couple. Instead of grabbing me, Jesse stood a good foot away, quietly waiting. Patient. It was such an unfamiliar trait, and it blindsided me.

"You're one of a kind," I murmured, tilting my head to the side as I carefully studied Jesse's profile.

He was a strong man with an unwavering point of view. When he got an idea in his head, it stuck better than super glue. It made me over think his motives and intentions. He wasn't being a jerk or rubbing in that I was stuck somewhere I didn't want to be.

"Girls love slow jams," he beamed. "Especially ones so bittersweet."

"I don't like dancing to slow, depressing songs. I'm sorry, but I don't want to dance, Jesse."

"You're just scared," he teased.

"I'm not scared," I growled back, my cheeks stained bright red. "I just don't want an unnecessary attention. Can't you respect that?"

The song continued to play, adding a morose overtone to our conversation. As the song hit the second verse, Jesse took a step forward. His eyes were loaded with intensity as he shot a quick look at Norah and Donny. Torment reflected in his eyes as he forced himself to look away. He just didn't dislike Donny, he hated him with every fiber of his being. And as strange as it was, I could relate to that amount of anger.

"Shall we?" Jesse asked, his tone becoming uneasy as he held his hands out, palm up.

I hesitated, my heart pounding. "I-I don't want to cause a scene, Jesse."

He gave a blistering smile, urging me to grab his hands. When I didn't take the encouragement, he reached out, grabbed my hands, and lightly tugged me closer to him. "Trust me," he finally began, "our scene can't top theirs."

It felt like pins and needles pricking the back of my neck. Fighting off the shiver that went down my spine was useful as I forced myself backwards, needing that personal strength. No matter how hard I fought it, Jesse was an attractive guy, and lately all my body ever did was react to him.

Why now?

I didn't want anything to do with him or his arrogance. The only reason he bothered to be nice was because I was number one in his grand scheme: making his sister jealous. I didn't see how Norah would care what kind of relationship I had with him.

"This is such a bad idea," I hissed, forcing distance between the two of us. "You know what, this whole festival was one bad idea. Let's just fold this hand and let her win, Jesse. I'm damn tired of giving people more reasons to hate me."

"You know what," he whispered into my ear. "I think you're just scared."

I froze, becoming stiffer.

"Loosen up," he commanded. "And what's with all this space? We're too far apart. No one's going to believe it."

And deep down, as I took a step closer to his chest, I wasn't sure I wanted anyone to believe it.

The sun slowly began to set, bathing everything in deep oranges and purples. Everything had finally slowed down, but Jesse and I continued to dance. In his arms, it was easy to forget why we were fighting or what we were trying to prove. Being there with him didn't feel as disgusting as I thought it would.

But I couldn't deny the truth.

My attraction for him was growing stronger. I hated almost everything about him, but right here in this moment, I found it impossible to find a new fault. The guy could dance, and it was such a phenomenal skill.

"Where did you learn to dance?" I asked.

Jesse barely spoke the whole time. His chin lay on the top of my head, and his arms were completely wrapped around mine. We were so close that our bodies were flush with each other. Along with the brutal heat, we were already sweated through, and I wanted a break, but McIntyre wouldn't have it. He clutched onto me tighter and didn't leave room for argument.

"Norah taught me," he hesitated. "She thought all southern men needed to know how to do it. I practiced a lot, mostly with myself, and I think she was disappointed when I stopped dancing altogether."

I lifted my head, suddenly curious. "You stopped?"

"Yes." He paused, his eyes wandering towards Norah. "My sister went through this rough patch a few years ago. She dated a guy, very similar to Donny, and things ended badly. This guy could dance like I've never seen before. He gave pointers to Norah who in turn gave pointers to me. But when they broke up, any kind of dancing reminded her of him, so I've tried to avoid it as much as I can."

Awed, I just stared. Big, tough Jesse McIntyre was burnt and rough around the edges on the outside, but on the inside, he was warm and soft. The revelation that he was playing into a stereotype hit me full force as the song reached an end.

I wondered just how tough he was, and why he wanted to deny the truth. For one minute, I wish he'd be himself.

"I think she respects you a lot," I told him as the band took a brief intermission. "Don't worry unless she's gone. As long as she's here, she cares. I don't think she'll ever see what we see in Donny, but we've played our part. Maybe it's time for her to make this mistake. Learning is the only way she'll understand."

