CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Blair
My arm shakes, a nervous energy coursing through me, as I hold the door open for Zane. I smile through it, pretending I’m okay, and gesture for him to enter. “You can sit wherever you like; make yourself comfortable.”
There’s really only two options—the bed or the leather armchair by the window—and no matter which he chooses, I’m taking the other one. I need to put some distance between us.
Zane takes the bottles from my hand as he walks past me, his expression telling me he sees through my veil, and my shaky arm turns into a full-body shiver. We’ve been this close since reconnecting, but having him in my space—albeit my temporary space—feels much more intimate.
When Cade first told me that Zane was on his way, a sea of emotions raged through me.
First came the anger. “Tell him to fuck off, Cade. He can’t just show up whenever he feels like it.
” Next came the denial. “I don’t want to see him.
He’s the last person I need right now.” Followed by the reasoning and begging.
“Can’t you see this is a bad idea? Please convince him not to come.
” And finally, the resolve. “Maybe seeing him won’t be such a bad thing.
Maybe seeing him one last time will help me come to terms with everything that happened. ”
In the short space of a few minutes, I’d convinced myself that it was going to be that easy to move on from my past. That I’d be able to start fresh again.
Whether I took the job near San Francisco or went back to Jacksonville.
Hell, I could move somewhere completely different.
I’ve always dreamt of an apartment in New York City.
I deserve the chance to be who I want to be, and having closure is the best place to start.
At least that’s what I was telling myself, until the moment Zane stepped into my aura.
It’s like my soul is drawn to his. I may be nervous as hell having him in my space, but I’ve also never felt calmer.
Which might have something to do with the couple of shots I had before he arrived.
But it also might not, because there’s something about him that always made me feel that way.
Even when I was pushing him away and he was telling me he was leaving, I felt a sense of peace that I’d never felt before—a mix between knowing we were making the right decision and that nothing is forever.
Except when people die…which leads us back to now.
Why the hell would I tell Zane we needed to talk about Sierra? Sure, it’s not healthy for him to hold back like he is, refusing to say her name, but that’s none of my goddamn business. And it’s likely to lead to other topics that I’d rather avoid.
After placing the bottles of vodka and Sprite on the nightstand, Zane settles in the armchair while I close the door and slowly walk toward the bed, lining the glasses up next to the drinks.
Not wanting to get too comfortable, I perch on the edge of Jenna’s four-poster guest bed, shifting the lace curtain out of the way.
Zane watches my movements, then studies the room, a frown gracing his lips. “Is this yours?”
I laugh. “No.”
Before it was relegated to the spare room, this had been Jenna’s bed.
She thought it would make her feel luxurious, but quickly discovered it wasn’t for her.
She’s a light sleeper and said that she stuck her foot out of bed once and felt the lace brush against her skin, giving her a heart attack. After that, she was done with it.
I had no problem sleeping here until Cade arrived and told me it was fitting for a princess, knowing how much I despise that descriptor.
“The furniture is all Jenna’s,” I explain, keeping my tone light. “I don’t have my own furniture in LA.”
“What?” Zane frowns again, this time in confusion.
“It doesn’t matter, but our condo came furnished, so I only had to bring my clothes.”
I wait for Zane’s smart-ass response, and he doesn’t disappoint, only I wasn’t expecting the words that come out of his mouth.
“I guess that makes the breakup much easier.” He shrugs, hiding a smile.
It’s not at all funny, and way too soon to be joking about that, but still, for some reason I laugh without restraint, filling the room with my hysteria. “You’re right. My entire life fits in those four suitcases.” I point to the forest-green cases on the floor. “I’m free.”
The thought of that stills me, and my eyes flash to the bottle of vodka, immediately reaching for a glass. “Want a drink?” I ask, filling half the glass with alcohol before topping it off with Sprite.
“Easy there,” Zane warns, but I wave him off.
“It’s needed. I’m not a drinker, but this entire situation has led me to drink.”
“I think that means you’re not coping.”
“You think? Did my hysterical laughter not give that away?”
Zane winces like my pain physically hurt him. “In that case, let me join you. I’m the one that asked for it. But you’re going to have to let me crash on your couch. I don’t drink and drive. For obvious reasons.”
My heart jolts, and I lower my glass before I’ve taken my first sip.
