Zander’s guilt was getting the best of him. He slammed his laptop shut. He hadn’t been able to concentrate on work ever since Megan stomped out of the café. Why did he act like such an arse around her? Just because he didn’t have the stones to pursue her didn’t mean he had to treat her like an absolute wanker. But it seemed he couldn’t control his mouth whenever Megan was near. Stupidity just spewed freely in her presence.
He scrubbed his face, unable to shake the lost feeling that had settled over him. If he survived the rest of this trip it would be a miracle.
When Zander returned to their hotel room, he found Megan sitting on the bed, her pant leg rolled up to reveal an angry purple bruise covering her knee. He frowned deeply, his concern for her instantly overruling everything else.
“Megan,” he breathed striding toward her.
“It looks worse than it is,” she replied moving to push her pant leg back down.
“Stop,” Zander ordered, sitting down on the bed, his hand pushing hers away so he could examine the bruise.
“It’s really not that bad.”
“Let me see,” he demanded, pulling her leg into his lap.
Megan
Megan forced herself to swallow her groan of pleasure as Zander massaged the sore muscles around her knee. Her cheeks flushed with shame at her weakness for him. Even after the way he’d treated her, she was still putty in his hands.
He bent his head closer to hers as he inspected her injury. It was a test of her will not to kiss him.
“Are you an expert on knee injuries?” she finally asked as he poked and prodded around her kneecap.
“Ye could say I know a thing or two.”
“From soccer?”
“Football, but yes.”
“You had a knee injury, didn’t you?”
He nodded, continuing his examination.
“Is that the reason you don’t play anymore?”
“One of them.”
“Oh?” she asked, wanting to keep him talking. It was the only thing distracting her from the way his hands were making her feel. “Did you love it?”
“What?”
“Playing soccer?”
“Football. Yes, I did.”
“Do you miss playing?”
“Of course.”
“Why’d you give it up?”
He shrugged. “I wasn’t gonna make pro.”
“Couldn’t you still play for fun?”
He snorted like he thought it was the most ridiculous idea he’d ever heard.
“What? You have heard of fun, haven’t you?”
“Yes, but I wanted to play pro.”
Megan rolled her eyes. “Fine, you have more money than you know what to do with. Why don’t you just buy a team and put yourself on the roster?”
He looked up at her, bewilderment glowing in his sharp, emerald eyes. “Because that’s not the way the world works, Megan.”
“Why not?” she challenged, knowing full well she was being childish, but she was just so happy he was talking to her that she couldn’t resist.
“Because it’s not. It’s all fine and well to go about wishing and dreaming yer way through life, but just because ye say it’s so doesn’t mean it is. Ye can’t just go wishing things into existence.”
“Well you can’t get what you want if you’re too afraid to go after it,” she countered.
Zander shook his head and gently placed her leg back on the bed as he stood up. “Yer knee’s fine.”
“Thanks Dr. Doom, I sorta had that one figured out on my own,” she called after him as he walked into the bathroom and shut the door.
27
Megan
Tension stretched out between them the rest of the day. They’d stopped at the Cliffs of Moher after departing their B&B in Doolin, but Megan found the black sea-scarred cliffs devastatingly lonely. Zander waited in the car while she walked along the worn path high above the crashing waves. She took the shots she needed and packed up her film equipment, bitter that she was letting her fight with Zander get to her despite her best efforts.
Megan had been dreaming of visiting the cliffs for years. She took in their stunning beauty, but she couldn’t help feeling the waves that battered the stony cliffs were hissing their disappointment far below. She plucked one of the stubborn wild daisies that clung to the hostile terrain from its stem. It was of the solid yellow variety, and its narrow petals reminded Megan of sunshine. She inhaled the flower’s fragrance, trying to fill her heart with positivity.
“Stop worrying about what can go wrong and get excited about what can go right,” she whispered to herself. “You’re in Ireland. You’re living one of your dreams.”
