Chapter 23
twenty-three
SADIE
Taking a deep breath, I close my laptop and run to check my face in the mirror.
God, I look a mess. My eyes are red from my earlier crying session, my skin is shiny from trying to wash off my smeared makeup, and the man I am trying seriously not to fall for is currently walking up the stairs, his footsteps strong and steady.
Okay. Breathe. It’s fine.
Nobody can hurt me. Not that Darien would hurt me physically, I know that. It’s just that there’s still a tiny piece of me deep inside that is afraid. Of becoming the girl who was so desperate for attention that she let the wrong man treat her like crap for years.
And pretty much paid him for the privilege.
Once I calmed down earlier, I sent an email to VINE – the victim support website that was supposed to let me know Darien had his parole granted. They should be replying in the next twenty-four hours, according to the automated response I got a second after hitting send.
And then I spoke to my lawyer. Who says the no-contact order against Darien still stands. He cannot get anywhere near me. Apparently he shouldn’t have called me either, so my lawyer’s contacting his parole officer to find out what the terms of his release are.
And now, I guess I pretend it never happened. Or that I didn’t panic like I haven’t panicked in years after hearing his voice.
There’s a soft knock on the door and I grimace, because this is so not how I wanted him to see me for the first time after…
After he hunted me.
But I take a deep breath and open the door, because maybe it’s good not to feel so alone anymore.
My heart starts to race as I come face to face with Zach in the doorway. He almost fills the whole space, broad shouldered and tense, his lips pressed together as he takes in the redness of my eyes.
Before I can say a single word, he reaches for me, pulling me into his arms and kicking the door closed behind him in one, easy movement. My face presses to his strong, muscled chest as he holds me so tight I’m not sure I could escape if I wanted to.
And for a long minute, neither of us speaks. He just holds me, stroking my hair, and a single tear runs down my cheek. I’m not crying because of shock this time. It feels almost like relief. And something else. Something that pulls at every cell in my body, making it come to life with his touch.
When I look up at him, he has the strangest expression on his face.
“Wanna tell me who did this to you?” he asks, his voice low and thick.
I shake my head, mostly because I don’t know where to start. How do you explain about a thousand bad decisions that you regret so badly you can taste them. “It’s a long story,” I tell him.
“I’ve got all night,” he says.
“You didn’t need to come check on me. I’m okay.”
“Of course I did,” he says. “We’re friends, aren’t we? Friends take care of friends.”
For some reason that makes my chest ache. He’s being sweet. Too sweet. Thinking he owes me kindness because we had sex and it rocked my world in a way that hasn’t stopped.
Moving his hands up, he cups my face, his palms warm and soft. “Tell me,” he murmurs. “I’ll make them regret that they ever made you sad.”
I close my eyes, because if I keep looking at him I might tell him everything. About Darien. About the years I wasted. About the fear that still grips me, even now, even when I know I’m free.
His thumbs brush over my cheekbones, catching a fresh tear as it slips loose. And when he leans in, pressing the softest kiss to the corner of my eye, my breath catches in my throat. I don’t know how to do this, not when every part of me wants more and every scar tells me to hold back.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” I whisper, because that’s the truth.
“Then what do you want to do?” he asks.
When I open my eyes, he’s looking straight into them, his blue irises so striking it takes my breath away.
And I realize I don’t want to be alone. I don’t want to think about this anymore. What I really want…
Is the thing I can’t have.
“I just…” I shake my head. “I need to get out of here.” I love my apartment, I do. But it’s small and my thoughts are too big. I need to escape them.
He nods, his eyes assessing me like he’s trying to work out if I’m actually okay. “We could go to my place,” he says. “But I have to warn you, the bookshop is full of nosy assholes right now. Most of them related to me. They’re going to have questions if we walk down there.”
My throat tightens. “You don’t have to take care of me. I can leave alone. Go somewhere. I just need to get away from here for a night or two.”
He looks at me like I suggested I swim naked to the mainland.
“Of course I’m taking care of you. You don’t have to be alone.”
He says it like it’s nothing, like scooping me up and taking me somewhere safe is the most natural thing in the world. And maybe for him, it is. But for me, it feels like a revelation.
It feels like aftercare but with clothes on.
My chest tightens, not because I’m afraid this time, but because I’m not sure I understand what this is between us.
Still, I nod again, and he smiles softly.
“Let’s pack an overnight bag for you,” he suggests.
“Get you a few essentials so you don’t have to wear my clothes again. ”
“You want me to stay with you?”
