Mad showed no mercy. “Did he tell you how he got so street smart? How he can pick locks and break and enter with the best of them? His parents were criminals. Both of them dead from that line of work. So you tell me how someone that comes through those circumstances and fucking makes a man of himself is someone that’s not good enough for you!”
“He never told me about his parents being criminals!” Carrie cried. Oh, God. She wanted to hug him. He hadn’t shared much about himself. But had she asked?
“Of course he wouldn’t,” Mad snapped. “You judged him for the good stuff he’s done. How’s he ever supposed to trust you enough to tell you the bad stuff?”
She blinked rapidly, not wanting to break down again, but the tears came anyway.
“That’s enough, Mad,” Hailey said. “I know he’s your blood brother, but Carrie is hurting. She’s our friend. Besides, you shouldn’t be sharing Zach’s personal issues here. That’s for a private conversation.” Hailey took them all in. “What happens at book club, stays at book club. Right, ladies?”
The women murmured their agreement.
An uncomfortable silence fell. Several of her friends gave her sympathetic looks.
“Sorry, Carrie,” Mad muttered.
Carrie shook her head. The apology was unnecessary and not sincere anyway. Everything she thought she knew about Zach shifted once more. From sexy bad boy to anthropology professor to troubled kid. There were so many sides to him and she was drawn to all of them. But was it just empathy she had for him, or was it more?
Hailey piped up. “On that note, who wants chocolate?”
Everyone raised their hand.
“We’ll go back to my place instead of Garner’s,” Hailey said. “Okay, Carrie?”
Carrie nodded numbly.
But when they wrapped up the meeting and headed out, Carrie changed her mind. “You go without me. I’m going to Garner’s to talk to Zach.”
“We’ll go with you,” Hailey said. “We’ve got your back. Every one of us.” She shot Mad a look.
Mad sighed. “I got your back too. But you understand I love Zach. He’s family.”
“Understood,” Carrie said.
“I’m sorry I was harsh,” Mad said. “You know you’re my sister.” She fist-bumped her. “Now go get him.”
~ ~ ~
Zach was on whiskey number three when he heard the feminine murmur of a crowd of women. Josh had already warned him that Carrie would be here tonight with her friends. He’d been counting on it. He had a thing or two to get off his chest. Like how she belonged with him. Like how much she’d love Singapore if she just gave it a chance. Gave him a chance. He deserved that much, didn’t he?
He turned and saw her—her face an expression of pure sympathy. Fuck. Did he look as bad as he felt?
She stopped in front of him and said in a soft voice, “Mad told me about your parents being criminals. I’m so sorry.” She tried to hug him, but he leaned back.
He stared at her, read the pity in her eyes, and scowled. “That wasn’t her story to tell.”
“She was defending you. Telling me how much you’ve overcome to get where you are today.”
All the old shit rang through his head. He’s a bad seed. You can’t trust him. Sneaky, a liar and a thief. He could never get away from it. Now Carrie knew. She’d always see him through that lens.
“Zach—”
“I don’t want your pity,” he snarled.
“I had no idea. Of course I don’t think badly of you for it.”
He narrowed his eyes. “But that’s what you see now. A bad seed that worked out of the pit.”
“But it’s a good thing. You’re amazing.”
He stared down at her, looking for any signs of love, but all he saw was pity. “I’ll never be a good seed, Carrie. Get that through your head. No matter how hard I worked to improve my social status.” He swiped a hand through the air. “Education. PhD. Research. Nothing changes where I came from. What I am on a cellular level. So…” He turned back to the bar and threw back the rest of the whiskey. It burned down to his gut. Good.
“Zach.” Her gentle voice just pissed him off more.
He turned back to her. “Guess you did get a bad boy. Bad, bad, bad. Can’t trust that one. Ironic that you hated all the shiny trappings.” He laughed mirthlessly. “Maybe you always saw through that. Your dad asked about my people. Here’s your answer. Be sure to tell your dad.” He leaned close. “My people come from organized crime. Sophisticated, well-planned illegal operations. Drugs, money, jewels. That’s what took my mom. Jewels and bam! Gone. Execution style.”
