Rebel Obsession (The Firehouse Book 4)

  REBEL

  OBSESSION

  ___________________________________

  THE FIREHOUSE #4 NOVELLA

  Copyright

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2021 Anna Joung – All rights Reserved

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the copyright owner. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication / use of the trademarks is not authorized, associated with or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  Table of Contents

  Copyright

  Synopsis

  Music

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Books by Anna Joung

  Connect with Anna Joung

  I had a rule about staying away from men until I met one I couldn’t resist…

  As a struggling artist, I don’t have time for men or relationships.

  I’m focused on making a name for myself.

  Then, I met Rebel.

  His name alone spells trouble.

  Rebel is a too-hot-for-his-own-good firefighter who gets me riled up with his intense stare and dirty mouth.

  He’s also a total manwhore and he has a rule: he doesn’t commit.

  Even more red flags!

  When he offers to be my male model for a project, I should refuse but…

  He’s offering to do it for free.

  How hard can it be to keep my legs closed to a hot playboy who also happens to be a hero?

  Pretty damn hard as it turns out.

  When I get a glimpse of the man beneath the devil may care exterior, I give in to his charm.

  The passion and chemistry between us are combustible.

  But Rebel throws me for a loop when he asks me to do him a favor.

  Be his fake fiance and live with him so he has a better chance of gaining custody of his son.

  Wait...what? There’s no way I’m putting myself in that crazy position.

  But, the deal he strikes does offer me a few advantages...

  ‘’You Are The Reason’’ – Calum Scott

  Summer

  He loves me. That confession threw me for a loop. Does he mean it? I stare at Rebel so hard, trying to somehow see into his soul. I so badly want to ask him if he’s sure about his feelings but that would make me sound desperate, right? I don’t want him thinking I’m desperate for his love... even if I am. I’m struggling to find words to respond to him but I’ve got nothing. The tension crackling between us is too distracting. He isn’t saying anything either. We’re just standing inches apart, staring at each other.

  There’s an array of emotions flitting across his face but he’s so good at being guarded, they quickly disappear before I can read them. What I’d give to be able to read minds right now―just his, because shocked and confused doesn’t begin to describe how I’m feeling. Rebel’s words replay in my head. He loves me and he can’t bear to see me unhappy. Where is all of this coming from?

  All I have to do is tell him I love him too. He’s obviously troubled but for the life of me, I can’t figure out what brought about his strange rant. Why tell me he cares for me and loves me yet he wants me to go? Shaking my head, I gaze at him while I wallow in uncertainty. I really look at him to see if he’s somehow not in his right mind. He just seems agitated―clenching and unclenching his jaw and constantly shoving his fingers through his hair. He said to forgive him for being broken. What does that even mean? Sure, he’s no saint but who is? Nobody is perfect. I’m certainly not. Rebel is selling himself short if he thinks he’s the worst. He really isn’t. I’ve gotten to know him and he’s an amazing man and I know he can be a good father if he gets a chance. If only he could get his son back so he can prove what an incredible parent he is.

  “Rebel, I don’t understand… what are you saying?”

  “Obviously, you’ve been miserable because…” His nostrils flare and he pulls in a deep breath. Fury darkens his features but after a few deep breaths, he visibly relaxed.

  Lifting a brow, my confusion growing by the second, I ask, “What?” Desperately, I search his face. If he wants to get rid of me for some reason, why doesn't he just say it? I take a step back, a sliver of panic seeping in. Before I know it, it’s mounting to the point of robbing me of breath. “Are you…”

  Breaking up with me? I can’t ask him that. We were never together. Not really. According to him, we’ve been a real couple in his mind since I moved in with him. It doesn’t count if it was just in his mind. He never said the words. Hysterical laughter bubbles in my chest. I’m about to be dumped by my freaking fake fiance. How does that even happen? It’s safe to say I’ve reached an all-new high on the pathetic meter. I can never tell anyone about this. I have to be the only person ever to be dumped from a relationship that wasn’t even real. God, I’m about to lose my shit. I have to shove down the wave of nausea rolling in my stomach. If I puke while Rebel is trying to dump me, I’ll keel over and die from embarrassment.

  Clutching my stomach, I tell him, “Rebel just tell me what’s going on. You’re broken? How?” I wait for him to explain, maybe even to apologize and tell me he was just kidding about wanting me to leave.

  Pain shadows his expression which perplexes me even more. “Just forget it, Summer. All I’m saying is, you’re free to go, alright? Spread your wings and fucking fly away,” he sighs, “as far away from me as you can.”

  My mouth opens and closes several times. This must be some sick joke. I mean, he’s the one who begged me to play his fiance and move in with him. So, what’s the problem now? “But―”

  “I’m not saying you have to leave now. Stay as long as you want until you find your own place. I did offer to help you find one and even pay―”

  “I told you before, I don’t want your money,” I snap. “I can find my own damn place.” Anger quickly seeping away, replaced by hurt, I throw my arms up. “I just don't understand what’s going on. Did something happen at dinner with your family that I missed?”