“You said you don’t want to stay here.” He shrugs, like he isn’t being the sweetest man I’ve ever met.
It takes five minutes to pack a bag with my toiletries, some soft pajamas, and a change of clothes for tomorrow. Then he takes the duffel from me, sliding his free arm around my waist.
“Are you ready for this?” he asks. And I know he’s not talking about going to his place. He’s talking about all the people downstairs who’ll watch us walk out together.
“Are you?” I ask him back.
There’s that smile again. It makes my legs weak. “If any of them make a comment, I’ll wipe the grins off their faces,” he promises. “I’ve done it before. I know their weak spots.”
We walk down the stairs in a single file, voices erupting as they see him head back into the bookshop, then hushing when they get a glance of the expression on his face and the blotchy mess on mine.
“I’m afraid you’ll have to go ahead without me,” Zach says to Romy, reaching for my hand, in public, like it’s not some kind of declaration I know he doesn’t want to make.
I take it anyway, feeling his fingers slide into mine, feeling him squeeze me tightly.
“What about the cupcakes?” Bennett asks. “Nobody’s eating them. You want to take one with you?”
Zach fixes him with a smile. “Thanks, but we’ll pass.
” He looks at Hudson, Asher, Parker, and West like he’s challenging them to say something, but they all go quiet.
West takes a sip of his beer, Asher shrugs, like he’s letting something go, and Hudson looks us both over, like we’re confirming something he’d already guessed.
As for Romy, she steps out in front, her eyes catching mine.
“You okay?” she asks, like she thinks Zach is kidnapping me against my will in public.
I nod. “I’m good,” I tell her. “I promise.”
“She has her phone,” Zach tells Romy, like he’s trying to say something more. “And so do I. You can message us any time.”
‘Us.’ There it is. It echoes in my ears like a loud drumbeat.
Because there is no ‘us.’ And yet I like the sound of it too much.
Romy steps back. “Okay.” She smiles at me and I half-smile back. This is so surreal. I don’t think I’ve ever felt more protected in my life.
We step outside, the night air cool on my overheated skin. Zach keeps me tucked close to his body as we walk toward his car, one hand on my waist, the other carrying my bag.
He opens the passenger door and helps me in, then tosses my bag behind the seat before sliding in beside me.
Before he starts the ignition, he turns to look at me, and for a second our gazes connect, neither of us saying a word. Then the engine growls to life, the headlights cutting through the darkness, as he turns to face the windshield.
And when he reaches for my hand again, resting it between us on the console, I let him take it.
Because for tonight at least, I’m starting to feel like there could be an ‘us’.
FITZGERALD FAMILY CHAT
AUTUMN:
Breaking news. I think I’ve figured out who Zach’s mystery woman is.
ASHER:
Breaking news. It’s Sadie.
AUTUMN:
What? How do you know? Dammit, did you look at the security cameras?
HUDSON:
No. He just walked out of the bookshop with his arm around her and headed for his car. I’m guessing they’re not planning to talk about the latest Dan Brown.
AUTUMN:
Okay, this is unfair. I HATE Bro’s Book Club. You get all the best things. WHY can’t women join?
EDEN:
Because last time I looked, we don’t have the correct anatomy. And anyway, who wants to listen to a bunch of guys talking about classics?
AUTUMN:
Me. And now I’m the sad one.
ASHER:
I’ll tell Parker to bring some of Bennett’s cupcakes home with him tonight. That should cheer you up.
EDEN:
Anyway, back to the gossip. Zach and SADIE? Wyatt, did you know about this?
WYATT:
AUTUMN:
Well, I guess I’ll have to drive over to Zach’s apartment and find out for myself what’s going on.
ZACH:
Do not come to my apartment. Do not turn on security cameras. Or I’ll tell everybody about the time you shaved Hudson’s legs when he was asleep and blamed it on Asher.
ASHER:
Wait, that was you?
AUTUMN:
Okay this chat is now closed. I have to put Elijah to bed. Love and light famalam
WYATT:
HUDSON:
This discussion isn’t over. We WILL be revisiting shavegate.
ASHER:
Damn right we will.
ZACH
As soon as we walk into my apartment, I switch every light on, put her bag on the couch, and turn to look at her.
God, she’s beautiful. With her hair pulled into a messy bun, her face shining with tears, and her eyes so stunningly green it takes my breath away. She looks like she should be a piece of art on my wall, not standing in the middle of my living room.
“Take a seat,” I say, nodding at the sofa that faces the oversize TV I barely watch. “I’m going to call the kitchen. What do you want to eat?”