She knew she needed to appreciate life as it happened. Sadness passed, but missed opportunities didn’t. She didn’t want to go back to Boston regretting the moments she should have appreciated just because of a beautiful boy.
Megan tucked the tiny yellow flower inside her coat pocket as a reminder to live in the moment. Then with one last look at the breathtaking cliffs, she turned and headed back toward the car.
Zander
Zander was determined to stop the stream of stupidity that flowed from his mouth in Megan’s presence. He’d been keeping his distance when he could and keeping his mouth shut when he couldn’t.
The trouble with so much silence was that it gave him too much time to think and too much time to watch Megan. She was an enigma. Everything that crossed her path on their drive to Killarney National Park seemed to captivate her. From the coastal views, to the black-faced sheep that often blocked their path on the narrow roads.
Zander found himself wishing he could see the world through Megan’s eyes. She had such an appreciation for life and nature. Zander’s mind flashed back to the one and only time he’d taken Sophie camping. She’d retained a look of disgust the entire time they’d hiked, whining about her designer boots getting ruined as they tromped through bushes that she’d claimed were nothing more than urinals for the wildlife.
Zander wasn’t sure what Megan saw when she looked at the lush green landscape of Ireland, but he knew it certainly wasn’t a urinal.
Megan
The endless miles of gorgeous landscape had lifted Megan’s spirits by the time they’d reached the ranger station at Killarney National Park. Megan busied herself gathering her camera gear while Zander headed to the office to fill out their camping forms.
“Ready?” she asked cheerfully when he returned with a permit for their dash.
“Actually do you mind if I respond to a few emails?” Zander asked.
“Sure,” she replied shrugging out of her pack. “I’ll just do some lighting tests.”
Zander gave her what was almost a smile and it tugged at her heart. His phone had been going off all day and he’d refrained from answering it. Megan found herself wondering how much more stress she was adding to his plate by dragging him on this camping trip.
For someone who supposedly lived a charmed life, Zander certainly didn’t seem happy. He was under entirely too much pressure for someone so young. These were supposed to be the carefree years of self-discovery. But Zander had skipped over them for fame and fortune.
When they were finally ready to start their trek, Megan couldn’t help herself from attempting to bridge the gap with Zander.
“Everything okay with work?”
His noncommittal grunt let her know he still wasn’t going to open up.
Megan did her best to let it roll off her shoulders. There was enough beauty in the moss-covered forest to keep her occupied. She set to capturing as much of it as she could with her cameras.
After a long hike Zander finally announced they’d made camp.
Megan looked around the identical landscape in confusion. “Here?”
“Yep.”
The forest was thick with towering trees and damp earth. Fading sunlight filtered in through the canopy of moss-covered limbs and thunder growled in the distance. What was she missing? Thi
s section of the forest looked just like all the others they’d hiked through. It was serene and beautiful, but if there was a campsite hidden somewhere, Megan didn’t see it. Maybe it was camouflaged?
“Here?” she asked again.
Zander gave her a suspicious look as he shrugged his pack off and started unfastening the straps. “Is there a problem with this location?” he asked.
“No, it’s just . . .” she looked around again. “Where’s the cabin?”
“Cabin?” Suddenly Zander burst out laughing. “Did ye think I was toting a tent on a six mile hike for my health?” His laughter echoed through the forest. “Cabin!”
Megan’s cheeks burned. “I thought . . . I mean when Sam and Devon went camping—”
“Let me guess,” Zander interrupted, a wry smile still on his face. “Ye thought ye were gonna be staying in a prissy fairyland tent full of candles and romance just because that’s what Devon did for Sam?”
“No,” she denied.
Zander snorted. “Right. Well in case ye haven’t noticed, love, I’m not Devon.”
“Clearly,” Megan muttered under her breath. Devon knew how to treat a lady. He was chivalrous and thoughtful. Zander hadn’t even offered to help carry Megan’s giant camp pack. It was leaden down with camera gear and her shoulders were screaming when she finally managed to free herself.
