by Petrova, Em
“Yeah.” He was turned in her direction, but he didn’t see her. “I did. When I saw the first news stories, I ignored them. Hidden headlines in local papers, about a couple of the people we’d gathered intel on. Their deaths. The accidents. The car crash, or boating trip gone wrong, that took them and their entire family.”
She leaned her arm on the table, to support herself. “That doesn’t mean it was your fault.”
“It was. I looked deeper after the third accident. Found hints our information led to the decision. I asked Sabrina about it, and she confirmed. What we’d helped uncover took those people out of the picture.”
Numbness filled Riley. “It’s not like you pulled the trigger.”
“I might as well have.” He finally focused on her again. “Entire families died, because I wanted to be challenged. I found that information. I dug until it happened. That’s why I don’t deserve you. That’s why you need to leave.”
She opened her mouth, but words failed her.
“I don’t want you here, Riley.” His voice took on a hard edge. “I don’t want you in my life. We don’t mean anything. What we did was just sex. Me being selfish. Using you.”
“Bullshit.” She still didn’t know what to do with his confession, but he couldn’t take this from her. “I knew what I was doing. I wanted the sex. I want you.”
“You think that, but it’s not true. Let’s be honest. You don’t know what you want.” The waver in his gaze and the way he turned away as he spoke told her he didn’t believe his own words.
That didn’t stop them from burrowing under her skin and gnawing at her frayed threads of composure. “You don’t really think that.”
A pause dragged between them, before he said, “Of course I do. No one knows you better than me. It doesn’t matter if I think you’re awesome or amazing, you don’t believe it, and your opinion of you is all that matters. Go home. Don’t call me again. Find someone else, to fuck with your life.”
“Zane.”
“Leave.”
She wanted to argue, but the strength wasn’t there. This was too much at once. She couldn’t process anything but how intensely it all hurt. She spun away without another word. It took the last of her restraint, to hold back the torrent of tears as she stormed from the room. At least she didn’t pass Archer anywhere between the apartment and the back door. She couldn’t have handled the most basic human interaction just then.
She made it to her car and collapsed in the front seat before the tears took over. Sobs wracked her body, and she hugged herself tight, trying to keep from shaking apart. She leaned her forehead on the steering wheel, grateful for the cool morning. Every inch of her psyche hurt. Zane’s words echoed in her head, gnawing at every insecurity she had. And then his confession—what was she supposed to do with that? Too many questions assaulted her, for her to focus on anything.
On top of it all, instead of telling him she didn’t hold his actions against him, instead of staying and comforting him like she always promised she’d do, she’d wrapped self-pity around her and left. He carried this massive burden, and she was in her car, crying because he knew the same truth about her that everyone else did.
But she couldn’t go back and apologize. He didn’t want her there, and she didn’t know if she was strong enough to argue.
What was she supposed to do? No experience in her entire life gave her a hint for how to handle something like this.
Chapter Fourteen
Disgust and nausea rolled through Zane. He thought maybe sleeping, putting yesterday behind him, would make it go away. Convince him he was right to push Riley away last night. He was wrong. He told her the truth—finally spilled his big secret—and just like he expected, she left.
You told her to.
She could have argued. Could have stayed.
Do you blame her for going?
No. It was what he wanted. What was best for her. He couldn’t draw her into this sinking pit with him. He was being selfish, leading her on, keeping her around, when he couldn’t give her what she needed long term.
A painfully loud knock jarred him out of his own head. He could ignore it. If it was Archer or Jen, he didn’t want to see them. Or maybe, a distraction would help him ignore his invisible wounds a bit longer.
His thoughts stalled when he yanked open the door and saw Riley. She stared at him, looking incredible despite the dark circles under her eyes and the oversized T-shirt and sweats.
He steeled himself and dragged up the resolve to push her away. It all evaporated the moment he opened his mouth. “Hey. I’m making coffee. Do you want some?”
She shook her head and stepped around him. Would she sit? Stay a while? That seemed like a horrible idea, but it sounded so good.
She lingered in the middle of the room, rubbed her face, and looked at him again. “I don’t know why I’m here; you made yourself clear yesterday. But I still can’t leave this alone.”
“Can you forgive me for what I did? For who I am?” He had no right to ask her that. He couldn’t forgive himself.
She looked drained. Her shoulders drooped when she flopped to sit on the edge of the futon. She moved her lips a few times, before finally saying, “I don’t know.”
“Then we’re done here.”
“You misunderstand.” Exhaustion lined her words. “I can see how much this devours you—what happened overseas. I don’t hold that against you. It’s going to take time for me to process; I’ll be honest. I don’t think any less of you, though. I still adore you.”
“Then what’s the problem?” He shouldn’t ask. He didn’t want to know.
“You don’t trust me. Which is your right, but if we don’t have that, we don’t have anything. It’s my fault, too. This whole friends-with-benefits thing was a bad idea.”
Damn straight. So why did hearing it gnaw deeper into his senses? Plenty of other women made cutoffs look erotic and tasted like cherry lip-gloss. “I still don’t know why you’re here,” he said.
