Scars don’t always show on the surface.
Stefan Grey was once the life of the party, the firefighter with a smile that could light up a room. But after the flames took half his face and left him broken inside, he hides behind the shadows, convinced he’s too jagged to be worthy of love. Until the night Anna Alexander comes crashing back into his life.
Anna thought she’d escaped her small town and found her happily ever after. Instead, she walked straight into a nightmare. Bruised, battered, and running from an abusive relationship, she turns to the only people she trusts ... her brother and the scarred man who has haunted her heart for years.
Stefan wants to keep his distance. She’s his best friend’s little sister. She deserves someone whole. But the fire between them refuses to be contained, burning hotter with every stolen glance and every forbidden touch.
When Anna’s past refuses to let her go, Stefan will stop at nothing to protect her, even if it means risking the only family he has left, and the fragile heart he swore he’d never give away again.
Some loves don’t heal the scars. They make you brave enough to wear them.
Finally, I can’t take it anymore. “You know you don’t have to do that, right?”
He blinks. “Do what?”
“Hide your face like it’s going to send me screaming. News flash, Stefan, I grew up with you. I saw you puke your guts out after chugging three bottles of warm beer at prom. I saw you cry when your dog got hit by a car. You really think a few scars are going to scare me off?”
Color creeps up his neck. “It’s more than a few scars, Anna.”
I shrug. “Then I guess I’m into monsters.”
The look he gives me is equal parts shock and something darker, something that makes heat curl low in my belly. I sip my coffee to cover the fact that I’m blushing like a damn teenager. To break the tension, I lean back on the stool. “Remember the summer you tried to teach me to swim?”
His lips twitch. “You mean the summer you almost drowned me because you refused to admit you didn’t know how?”
“Details, details.” I wave a hand in the air. “My point is, you didn’t give up on me, even when I was being a brat. You stuck it out. And I didn’t forget that.”
He studies me like he’s trying to solve a puzzle. “You were always tougher than people gave you credit for.”
“Tell that to my bruises,” I mutter.
His jaw flexes. For a second I think he’s going to get up and punch a wall, but instead he reaches across the counter, covers my hand with his. His palm is warm, rough, calloused, scarred. I should flinch. Instead, I squeeze back.
The air between us shifts. He doesn’t pull away and neither do I.
My heart’s beating way too fast, and I know—God, I know—I should slow down. I’m fresh out of a nightmare, I’m still wearing the bruises to fucking prove it. And he’s still carrying his own. But all I can think about is how safe his hand feels on mine. How it feels like home.
I could have died last night but I survived. I won’t let anyone hurt me again, but I also won’t let that experience keep me from moving forward and living my life. The only thing I can do moving forward is make better choices.
I clear my throat. “So, uh … what’s the plan? Am I supposed to hide out here until Sam gets bored and moves on to his next victim?”
Stefan’s expression hardens. “Not happening. You’re not going back there. Not ever.”
“I wasn’t planning on it,” I shoot back. “But what, then? You going to lock me in your house like some damsel in distress?”
“If that’s what it takes to keep you safe.” The intensity in his voice makes my pulse jump.
I smirk to cover it. “Careful, Grey. You’re starting to sound like a knight in shining whatever.”
He finally smiles—really smiles—and the scar pulls with it. It should look twisted. It should scare me. Instead, it makes my chest ache in the best conceivable way.
“Not much of a knight,” he mutters.
“Good. I always thought knights were overrated.”
We hold each other’s gaze a beat too long. My breath hitches, his eyes drop to my mouth, and for one reckless second, I think he’s going to kiss me. I want him to. God help me, I want him to.
But then he stands abruptly, breaking the moment. “I’ll call the chief, let him know what happened. We’ll figure out next steps after that.”
I nod, trying not to look as disappointed as I feel. Figures. Stefan Grey, the man I’ve secretly wanted since I was fourteen, and now that he’s within arm’s reach, he still thinks he’s not good enough.
I watch him walk away, broad shoulders tense, scar catching the light again. And even though I know this whole situation is a disaster waiting to happen, one truth blazes hotter than all the rest.
I’m done fighting what I feel. Sam almost fucking killed me, and I get a second chance to do this right. I don’t care about his scars. I just care about him.
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