Her blue eyes widened.
“Yup.” He leaned back, a little light-headed from too much whiskey and too little food. Not enough whiskey in the world for this kind of pain. Heartache. It just dug at you relentlessly. He turned back to the bar, lifted his empty glass and shook it at Josh. “’Nother one.”
“You’ve had enough.” Josh said, putting a bowl of pretzels in front of him. “Eat.”
He lifted a pretzel and stared at it. Two interlocking loops like a heart. He snapped it in half.
“Zach!” Carrie exclaimed.
He turned, surprised at her volume. “What?”
“Look, I’m not sure what all that status stuff means to you, but to me it’s not important. I don’t think you’re a bad seed at all. You were my white knight just like you said. You kept me safe for what could have been some very risky behavior with any other random guy I picked up.”
He stared at her. She was saying all the right things, but her blue eyes were soft with sympathy, like she wanted to hug him and make him all better. She was seeing him all wrong now and he hated it. He’d worked hard to become more than his past. It always bit him in the ass.
“You can’t fix me,” he growled.
Her voice was soft and soothing. “I was lucky to find you. And I’m so sorry you were ever told you were anything but exactly what you are—a good person. The best.” She rubbed his arm.
He ignored her touch, meant in sympathy he didn’t want or need.
She kept right on talking, her voice louder, more urgent, the words bouncing around his muddled head full of pain and whiskey. “I’ve missed you terribly. I let my ex and his lies get in my head and it messed with what we had. Can we try to start again?”
So much messed up. Didn’t know how to fix it. He tossed some bills on the bar. “You know what? Neither one of us is cut out for this. You’re screwed up by that asshole; I’m just screwed up.” He stood unsteadily. “I’m going home.”
He took one step and the room tilted.
“Josh!” a woman hollered. Not Carrie. He focused with great effort. Hailey with the light red hair. Pretty.
“On it,” Josh said, coming around the bar. He put an arm around Zach. “I’m driving, big guy.” He turned and called, “Mad, take over for me.” Mad was a part-time bartender at the place. Little Mad, the only little sister Zach had ever known.
“Bye, shortstack!” he called.
“Bye, Professor!” Mad returned with real affection. See, people thought he was cool with all his studying.
“We’ll talk later, okay?” Carrie asked, appearing at his side. “Tomorrow.”
He’d talk right now. “I was bad in exactly the way you wanted me to be. You couldn’t get enough. All night, every night, every fuck—” He was cut off when Josh jerked him away. He stumbled and then looked over his shoulder at Carrie, her eyes still filled with sympathy. “Take your sympathy home with you and leave it there!”
“Enough,” Josh snapped, dragging him toward the back door that led to the parking lot.
Good old Josh. He had an identical twin, Jake, and Zach still hadn’t seen his old friend. “I’m fine, Josh, dude, bro. When’s Jake coming back?”
“Zach, dude, bro, you’re not safe behind the wheel. Only reason I’ve been serving you is to keep an eye on you. Now you’re cut off. And Jake’ll be back next weekend.”
�
��I miss Jake. He’s neater than you.”
“You’re the best kind of drunk. Goofy.”
They stepped outside. Zach was not feeling goofy, he was feeling wounded, fucking heartbroken. Doomed to be a lone wolf forever, whether he chose that path or not. He threw his head back and howled at the moon.
Surprisingly, Josh joined in.
He stopped to stare at him. “Are you a lone wolf too?”
Josh grinned. “Yeah, bro, I’m a lone wolf too.” He snagged Zach, one hand on the back of his neck, and walked him to his car, a black Miata convertible.
“Your car’s too small for my legs.”
“You’re an inch taller than me. I think you’ll fit.”
Carrie always thought he was so-o-o tall, but obviously he was only an inch taller than Josh’s six feet. She was just short. Petite.