“What am I doing?” My voice cracks as moisture fills the back of my eyes.
“This isn’t me. I don’t even know who I am anymore.
But I know it’s been a long time since I’ve recognized myself, and if I’m being honest, since seeing you again…
it’s like tiny fragments are coming back to me.
Like I’m finding my way out of the darkness, and I don’t know what to do with that. ”
My eyes widen over saying too much, and it’s not lost on me that Zane mentioned feeling the same.
“Blair, I—”
“No. Please don’t respond to that.” I knock back a huge gulp of my vodka and shudder when it burns my throat. Despite knowing I shouldn’t be using alcohol to solve all my problems, it feels good to numb the pain for a while.
Zane gets up and pours himself a glass, his vodka to Sprite ratio similar to mine, as though he’s going down in solidarity. “To baring one’s soul and living through it.” He raises his glass to toast, and I can’t help but giggle again.
“To baring one’s soul and hopefully living through it,” I repeat, a little less convinced.
“So…” Zane trails off as he sits back down, resting his ankle over his knee. “How should we do this?”
“Let’s go back to the reason you’re here.”
“Okay.” He nods, slowly lifting his glass to his lips, drinking the contents in one go. “Wow. That was strong.” He half speaks, half chokes. “I don’t think you should drink that.”
Doing the opposite, I follow his lead, finishing the rest of my glass in a few gulps, smiling defiantly. “Go on,” I say, my throat burning as I rasp.
“Fine.” Zane scratches his head, and my eyes zero in on the tattoos peeking out from his sleeve and the ring adorning his pinky. Without permission, my head fills with memories from our past, and my heart picks up speed.
“There, that’s better.” Zane spins the ring around his finger and smiles. “No one will ever know I got burned. They’ll never know we were together.”
“God, this is always so hard. Maybe we should tell them. It’s not like this is new. We’ve been…” I trail off, not wanting to call ‘us’ something we’re not.
“Exclusively seeing each other,” Zane fills in the blanks.
“And I know. But I’m not ready for our bubble to burst. Both your dad and brother are likely to kill me.
Especially after that.” He points to the almost identical burn on my wrist and his lips thin.
“Let’s not forget how hysterical you got when I saved you just now, thinking we were going to get busted because of our matching scars. ”
“You didn’t save me.” I roll my eyes. “You make me sound like a damsel in distress. You reacted without thinking.”
Zane raises his hands in the air. “I would never call you a damsel. Princess is much more fitting.” He winks, teasing, and I dive across the blanket, tackling him to the ground.
“I am not a princess.”
“I know. You’re more like a queen.”
“Blair?” Zane questions, bringing me back to the present. “Are you okay?”
“Fine.” I wave him off, my heart racing as I pretend I wasn’t thinking about the time I stupidly reached for my bag on the other side of an open fireplace and burned my wrist on the scorching metal. Only to have Zane rush to save me, burning his finger in the process.
“No more alcohol for you.” Zane chuckles while I frown.
“What does that mean?”
“We haven’t even started the conversation and you’re already in your head.”
“Wouldn’t you prefer me to drink then? So you don’t have to speak?”
“Good point. Yes. Drink away. Here.” He gets up and reaches for my glass. “I’ll even pour it for you.”
I roll my eyes, shaking my head as I tell him to sit. “I’m fine. Come on. It’s time to talk. And you’re going first. Why are you here?”
“Fuck.” He groans, this time raking a hand through his already mussed hair. “I was planning on giving you space for a little while, so you could make up your own mind about the job without me influencing your decision…either way.”
“Either way?” I bite back a smile, having a feeling I know what he means.
“Well, knowing you, having me around was more likely to discourage you from wanting to move closer to me. You can be stubborn like that.”
I bite back my smile. “Guess we’ll find out. Since you’re here.”
“Figures.” He laughs and I get lost in the light of his eyes, my mind drifting to the last time I saw him truly smile.
“Anyway,” he continues, once again bringing me back to the present, making me blink a few times as my mind whirls. “I was planning on staying away, until Cade shared the news of your breakup.”
“Wow.” I shake my head, trying to focus. “You’re really just throwing him under the bus these days.”
Zane shrugs. “He told you I was coming, so we’re even.”
“Fair point. So, you heard I was hurting and rushed to my side. Like I’m a dam—”