"I know," he sighed. "I'm just sick of this. I can't even get a reaction out of her, and I'm dancing with you." He forced a laugh. I knew he wasn't happy to dance with me or talk to me, but I was his ticket to getting Norah to wave the white flag.

She wouldn't.

No amount of dancing was going to get her attention. Norah was smart. She could spot a game from far away. We were going to have to try a lot harder to get her attention.

"Are you thirsty?" I asked, my throat dry. "Let's get something to drink. We can regroup and try something different."

"And if she doesn't react?" he asked, his tone unsure. "Then what?"

"Then we know it's time to accept defeat and let sleeping dogs lie. If she wants to talk, she will, Jesse. Is making her angry or jealous really how you want to deal with the situation? She's never going to see Donny as a toxic leech that doesn't really care. Maybe it's time she crashes and burns on her own. I know we've talked about this before, but this is it. If it doesn't work, I'm done. There is a fine line I don't want to cross," I told him quietly. "I've turned my entire life into drama. I don't want to leave more messes if I can help it."

"You talk too damn much," Jesse cut in, aggravation laced between his words. "Getting you to help was the worst idea I could ever conjure. You were close and convenient. That's it. I'm not turning to you for guidance or for an inspiring speech. News flash: I don't fucking care," he growled.

"Get a grip, Jesse! Make up your mind while you're at it. You're too damn bipolar and I'm sick of it. Maybe I'm a coward. Maybe I can't recognize and resolve the problems in front of my face, but I am not a bad person. When you dare to judge me again, keep that in mind."

The song faded out. Seconds later introduced a faster, aggressive beat. Jesse gripped his hands on my hips as if he were holding on for dear life. Anger pooled in his eyes as he ground his teeth and muttered profane words under his breath.

More than once, I tried to slip out of his grasp, but he held on tighter. The fact that he refused to release me made my heart pound harder. I hated him so much, and I had to get away. The more our skin touched, the more the fire burned in the pit of my stomach.

"Just go," I whimpered, my wall crumbling.

I was quickly losing the battle. Being strong and appearing invincible was the worst idea I could ever think of.

"No," Jesse growled fiercely. "You're the running away type, and I'll be damned if I let you flee Hemingway to dodge the truth."

"You don't care about me, Jesse," I reminded him. "You're only talking to me right now because you want Norah back in your good graces. She's a nice girl, but I don't think this ridiculous act is fooling anyway."

"You don't think I can act?"

I snorted. "No. You just love women. Why would you need to act? You're already attracted to me, aren't you?"

"Don't get a big head," he scolded. "You're not really that pretty, but you're easy on the eyes."

"Easy on the eyes?" I cried out, my eyes wide and red. "I can't believe that you'd just insult and compliment me in the same sentence. You are a sorry excuse for a man, Jesse. I hope you realize that."

"I'm an asshole," he stressed. "I want to be nice, but I can't. When will you cooperate?"

"Norah wishes I'd burn in the fiery pits of hell. I'll admit, at first, it sounded like a half decent idea, but I'm done with this. I'm sick of your attitude…" I trailed off, my thoughts leaving me as Norah looked in my direction. Her face was hard, unemotional even, but her eyes sparkled with electricity. She started to walk forward and my stomach dropped through the floor. "Oh shit," I cursed multiple times. "The happy couple is coming this way."

"Norah's a good person despite what you think, Winnie."

I felt like I had been struck in the head with a club. Lately, from everything going on, I began to drift farther away from my faith than I wanted. It made me think of that day back in Nevada where I'd do what I had to – to prove to the world and everyone else that loving God never changed.

But Hemingway had changed me. If I didn't think about God everyday, I wondered what kind of person that made me.

"Relax. Let loose," he commanded, grabbing my hands. "I'm up for a show if you are."

I snorted. "Didn't that backfire?"

Jesse smirked. "She's coming our way isn't she?"

"She's stomping towards us with Donny on our heels. You know," I began quietly, "the smart thing would be to wave the white flag Jesse. I'm not into this anymore…"

"Surrender?" He laughed. "No way. As her brother, it is my duty to be a pain in the ass."

"And as a friend once, it is my duty to take a step back when need be," I reasoned, growing more anxious as Donny and Norah were within a ten foot radius of us.

I went to sidestep out of the way when Jesse grabbed a hold of my waist, pulling me back towards him; I got another whiff of his amazing cologne, and I knew I was a goner. I was virtually putty in his hands just from flesh-to-flesh contact.