  “You were only physically there, Summer. It was easy to tell your heart wasn’t on it.”

  Hanging my head, I accept that truth. I really wasn’t all mentally present. I have been since finding out about Van and my father. “I know, I’m sorry. Is that why you’re…” Lips pursed and hands on my hips, I grunt. “This might sound stupid because we weren’t really an item but, I don’t know what else to call what’s happening here. Is that why you’re dumping me? Because of dinner with your family?”

  “Fuck. No, Summer.” He takes several steps closer and I’m tempted to step back. Having him so close to touch me is the last thing I want right now. He’ll break down my defenses. He always does. So easily. But, I stay put and allow him to take my hands in his. His touch is warm, electric, everything I need. Why is he doing this?

  His gray eyes are like molten silver as they bore into mine then rove my face. That’s how he always looks at me, with such intensity sometimes I swear I see sparks
of fire in his irises. I love it. No one’s ever looked at me that way before. Hence, my confusion about him wanting me to go.

  “All I’m saying is. You just don’t have to stick around to help me anymore. You’re free.”

  My turbulent emotions reach a boiling point and I yank my hands from his. Through my fury, I feel bereft of his touch. “Why do you keep saying that? You don’t have to set me free. I wasn’t your fucking prisoner!” My words resonate with so much frustration my voice wobbles. I’m on the verge of tears too, which I’m valiantly trying to hold back. Damn if I’ll let Rebel see how much he’s hurting me.

  Seemingly taken aback, he throws his hands up. “Of course you weren’t. It’s just… I don’t want you to feel as if you're obligated to stick around. Forget the whole fake engagement thing. It was a stupid idea.”

  Yes, it was. An insane one that I never should have agreed to. However, it gave me the chance to get closer to him, to really get to know him. And I like the man I saw… I fell in love with him. Now, he wants me gone. Even though he thinks he’s damaged, I love him for it. How can he not know that it’s his flaws that make him perfect? My fear about giving a man too much power over my emotions is in full effect. So, it’s so hard to get the words out. Stubbornly, I fold my arms across my chest and glower at him. “Well, Rebel, if you insist that I go, I’ll gladly get out of your hair.”

  A muscle ticks in his jaw. “Summer, don’t sound like that. Don’t turn this into something it isn’t.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Don’t make this seem like a fight. I’m not fighting with you, I’m not dumping you―”

  I snort. “I guess that isn’t the right word to use considering that we were never...we were nothing. You pretty much told me that the other day.”

  His sharp intake of breath is audible. “And I told you that I lied. There was something between us and you know it.” For the umpteenth time, he threads his fingers through his hair, sending the strands into disarray. His features are shadowed with doubt and his shoulders are slumped. He looks defeated and I hate it.

  It’s crazy how he’s causing me distress and I want to wrap my arms around him to comfort him. I must be stupid. He wouldn’t just hurt me like this, would he? There has to be a reason other than him wanting to “set me free”.

  My racing mind barely processes his last comment. There was something between us? Ouch. “Was?” The room falls painfully quiet. The silence practically wraps around my throat to suffocate me.

  “I mean is.”

  My brows elevate. “So, you feel that there’s something between us and you want me to go?” Unbelievable. “How does that even make sense?”

  “It makes perfect sense. I’m willing to lose you for your own good.”

  “Don’t think you know what’s good for me,” I snarl. He hurt me and I have a sick need to hurt him. Maybe I’m the broken one. “You know what? Whatever you think there still is between us, forget it.” I wheel around and stomp up the stairs.

  “Summer, wait. This isn’t how I saw things going. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this.”

  At the top of the staircase, I send him another seething look over my shoulder. “What, did you want me to thank you for setting me free?”

  “Well...yeah. I thought you’d be relieved. Happy.”

  My jaw slackens. Clearly, he’s lost his mind. “Thank you, Rebel. Very noble of you.”

  “For fuck’s sake.” He groans and takes off after me. “It looks like we need to talk about this.”

  “We really don’t.”

  Climbing the stairs, he explains, “Summer, I swear, I thought that you wanted to leave. You’ve been so sad lately, I thought this was what you wanted.”

  “You’re right about that. I do want to leave.” Now that he’s “set me free, I’m too embarrassed to want to stick around. No way will I give Rebel the impression that I want him to want me to stay. Yanking my bedroom―I mean the guest room that I'll soon vacate―open, I turned to him, ready to slam the door like a belligerent child.

  Rebel’s palm lands on it to keep it open. Our gazes lock. “Summer, please, you’re taking this the wrong way.”

  “I don’t think there was any right way. I mean, what did we expect to come out of a fake engagement?” Scrubbing a hand over my face, I let out a chuckle devoid of humor and laced with pain. “We should have never made this crazy arrangement.”

  “You regret everything?”

  His eyes are practically begging me to say no so I look away. I want to say yes just to hurt him―make him feel a touch of what I’m feeling. But in the end, I still care about his feelings so I put it as gently as I can. Lifting a shoulder, I murmur, “It would have been better for us if we’d avoided the whole thing.” We certainly wouldn’t be here, breaking up...fake breaking up...whatever. I’m so confused.

