Hard(64)
“Zach, please.”
“What are you so afraid of?”
Everything. “Don’t ask me that.”
“How can I fix it if I don’t know what it is?”
Why did he start now? I stared at him, holding a hard gaze I didn’t recognize. God, he was handsome. Strong. He had a smile that’d charm my pants off and a mischievous side that’d steal my panties. But it wasn’t enough. It’d never be enough. Not when I knew what would happen the instant I let myself feel everything for him.
When I finally let myself love him.
“You’re a SEAL,” I said. “A soldier. Can you fix that? Can you look me in the eyes and tell me you’re going to stay here, with me, without having to leave for six months to put your life in danger?”
“It’s a job, Shay.”
“You asked!” I said. “And that’s my answer. I was abandoned once before, and it felt like shit. I’m won’t put myself through it again.”
“You weren’t abandoned!”
“Then what would you call it?”
Zach grunted. He motioned for me to stay put, an order I immediately ignored. I marched to the library before my stomach flipped again. Zach stormed through the doors, holding an old shoebox. He rattled the contents with a frown.
“You really think you were abandoned?” He thrust the box at my chest. “Here. Take it.”
The box was beat up and yellowed. I knocked the lid off with a cautious finger. Bundles of pictures rested inside—a scrapbook without the book or organization or artistic talent. Each photo was meticulously labeled and dated with a little thought about the moment.
My father’s handwriting.
On pictures of me.
I recognized the curly haired demon in a pink frilly bathing suit playing in a sprinkler. My dad scribbled on the back. Shay—four years old—loving the water! I swallowed. The lump in my throat kept the nausea down. Another picture—little me in a tiny yellow graduation gown. Shay—five years old—kindergarten graduation, next step Law School!
Zach scowled. “I found those in the study. Your father put them in the fireproof cabinet so nothing would happen to them.”
The packages of pictures dwindled the older I became. The most recent one rested on top of the pile. I trembled as I held it, like it weighed heavier than the others. I recognized my high school graduation picture, but the message meant more than the diploma in my hand.
Shay—high school graduation—wish I could tell her she gets more beautiful every day.
“He never abandoned you,” Zach said. “Did you see the room he designed for you here? The only reason I took the damn master bedroom was because I thought you’d like that one. Hell, he even built you a balcony and planted your favorite flowers in the garden beneath it. He wanted you here.”
My voice weakened. “But I didn’t want balconies and flowers. I wanted my father.”
“And he wanted you. The first time I met him? He took me and my mother out for dinner. He wouldn’t stop talking about you, Shay. Not for a minute. He was so proud of you.”
“Why didn’t you tell me before?”
“Would you have believed me? Would it have mattered? Just because he wasn’t around didn’t mean he didn’t love you. It meant you didn’t let him love you.” He swore. “And you’re doing it again with me.”
“I’m not.”
“Bullshit,” he said. “Fuck, Shay. I’m crazy about you. Give me a sign I’m not wasting my time chasing after you.”
Oh no.
No way.
Now? He wanted declarations now? While we screamed at each other? While we hurt each other in my library sanctuary where he took me, loved me, and created a baby with me?
I looked away, head in my hands. He assumed that was my answer. I was just trying to make the room stop spinning.
Sweat broke out over me, everywhere, chilled and terrified.
I didn’t want to lose Zach.
I should have told him. Everything. That I was scared of loving my step-brother. That I wanted him more than anything in my life. That I had fallen for him hard enough to bounce through every floor of the mansion and still not strike bottom.
I should have told him I was terrified of loving someone with every pounding strike of my heart only to lose them to time, distance, or an accident on a battlefield across the world.
But I said the wrong thing instead.
“I just want some time to figure it out,” I whispered. “Please.”
“You know what?” Zach’s voice hardened. “There’s nothing to think about. There’s me, there’s you, and there’s something good between us. If you don’t want to see it? Fine.”