"You will keep up the show," he threatened, his lips tickling my ears, "and you will enjoy every minute of it if you'd like to get back home this month. Got it?"

Waves of defeat pounded into me as I realized the seriousness of his words. He was my ticket out of here, and sometimes it felt like he was trying to find any excuse to keep me here. But I had to get back home and make things right again.

"Got it," I whispered, squeezing my eyes clothes and burying my face in his chest.

To anyone else, it looked intimidate. But the truth was: I was too damn tired of keeping a sinking ship afloat. It was the time I had to jump ship before it sank, and have faith that the right person would keep me above icy waters.

"Jesse. Bronwyn."

I pulled away from Jesse, just enough that we were no longer touching. Being close to him was toxic.

"Hi," I squeaked out, uncomfortably, as Donny stepped forward.

"I didn't know you guys had a thing," Donny piped up, a little scathingly as he gloated. "In fact, I'm pretty sure this is nothing, isn't it? Jesse McIntyre only dates supermodels, and no offense, but you're so out of his league doll."

My eyes widened. I wasn't blessed with abnormally high self-esteem. I was okay being average looking because it was easier to slip through the cracks that way. Of course Seth had always told me I was beautiful and worthy, but looking back on it, it was hard to feel anything but insulted. Most things that came out of his mouth were an exaggeration or lie. I knew that better than anyone.

"Donny," Jesse warned, suddenly standing in front of me, "what do you want?"

"An apology," he growled. "She tried to sabotage our relationship…"

"I think you were doing a good job of that before either one of us got involved, asshole," Jesse spat, his muscles contracting as he held back his anger.

Jesse was very nicely toned. I didn't know his history with fights, but if I had to venture a guess, I'd say he was pretty skilled with knocking guys around. He had an enormous temper, and with such a large ego, he wasn't going to be talked down by someone of little importance.

"I guess I was wrong. Sorry. I'm not going to apologize again. Truthfully, I'm just done with this whole conversation."

As I turned, Jesse reached out and grabbed my arm. I wriggled out of his light hold. "Can we just drop this? I'm done with trying to make her jealous. I'm done waiting around for my car that you'll never fix. I'm just tired of doing what everyone else thinks I should be. Have fun arguing guys, but I'm done keeping coal in the fire."

The strength and firmness of my words had even surprised me. It was a rare occasion that I stood up for myself, but I was tired of being the giant elephant in the room. I had put a chain of events into motion that I no longer wanted anything to do with.

Night loomed over the horizon when I met up with Becky. She was settled on a small, grassy hill, sitting atop a blanket. Next to her, her daughter snored quietly. The large fire—almost campfire style—made everyone settle down even as they continued to pound back beers.

Most of the crowd had fizzled away. Jesse, Donny, and Norah had left over an hour ago. It was a nice feeling not to think about any of them and how they had intertwined themselves into my life over the past couple of weeks. Even so, the drama they constantly brought to the table was more than I could stand. The McIntyre's were pretty decent people. Of course I couldn't say that about Donny. Still, Jesse and Norah and even Max were three people I wouldn't quickly forget.

"Hi," I whispered quietly as I reached Becky. She was stroking her daughter's hair in such a motherly affection that I felt a pang in my heart.

"You're the talk of the festival tonight," she exclaimed equally quiet. "For whatever that's worth, I do admire you, Bron. Today was the first day I saw your eyes sparkle since you've been here."

"I don't care much for gossip," I admitted. "I don't know what's wrong with me, either. I feel so different from one minute to the next. Do I even know what I want?"

"You're still young. Keep that in mind. You have room for trial and error, but when you get to be my age, it's smarter to know what you want before you reach out for it."

"Your wisdom is spot on…"

"For being a small town waitress? I get it. I'm not offended, Bron. Judging and stereotyping is hard to beat—even if the thought is only for a moment before you realize what you're doing."

Comfortable and cooling down, I took a seat on the grass, and pulled my knees up to my chest. Something was calming about Hemingway and the way things transpired. There was no great rush. It was about taking the time to try a little of everything before making a big decision. Being there made me feel like I had time to get my head on straight, like there was nothing but time to get on with my life and beg for Abby's forgiveness.

But time wasn't on my side. With open wound after open wound, all I ever did was get it infected until the disease started to spread. I knew I had to get back home, and I had to stop thinking it. There had to be a course of action before I ruined our friendship beyond repair. I found that I didn't really care about my parent's and their claims that I was only a foster child. With Abby, Tommy, and Isaac, they were my family, and running off in search of two people could never fill that position made me feel like the biggest fool around.