  Rebel’s shoulders droop a little and I feel horrible. I consider telling him why I’ve been miserable. How hard is it to let him know that I’ve been dealing with intense family drama? I found out that my mother lied to me about my father my entire life, and that I’m Van Bancroft’s freaking long-lost sister. Of course, I’m miserable. Yet, the words remain locked away in my mind. I’m just not ready to share my family mess. Not until I’ve sorted through everything emotionally. Besides, Rebel has his own drama to deal with. Getting his son back needs to be his main focus. So, I decide that I’ll “set him free” too.

  “Rebel,” I sigh, “We don’t need to talk. Not right now.” Not ever because I fully intended to do as he said and get far away from him. “I’m exhausted.”

  His soft sigh rings with reluctance but he backs off. His hand falls away from the door. “Fine. We’ll talk later.”

  “Sure.”

  He backs away, eyes fixed on me as if he wants to say something more. He doesn’t, thankfully. Closing the door, I sag against it with a long, tortured sigh.

  Summer

  Bolting out of bed, I hot-foot it to the bathroom. I barely reach the toilet before my guts project through my mouth. After a few minutes, I drop to the floor and slump against the tub while I wait for nausea to pass. I felt like shit all night. After parting ways with Rebel, I tossed and turned in bed for hours while fighting the sick feeling that wanted to take over. I’m sick with regret and heartache. That has to be what’s happening here. My raging emotions are taking a physical toll.

  When it appears that I have nothing left in my stomach to come up, I brush my teeth and trudge back to bed. It’s early and I can hear Rebel moving around. I decide to stay in bed until he leaves. After a few hours, I’ve calmed down a little. Maybe Rebel and I do need to talk. Last night just wasn’t a good time for me. I’m willing to have a heart-to-heart with him―just not this morning. I need to get to the bottom of why he insists on “setting me free.” I can’t remember saying anything recently that gave him the idea that I don’t want to help him get his son back. When I told him I was all in with the fake engagement, I’d meant it. Despite the emotional rollercoaster that agreeing to help him out took me on, I want him to get Leo back. He deserves to have his kid in his life, and Leo deserves to have a great father like Rebel.

  Laying down, I stare out the window and listen to him get ready for work. He’s working a twenty-four-hour shift today. All the better. I’ll have enough time to get my shit together so we can talk like adults. While I wait for him to leave, I rack my brain for anything I might have said to make him feel as if I want to leave. To my annoyance, I start to feel sick again. What the hell? I’m starting to think lack of sleep and being emotional have nothing to do with my ill-feeling. I know I didn’t eat anything out of the ordinary when I had dinner with Rebel’s family yesterday.

  I’m struck by a realization that has me sitting up again. I haven’t seen my period this month. It hadn’t occurred to me because I’ve been so distracted with the mess that’s my life right now. But, now that I think about it, I never miss a period. It comes like clockwork every month
. It must be the just stress. Holy shit. Surely, I’m not…

  Staring ahead with mounting horror, I shake my head vehemently. “No way.” Things like this happen all the time. Stress can cause changes on a woman’s body. No need to jump to conclusions. Still, worry gnaws at me, making me feel even more nauseous.

  “Summer?”

  I gasp, my head swinging to the door. I can’t talk to him right now, especially with the new revelation of a missed period. A baby? Now? The thought alone is enough to kill me. Rebel will know that something is up if he sees me. I’ve discovered that he’s quite perceptive―annoyingly so, sometimes.

  I look around the room, frantically, actually thinking about dodging under the bed or something. But, that would be ridiculous.

  “Summer, you awake?”

  Panicked, I gawk at the door.

  “Hey, Summer, I was wondering if we could talk before I leave. I’ll be gone until tomorrow and I really hate how we left things last night.”

  He knocks again. When I don’t answer, I see the knob twist. Quickly, I throw myself back on the bed. Back turned, I stay absolutely still. Maybe he’ll think I’m sleeping.

  “Summe…”

  Trying to keep my breathing steady, I squeeze my eyes shut and pray for him to leave. I hear him sigh, then the door closes with a soft click. Releasing my breath, I sit up and shove my hair out of my face. I have to make sure I’m not preggers before Rebel comes home tomorrow.

  Fiddling with the strap of my handbag, I gaze at the rows of boxes. Who knew there were so many pregnancy tests to choose from? Who knew I’d ever be in a drug store, alone, trying to figure out which one to get?

  “This is my life now.”

  Sure, I’m twenty-seven, more than old enough to have a baby. But I don’t want one. Not now. Just months ago, I was focused on my career and staying away from men. Yet, here I stand staring down a bunch of pregnancy tests, and so in love with a man who I think is emotionally unavailable. How the hell did I get here? Oh, yeah, I agreed to enter fake engagement without really thinking of the consequences, that’s how. Gnawing at my lower lip, I peer at the many boxes, wondering which one to get.