Josh opened the passenger-side door and gave him a shove to get in. He did, pulling the seat back as far as it would go. Stupid convertible. Josh should get a real man’s car. Like a truck.
Josh got in and started the car.
“She’s judging me,” Zach informed him.
“They do that.” He pulled out of the lot.
He slapped the dashboard. “Pitying me!”
“Nah.”
“Ask her!”
Josh gave him a small slap of brotherly affection on the cheek. “We’ll talk when you’re sober.”
They drove in silence, his own thoughts dark and getting worse. Who was Carrie to judge him just because she came from perfect la-la land of perfect married parents in perfect suburbia somewhere. He didn’t even know where. He knew next to nothing about her except for her taste and her softness and her sounds, like when she came or when she got excited to see him or when she ate something delicious. He sighed at the memory.
Josh walked with him to his front door. Zach pulled out his keys, unlocked the door, and turned to Josh. “Sometimes when she sleeps, she whimpers like a kitten. Like something’s bothering her and then I just stroke her hair, pet her like that—” he petted his own hair “—and she stretches out content and quiet.”
“Awesome. I don’t want to see you drinking again.” Josh poked him in the chest. “Be a man and face whatever’s crawled up your ass.”
“It’s her!”
“Then face her. When you’re sober.”
“Who do you think you are?” he snarled, but Josh didn’t have a good answer. He just reached over, pushed open the door, and shoved him inside.
“Wuss!” Zach yelled through the closed door.
“Sleep it off, bonehead!”
He stumbled to the sofa and lay down because Carrie had ruined the bed for him. Too many memories of his little kitten, his tigress, his pussy. Fucking hell he missed her.
Chapter Fifteen
Carrie headed to her apartment the next night after work, depressed that she hadn’t heard from Zach. She understood him so much better now, where he came from, how hard he’d worked to achieve something admirable, the different sides of him. And they’d been good together. Good was an understatement. She climbed the steps to her second-floor apartment. She’d wanted to try to work something out. Obviously he didn’t want the same thing. Too many goodbyes in her life right now. Goodbye to Zach. Goodbye to her work family, whom she’d grown to love over the last four years. Tomorrow, Saturday, was her last shift at work. Grad school started on Monday.
She stopped short and sucked in a breath to find Zach standing on her doorstep. He studied her in his serious way like she was the most fascinating person he’d ever met. Her heart soared. In that moment she knew there was no getting around what she felt for him, no matter how scary it was to take that risk. No matter how difficult it would be to do the long-distance thing. They’d make it work. She hoped.
“Hi,” she said.
He gazed directly into her eyes. “I’m sober.”
“I know.”
He offered his hand, palm up. “I want to show you something at my place.”
She had a feeling she knew what that was and she’d really like to shower before they hit the sheets. She didn’t even try to fight her natural impulse to join with him again. “Give me twenty minutes to get ready.”
“No.”
“No?” she echoed.
“It’s important.”
She had a quick battle with herself. “I smell like the hospital.” At least she was out of her scrubs in a simple black tank top and matching shorts.
He waited, still offering his palm to her. An open gesture of invitation. Affection. Companionship. Even with everything they’d done together, they’d never held hands. It felt sweetly romantic, like the beginning of a relationship. It was that primal language they spoke that they both instinctively understood.
She placed her hand in his.
He closed his eyes for a moment. “Thank you.”
He entwined his fingers with hers and headed down the stairs. Zach was quiet on their walk, his hand warm and firm in hers.
“Are you going to give me a hint?” she asked.
“No.”
The silence stretched between them.
When they were nearly at his place, she blurted, “I think we need to have a serious talk.”
“We will. After I show you…something.”
Her mind raced. What could it be? She’d already seen his something. “Are you going to show me your professor clothes? Tweed blazer with elbow patches?”
He stopped and glowered down at her, looking all hot and alpha and ready to prove himself. “I’m not a nerdy academic. There are levels and I’m at the top of the cool badass ladder.”