I swallowed, misery setting in as the locals set up last minute preparations for the fireworks in the distance. A large radius of the soon-to-be blast site was taped off, and local police officers manned the lines. I couldn't remember the last time anywhere, even Bliss, where being in such a tight-knit community was the only thing.

"Penny for your thoughts?" she asked as her daughter, Penny, began to stir. "Not you sweetie," she cooed. "Rest, darling."

I genuinely smiled. "About my inability to notice the obvious. About why I had to run away in the first place. About why karma is giving me a taste of my own medicine."

Becky suddenly looked concerned. "Bronwyn, you're human. Because of this, it's a guaranteed fact that mistakes will be made. We're not robots. Sometimes we deviate from our original plans because we're sick and tired of what the same, constant path brings. I'm not going to say that you didn't mess up, but you can really measure a person's character by how far they're willing to go to correct their mistakes."

"Right. But what about Jesse? I was pretty harsh," I admitted.

"And he wasn't? Don't take his words so wholeheartedly," Becky suggested. "That boy's been hitting the bottle a little too heavily today."

"Drinking?" Any hope I had shattered. "He's been working on getting completely drunk from this morning. Why haven't I noticed?"

Beck placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder. "Dear, you have a lot on your plate right now. I thought Jesse would be a good distraction, but that boy is a magnet for trouble. How about I do you a favor? If I can get you back home and repair lost friendships, will you promise to come back?"

"I-I don't know, Becky," I whispered, staring at the shiny, green grass. "Words aren't going to fix what a selfish friend I've been. This could take months of rebuilding. And how can I possibly pay you back?"

"Right now I think your friend still needs time to heal. She'll eventually come around again. You did this for her, and even while she doesn't understand it now, she will understand it later. Best friends can survive anything with persistence, hard work, and faith, Bronwyn. You can never lose faith in those around you that care so much. God has brought you here for a reason, and I'm glad for every moment we get to spend together."

I suddenly felt alive and happy. "You're religious?" I asked eagerly. "I've felt so lost and confused. I admit, God hasn't been much focus lately…"

"We all lose sight and get off track. How about we start things right? I go to church every Sunday morning. And I make every other Wednesday night service. I may not look like someone who loves or obeys God, but I am."

Hope spread through my body. Maybe there was a chance after all.

"I'd love that," I whispered just as an announcement for the fireworks was made.

Penny shot up, squealing in delight, as the community of Hemingway cheered.

The fireworks started momentarily. They were slow going, teasing even, as they built up to a finale. Their display was nothing compared to the ones in big cities, but I enjoyed the show from moment to finish. The four old men from the diner that always at the counter were hooting, hollering, and throwing their hats in the air as the sky exploded in a spectrum of colors.

"They're so different," I told Becky as I pointed to the men.

She nodded quickly. "A little excitement and color can do wonders for the coldest of men, even."

I sat back, finding that a response wasn't necessary as I sat back and watched the last firework fizzle out. I imagined the clean up would be a handful as they called for volunteers to help with the cleaning efforts. By that point, everyone was too tired to hunt for the remnants in the dark, so the mayor scheduled a clean up first thing in the morning for anyone open.

"Why don't you help out?" Becky insisted. "If you're going to get out of Podunk town, you might as well get to spend one last morning with the locals."

"Somehow, I'd feel too bad turning this down."

"Good. Now, let's get out of here. It's past Penny's bedtime and the guest bedroom is a sorry sight."

"I'm staying at your place," I blurted in shock.

"Yes," she spoke in a softer voice. "After your one-on-one time with the McIntyre's, I think it's best you give Jesse a night of cooling off. Being knocked off his high horse is not an easy fall for a headstrong guy like him."

I nodded, agreeing completely. "Well, I'm not going to gloat about being bucked from that horse of his, but I hope that fall teaches him something good."

"Me too."

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is a very long time coming. Two months I think? That's terrible. I don't know what happened, but I could not get this chapter to start. Once I got going, it was good. Things are better now that I have an explosive chapter planned for the next day. It's relieving to connect all the dots, and I appreciate anyone who's been patient enough to wait. With my work season slowing down, I feel I have plenty of time to dream about these characters again. No matter how long the wait, this story will never ever be ditched.

Faded Soulfire