Page 20 of Wicked Heat

My phone rings, interrupting her and making me jump as it vibrates in my hand. I glance at the screen. “Five-one-two area code.”

Ari scowls. “Where the hell is that?”

“I should answer it,” I say, even though I want to toss the phone—and the horror it’s delivered to me—far, far away.

“No.” She makes a grab for the phone, but I pull back. “Dammit, Bree,” she says as it rings again. “Just let it go to voicemail. Give yourself time to think.”

I almost agree, then I shake my head. “What if it’s them?”

The thought sends a wave of nausea crashing over me.

Ring!

“It isn’t them,” she says. “Probably a telemarketer.”

“You don’t know that.”

She cocks her head and stares me down in that Aria way she has. “Like they’d let you see their number.”

“Duh. They’re calling from a burner phone.”

Another ring.

“I have to,” I whisper, terrified I’ll get punished if it rolls to voicemail.

Her shoulders sag a little. “Put it on speaker,” she orders. “We’re in this together now.”

I blink back tears as I comply, hating that she’s been dragged into this mess, but thankful that she’s got my back.

“Hello?” My mouth is so dry that my voice is little more than a croak.

“Bree? Is that you?”

I stiffen at the familiar voice.

Beside me, Aria mouths who?

Ash, I mouth back, realizing that she wouldn’t know his voice. Though I’ve talked about him ad nauseam, they’ve never met in person. And even though he’s been interviewed by many an on-air reporter, Aria’s unlikely to have caught a broadcast about racing or engines or whatever else Ashton Stone has going on in his burgeoning empire.

“Bree.” His voice has an urgent edge now. “Are you there?”

“I’m here,” I say, my voice mousy and strange. I clear my throat and try again. “What do you want?”

If he notices the ice I’ve managed to edge into my voice, he doesn’t mention it. “I just wanted to check on you.”

Beside me, Aria’s brows rise as she mouths—very clearly—What. The. Actual. Fuck?

“Check on me? What am I, a kid? Are you my daddy?”

“Do you want me to be?” His voice drops in tone, and I immediately regret my words.

“No. Ick.”

He chuckles. “Never understood the appeal of that one, either.”

“As fascinating as it might be to know we have that in common, why are you calling? And why did you call from another number?”

“Another number?”