She bit back a smile. “I know that very well.” She took a deep breath, serious now. “I can understand why you let me think you were just a bad-boy traveler kind of guy. I wanted you to be this fantasy and you made it good for me.”
He lifted their joined hands and kissed her fingers. “I was always me underneath that. Truth is, I was more me as a bad boy in the bedroom than I’ve ever been with anyone. I used to always hold back so I wouldn’t come off as too aggressive.”
She cocked her head. “So you’re saying if we hopped into bed right now, everything would be exactly like it was? You’re an alpha-bad-boy professor?” She stifled a laugh, still having trouble reconciling the two.
He narrowed his eyes. “This is serious.”
“I know.” She fought back a hysterical giggle, all the tension piling up in her from the ups and downs of the past week reaching a breaking point. But then she remembered his other lie, which had hurt a lot more. “What was the deal with no long-term? And there’s Muriel! Were you just trying to let me down easy? Were there other lies?”
He spoke in a deep even tone, meeting her gaze directly. “No, there are no more lies. I swear on my life. And you can ask me anything else you want to know about me and I promise to answer honestly after I show you something.”
She parked a hand on her hip. “What about the no long-term thing?”
His eyes took on a determined gleam, which made her suddenly wary.
“Uh, Zach—ah!” He’d tossed her over his shoulder. “Zach!”
He grunted and gave her bottom a pat. “I told you we’d have our serious talk after I show you something.”
Her body flushed with heat. “Ah, carry on.”
He carried her down the sidewalk to his front door and set her on her feet. Then he gazed into her eyes, kissed her fast and hard, and released her. “After you.”
He opened the door and let her in.
Everything looked the same to her. Same black sofa, same TV, same pile of boxes.
He took her hand and walked her down the hallway toward his bedroom.
“I thought we were going to have a serious talk.”
“After your gift,” he said patiently.
Clearly he wasn’t turned on like she was from the primal caveman hold. Something had tripped inside her during her time with Zach, an out-of-control need to have him close wit
h nothing between them, skin on skin. So why was she babbling about a serious talk? It was like she was trying to convince herself to talk when all she wanted to do was strip naked and throw herself at him.
He led her to his bed and pointed at it. “Part one.”
She sucked in a quick breath. “That’s my comforter.” Her sage green comforter was on her side of the bed. It was queen-size, so it didn’t quite fit across the king-size mattress. His side had his usual navy blue blanket. “How did you—”
“Ally helped me. Come on, part two.” He took her hand and led her to the bathroom and opened the medicine cabinet.
Her jaw dropped. Her stuff was in there. Her contact solution and assorted lotions and potions she enjoyed in her small beauty routine. She pressed a hand to her chest, where her heart thundered.
“Shower too,” he said.
She crossed to the shower and peered through the glass shower door, where she found her shampoo, conditioner, and body wash. She slowly turned back to him, her legs wobbly, the roar of her own heartbeat pounding in her ears.
He closed the distance between them. “Do you understand?” he asked gently.
She grabbed his hand in a tight grip. “Are we moving in together? Because that feels long-term. Is this the part where you explain about not doing long-term with me?”
He gazed at her steadily. “I said that because I didn’t want to lead you on, knowing I was leaving the country.” He gestured to the medicine cabinet and shower. “This is symbolic.”
Her brows knit together, waiting for an explanation because symbolism wasn’t going to solve the fact that they would be on opposite sides of the world for a very long time.
He guided her back to the bedroom, where he offered her a seat on his side of the bed. He took a seat next to her and took her hand in both of his. “Carrie.” His voice was gravelly. “We’re two good people, who are compatible sexually, and now I’d like to build on a layer of courtship starting today.”
“A layer of…courtship?”
“Yes.”
“And that means?”
“You’re special to me, Carrie.” He paused, gazing at her with deep affection, maybe even…love. Her heart thumped hard. “I’m putting you first in my life. Your dreams, your career, your happiness comes first. You’re going to grad school. I’ll be here with you.”
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