CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
J EALOUSY STORMED THROU GH Zane at the thought of her on a dance floor with someone else. He made himself walk. Away. Not go caveman and scoop her up and storm out of there with her hanging upside down and screaming over his shoulder. Much as he wanted to.
This possessiveness was intolerable. He instructed his driver to floor it and keep driving. He didn’t want to go back to his penthouse. It was tainted with memories of her. As was the beach house. But he needed to go somewhere. A momentary stop at a liquor store helped...eventually. Hours later, he was where he needed to be. Alone and by the ocean and more than halfway through a bottle of whisky.
Not that he felt any better for it.
He tossed the bottle off the balcony, irritated. He didn’t do this. He never drank alone. Never tried to numb pain with substance abuse. He endured—and he could handle this too, right? This was nothing.
But it wasn’t nothing. It was agony. And it was awful.
This was the thing he couldn’t do. Relationships . Fun, yes. For sure. But that had become a hollow satisfaction, whereas his satisfaction with Skylar was anything but hollow. It was everything.
But she didn’t want a relationship either. She didn’t want to make that effort . Sex was ‘easy’ with him and all she’d wanted was the experience he could offer. The ‘learning’ she’d not had for years for whatever unfathomable reason. And he was a safe choice because he didn’t want relationships either—he was a one-date wonder after all...
Except maybe now he wasn’t.
And the bitter irony was he meant little more than nothing to her. It was only Helberg she held in her heart. For her father. That was why she’d come looking for him. And he’d used it, hadn’t he, to manipulate her into his little game. Because having sex with her the once hadn’t been enough.
Heaven knew he would never have enough.
Groaning, he stumbled downstairs to the cabinet and abandoned his noble attempts to endure pain. He couldn’t do it any more. He needed an anaesthetic and whisky was the only available option.
Hours later, his head was absolutely killing him. So was his heart. Every damn beat reverberated the pain around his body. It sucked .
He stood beneath the shower and flicked it to cold. He leaned against the wall and closed his eyes and endured the freezing temperatures. Regretting everything.
Pure self-inflicted punishment. His relentless thoughts of Skylar only made it worse. They’d tumbled into lust the second they’d had the chance. Both back when they were both teens and again when he’d found her in his garden. Both times they’d barely spoken before the chemistry between them had instantly exploded—out of control and unstoppable.
Her father had broken them apart and torn strips off him.
‘Don’t you dare mess with my daughter!’
‘Don’t you dare...’
The strict old man had repeated that phrase to Skylar over and over that day. And she hadn’t, had she? She’d not dared deviate again from the path her father had set out for her. The narrow path of academic excellence, loyalty to the benefactor that was Helberg.
He got it. He really did. He’d wanted to protect his mother for years, suppressing the anger inside him because he couldn’t be honest with her. He hadn’t been able to tell her he didn’t want to go to that damned school. Hadn’t been able to tell her he was hurting. How badly he hurt for years with that injury—because he’d not wanted to make her feel worse. Because he’d not wanted to cause her more trouble.
As an adult he’d rationalised it all. He’d known his mother had been exhausted, working hard at two jobs—that she’d thought that scholarship would be best for him because she’d believed she couldn’t meet his needs. But she’d not asked him if it were what he wanted. Equally, he’d not said.
And he’d been so alone for so long. Because he’d gone the opposite way to Skylar—he’d gone for hedonism. Using temporary pleasure to wash away the pain but keeping it short, meaningless, keeping himself safe. Anything more took too much effort .
Only it didn’t take any effort with Skylar. So easily he could laugh with her. And he’d told her truths he’d barely been able to face himself. He could tease her and play sexy little games that he loved. Only with her.
Because it was her . He’d had such a crush on her back then. He’d wanted her so much. But he was completely in love with her now. Not that he’d told her. No. He’d turned his back on her. Because she scared the hell out of him.
He wasn’t good enough, right? And hearing that again? Losing her? He couldn’t tolerate that. Which was why he was here now, indulging in a futile attempt to wash away a hangover of epic proportions.
Maybe she had wanted to speak up for him that morning all those years ago, but she’d been too shocked, too scared. Hell, it had only been a moment—they’d hardly spoken. He’d been blown away by the intensity—maybe she had too. And she’d have been terrified of her father.
Zane had turned his back and walked—had to—stung by them both.
But Skylar had been stuck. Had to stay for so much more of the same. And she’d become such a people pleaser. She put everyone else first. Everyone . Her father. Her colleagues. A whole damn company. She’d not stopped to consider what it was she really wanted...she’d just stayed on that damn treadmill that she’d been set on because she thought she had to.
And she’d tried to please him too, hadn’t she? Was it only because he’d plucked at her too-soft heartstrings in Bermuda—telling her about the accident?
No, it had been for so much longer than that. She’d barely known him at the beginning of the bet business because he kept all his cards close. But she’d known enough about him to be aware that he liked games. That he didn’t want a relationship . So she’d, what, made a play that she thought he could tolerate?
But after Bermuda, when he’d ended their deal, she’d asked if they could keep seeing each other anyway. Then at the bar last night she’d suggested he needed people in his life. But she’d not expressly suggested herself. Had that been because she’d been afraid of asking outright—afraid of his rejection? Did she want something more with him?
Hope soared. Because he was the only man she’d ever let touch her. She’d let him in. Actions, not words, right? And it wasn’t solely about ‘education.’
But while she’d played with him, while she’d been confident enough to take something of what she wanted, she’d still put his wishes ahead of her own.
She’d asked him if he was okay. She’d wanted him to say what he really felt...but he hadn’t shared that part of himself with her. He’d not told her his truth. Because he still believed that he wasn’t what she wanted, that he wasn’t best for her. He’d assumed it was all only about Helberg for her. What if he’d been wrong about that?
Had she done exactly what he did? Had she hid her hurt—not admitted her feelings—not said what she really felt, or what she really wanted...?
And by staying silent, Zane hadn’t let her make her own informed choice about their future. He’d made it for her by pushing her away. In all that assumption, he’d pushed her into the same place she’d been with her father.
Silenced.
He’d been selfish. And controlling. And yeah, a complete coward.
He growled, letting the icy water stream over his face.
Enough of that already!