Flame (Fire on the Mountain #2) Read Online Free PDF Page A

long as you’d like. Mr. Tanner has taken care of everything.”
    Arching an eyebrow, I take another bite, well aware the grease from the sausage is dribbling down my bottom lip, past my chin, and dripping onto my chest. “Yes, Mr. Tanner is quite good at taking care of everything . More men should be like him.” I pause to read his nametag, then add, “Don’t you think so, Kurt?”
    “Absolutely.” Another hard swallow as he shoots his hand out behind him to reach for the silver knob. “If you need anything else, please ring the front desk, Ms. Shavell.”
    Then, with a quick twist of his wrist and an abrupt about-face, he’s gone. And I erupt into a fit of giggles as I grab the handwritten note from Rory off the tray.

    I drop back onto the bed, grabbing a piece of bacon from the plate as I go and sigh contently. I really have a great life. Amazing family. Good friends. Promising career plan. Regular hookup. All drama-free. I wouldn’t change it for the world.
    So why am I still thinking about that damn button fly?

SATURDAY, JUNE 16
    WEDDING DAY.
    Ugh.
    I know the minute I wake up something isn’t right. My skin is clammy, my teeth are chattering even though I’m sweating, and my hand feels like it’s been shot when I accidentally bump it against the headboard. All that means one thing: fever .
    I’ll be the first to admit I’m a fucking pussy when I’m sick. On my bike, I’ve cracked three ribs, broken my left ankle twice and my right forearm once, and dislocated my shoulder more times than I can count, but the crud kicks my motherfuckin’ ass. I haven’t been sick in over five years, and the fact I’ve come down with something today of all days gives me another reason to hate this stupid-ass day.
    Exerting all the energy I can muster, I roll onto my side and snatch my cell phone from the nightstand, collapsing back onto the hotel pillow once the feat is accomplished. After three deep breaths, which also involves three excruciatingly painful swallows, I raise the phone up off the mattress and hit the “favorites” button with Emmy Sue’s picture next to it. Switching it into speakerphone mode before dropping it on top of the comforter next to me, I wait for her to answer.
    “Levi, I swear to God you or Gunner better be dying or in jail to call me at six-thirty on the morning of my wedding,” she growls into the receiver, not bothering with any false pleasantries. This is why I love her; she’s always real. No fluff. I just wish she wasn’t taking my roommate away from me.
    “Dying,” I croak. “I think I’m dying.”
    “Shit!” She shuffles around on the other end of the line, probably sitting up in bed and turning the light on. “The sore throat from last night? I thought that was just an excuse to get out of the rehearsal dinner and hook up with Tori?”
    I attempt to laugh—because I did, in fact, fuck her maid-of-honor Tori yesterday, only it was before the rehearsal dinner, not after. But the vibration of my voice feels like razorblades carving into my tonsils, and I end up hacking and coughing for several minutes, not getting a single word out in the process.
    She waits for me to stop before continuing her inquisition, the panic in her voice growing with each word. “Wow, you do sound terrible. Are you running a fever? Do you have any medicine? Have you called Gunner?”
    “No thermometer or medicine, but my bet is yes on the fever. It hurts to do anything. I don’t know where to go or what to do. Gunner doesn’t know. I called you first.”
    “’Kay, let me call my mom and see if she knows anyone we can get you into first thing this morning. The good news is the wedding isn’t until six, so we have some time to get you well enough to make it through the ceremony.” She sounds a little more optimistic than a few moments ago.
    Moaning in discomfort, I nod as if she can see it. “Just let me know what to do. I’ll be here in bed until then.”
    “I’ll call you right