She nodded at the empty space next to her. He sat, and she twisted to face him, legs crossed. A heavy pause spread through the room, before she finally spoke. “High school. Senior year.”
The four words echoed in his thoughts, and he froze. He forced himself to relax. At least if their past was going to torment them, they’d go full-throttle. There were so many old scars there. “You want to rehash what was some really miserable shit for both of us?”
“Homecoming.”
“Don’t do this.” He dropped his gaze. Of course she wanted to talk about that. She was going to push until she reopened more wounds.
“I’d been hinting all summer that I wanted to you ask me.”
The revelation dug deep. Why did she say that now? Why not ten years ago? It didn’t matter. He’d already dealt with that and moved on. So much had happened since, that moment shouldn’t even be a blip on his radar any longer. “To homecoming?”
“Yes.”
“So why didn’t you ask me? An even better question is, why did you say yes to someone else?”
Her frown deepened. “I was an insecure teenage girl, with dreams of you being Prince Charming. I said yes to someone else, because I was hoping it would catch your attention and you would see what you were missing and ask me yourself.”
“You did it to make me jealous?” he asked in disbelief. Such a childish game. So why did it tug at something warm inside?
“Insecure teenage girl, remember?”
A laugh slipped out at the confession. Was he actually starting to relax? This easy banter with her was what soothed him and kept him from slipping into his own regrets. Even when they hit a painful subject, if they could move past it, it comforted him. He didn’t want that. Hadn’t earned the right to move on.
As long as they were confessing, he might as well spill it all. “I’d been trying to work up the courage to ask you for weeks. When someone asked me that morning, I told her no and realized I needed to suck it up and let you know how
I felt. Except you already had a date. I pretended to be happy for you, because that’s what best friends do, and I didn’t want you to think I was a bad sport. I convinced myself I read your hints wrong and we really were just friends. So I went back to her and told her I’d love to go with her if she’d still have me.”
She stared back, silent.
“What are you thinking?”
Her smile looked forced. “Just wondering how things would have been different if we’d hooked up back then.”
“We’d be miserable.” That’s why he brought it up. For as many times as he had the same what-if thought, he already knew the answer.
“Why do you say that?” she asked.
She wasn’t supposed to question him. He had his reasons. “You don’t feel that way about me. Imagine if we’d indulged a temporary crush and broken up. We wouldn’t be here now.” Not that he knew where here was.
Hurt echoed in her eyes. “I guess.”
He hated the distance between them and that it grew with every passing second. He hated even worse that he was the current source of her gloom. “We didn’t belong together then, and we don’t belong together now.” He shouldn’t have let things go this far. It had been stupid and shortsighted. Destroying what they had, because he was thinking with his dick.
“Do you really feel that way?” She clenched her jaw and narrowed her eyes.
“Of course I do.” Part of him whispered it was a lie, but a louder voice screamed nothing had ever been truer. “That’s the way it is.”
“I see.” She stood, not looking at him. “I don’t know what I’m doing here, then.”
“Me neither.” He forced his hands to stay by his side. Swallowed his call to stop her from walking out the door. This was the way it had to be.
Chapter Fifteen
Riley leaned over the butcher-block counter top, calligraphy pen poised over a place card, waiting for Kenzie to spell out another name. They were seated across from each other on the tall stools bordering the breakfast bar.
Creating the place cards for her sister’s wedding reception should be a distraction, but Kenzie wanted to write them all up, in order to seat all the right people by all the other right people. Every time there was a lull while Kenzie searched for the next name, Riley’s thoughts took over again, dragging her into the frustration, and lack of answers that had tormented her since Zane forced her out of his life a few days ago.
Kenzie gave her the next name, and Riley let the letters flow in a black script across the card. She blew on the ink for a few seconds, to make sure it dried, and then handed it over.
“You’re quiet tonight.” Kenzie’s attention never left her list of guest names.
“I guess.” Riley didn’t want to talk about it. Rather, the person she wanted to talk about it with was the source of her angst. She knew he didn’t want to bring their friendship to an end, hated the idea as much as she did, and yet he let his past torment him into thinking he didn’t have a choice. Except, every time she honed in on the thought, doubt told her she read the situation wrong. Again. Like she had with every other guy she knew, but with Zane, the consequences were more serious. It wasn’t as simple as a broken heart. His hurt ran deeper.
“No, Stephen with a ph.” Kenzie placed a hand over Riley’s and pulled the misspelled card away.
“Sorry.” Riley sighed and grabbed another piece of decorated stock to write on. She’d lost count of how many times she screwed up that night. She was positive Kenzie knew the exact number, but her sister was kind enough not to call her on it.
Riley should make another effort to make this right with Zane. Make it clear she was taking the sex off the table, and was there for him. But if he pushed her away another time, how many nos would it take for her to get the hint?
“Okay. Just stop.” Kenzie plucked the pen from her hand and capped it. “Stephen also doesn’t have a Z. Or an A. Though at least you got the N and E right.”
Heat flooded Riley’s cheeks. She hadn’t quite written Zane’s name; it was some sort of bizarre hybrid of jumbled letters. “Sorry.”
“Do you want to talk about it?” Kenzie studied her, concern heavy in her face.
Yes. “I’ll be fine.”
Kenzie shook her head. “Sure.” She slid another card across the counter. “Keep in mind I only picked up so many of these things.”
“I get it. Stephen then?”
“No. I want him sitting somewhere else.” Kenzie paused longer than she should have. “Archer Yates.”
Riley’s hand froze around the pen, gripping it until her knuckles ached, but unable to let go. “You did that on purpose.”
Kenzie stared back, her face an impassive mask. “You think I’d put my entire reception in disarray, to squeeze information out of you that you don’t want to give me? He’s Jen’s plus one. I want them at this table.”
Riley clenched her jaw. She knew Archer and his sister were attending, had even assured Kenzie several times she was fine with it, but it wasn’t as if she was going to argue. Kenzie and Jen were friends, and it wasn’t Riley’s place to ruin her sister’s wedding plans.
“I’m sorry.” Riley forced her hand to remain steady while she inked in his name. “Except this doesn’t put them at the same table, because there’s only one spot left, and you haven’t split up any of your other guests.”
Kenzie flinched. “This is different. They’re not a couple. They should mingle.”
Riley stared back, her mouth twisted in disbelief. “You’re going to break your own rules? Willingly?”
“What?” Kenzie took the card from her but didn’t place it on top of the stack, as she had all the others. “My rules, my exceptions.”
Kenzie didn’t make exceptions. Riley pursed her lips. “Sure.”
“Fine.” Kenzie’s shoulders slumped. “What’s the deal with you and Zane?”
The deal was she’d made the same mistake she had with Archer—slept with a good friend and confused sex with love. Except it wasn’t that simple, and this wasn’t really about her. Not directly. The deal was she felt more helpless than she ever remembered feeling in her life. She dropped her pen. “I’m done.”
“Riley.”
Riley’s gut turned in on itself. “Nothing.” The single word came out harsher than she expected. “There’s no deal with us.”
“You were holding hands half the night at dinner.”
The memory throbbed in Riley’s temple, and an ache settled in her throat. She couldn’t find a response, not that she trusted herself to speak anyway. Silence stretched between them.
“I’ll drop it.” Kenzie turned her attention to the already scripted name cards, straightening and over-straightening them.
“We’re sleeping together.” The words tumbled past Riley’s lips before she could figure out if she wanted to stop them or not. It made her ill to have that out there, but at the same time, it was a relief.
“You should have told me you guys were dating. That’s…” Kenzie trailed off, smile vanishing. “You’re not dating.”
Riley shook her head. “It wasn’t supposed to be this way. We had some fun while he was deployed. You know. Talking and stuff. When he got back, we agreed it might be even more fun to fool around in person. We promised we could stay friends. Except now I’m falling for him, and I know I wasn’t supposed to, and what if I spend the rest of my life unable to tell when I care about someone and when I’m just lonely?”
That wasn’t actually the problem. Not by a long shot. But she didn’t know how to explain the reality to her sister, and Zane’s story wasn’t her secret to share.
Kenzie covered Riley’s hand again, her tone soft. “You’re wrong.”
Riley’s insides threatened to fold in half. She couldn’t hide her hurt. “I didn’t mean to.”
“That’s not what I mean,” Kenzie said quickly. “I mean you’re wrong about not being able to tell the difference.”
“You’re sweet, but I’m not.” Riley cou
ldn’t swallow. Her throat was too dry and raw from hidden tears.
“Why would you say that? You were the one who told me you wanted that shared look. That respect. That admiration. You have all that and more with Zane.”
Riley hated herself for clinging to the words. False hope would set her up for more heartache, but she couldn’t ignore it. “You think?”
“Would I say it if I didn’t believe it?”
Good point. Her sister was diplomatic, but she never outright made things up. “I guess not, but it doesn’t matter, if he doesn’t feel the same.”
“Sorry to interrupt, ladies.” Scott appeared behind Kenzie. He rested his hand at the small of her back. “Caterer is on the phone. Will you talk to him?”
Kenzie rolled her eyes. “You can’t handle it?”
The corner of Scott’s mouth pulled up in a smirk. “I’m about thirty seconds from telling him exactly what I think of his phony French accent and completely inauthentic food.”
“Fine.” Kenzie’s grin defied the irritation in her voice. She looked at Riley. “I’ll be right back, and we’ll figure it out.” She kissed Scott, lingering for a few seconds before pulling away.
Damn it, Riley did want that. And she wanted it with Zane. She didn’t hold his past against him; she only wanted to help him through it. To see him whole again. She dropped her chin into her palm, gaze locked on the countertop. This was such a mess.
The leather on the stool next to her creaked when Scott sat down. “So, this boyfriend of yours…”
Swell. Nine times out of ten, she adored Scott. Right then, she was so very not in the mood for his brand of… him. “He’s not my boyfriend.”
“Sorry.” He sounded anything but. “This guy you know. Zane, right?”
She glared at the countertop. “What about him?”
Scott grabbed a stack of name cards from the middle of the group, flipping through them, but not reordering them. “Kenzie says he was electronic surveillance in the Air Force for six years.”
God, this was so far from a conversation she wanted to have. “So?”