How had she been so wrong about Zander? Megan’s fairytale was turning out nothing like, Sam’s. Devon had set up a romantic tent when he took Sam camping. She said it had mattresses, a bathroom and even a skylight so they could gaze at the stars! As Megan watched Zander unroll a small green rectangle of canvas she thought she’d be lucky if they both even fit inside his so-called tent.
“I’m gonna go get a few more shots before we lose the light,” Megan announced wanting to put some distance between her and Zander before she got any more sullen.
“Don’t go too far,” he called after her.
She rolled her eyes and grabbed her small camcorder, tromping off toward the fading sun.
28
Zander
Zander busied himself setting up camp, cursing Devon under his breath. Devon had set the bar impossibly high, but even if he hadn’t, Zander knew he’d still have fallen short. In truth, he had been planning an extravagant camping excursion for Megan. But those plans evaporated when Zander fled to London to escape his feelings.
He hadn’t planned to come on the four-day hike at all, afraid it would only grow his affection for Megan. Little good that did, he thought as he stacked firewood.
Another rumble of thunder caught his attention. It was much closer now. He scanned the forest, worry digging at his gut. He’d lost track of Megan when he was setting up the tent and he hadn’t heard her rustling through the underbrush in quite some time.
She’s fine. He tried to reason with himself, but images of Megan’s less than graceful attempts to cross the Burren filled him with fear. She was ambitious and she didn’t know the terrain very well—a deadly combination.
A crack of lightning lit the darkening forest making up Zander’s mind. He threw their packs in the tent, grabbed a flashlight and shrugged on his rain jacket. He set off into the forest, bellowing her name as the first few drops of rain started to fall.
Megan
By the time Megan realized she was lost, the storm had fully broken. She tried to calm herself, but the darkening sky opened up, pelting her with rain as booms of thunder shook the earth. She’d been trying to find the path she’d taken from camp for the past twenty minutes, but everything looked the same. She was starting to feel desperate now that the rain was cutting her hopes in half. The visibility was terrible and she had to shield her eyes against the storm, making it worse.
Lightning forked across the sky like an angry serpent and Megan shrieked, suddenly feeling like Dorothy in the OZ-like storm. All that was missing were the flying monkeys.
“Get a grip,” she told herself. “This is the real world. Not a movie set.”
Somehow that seemed to make it worse. If it were a movie, Megan could keep pretending the director would yell cut. But this was terrifyingly real and everything inside her was screaming at her to run, but her aching knee warned of the consequences. The terrain she’d traveled was uneven and now slick with rain. Sprinting through it blindly seemed exactly like what the ditzy girl in the horror movie would do.
“I am not that girl,” Megan muttered.
She pressed herself into the trunk of a nearby tree, desperate for the bit of shelter it offered.
“Think!” she hissed. “It’s just a storm. It’ll pass.”
Megan pulled out her phone, her heart sinking when she saw the no signal sign glaring back at her. She hadn’t been able to get service since they left the ranger’s station. At least her phone offered light. Megan clutched it close to her chest and prayed for strength. The best thing she could do was stay in one place and wait for the storm to pass. Worse case scenario, she’d have to wait until dawn to find her way back to camp.
It was cold, but it wasn’t like she’d freeze to death. She was wearing a thick jacket and good boots. Plus, she’d checked the forecast before they’d left Doolin, the temperature was only supposed to be in the low forties tonight. She’d be fine.
But as the thunder roared, her confidence faltered. She shivered and found herself wondering what temperature caused hypothermia to set in.
“Megan!”
Her head snapped up at the sound of her name. Was she hallucinating already? Wasn’t that what hypothermic people did? But then she heard it again.
“Megan!”
Her heart leapt. “Zander! Zander! I’m over here!” She waved her cellphone wildly, its light emanating from her hand like a beacon of hope.
Suddenly she saw him breaking through the darkness. Relief swept through her and she almost collapsed to the ground. His arms were around her in moments and she clung to him already sobbing.
“Are ye hurt?” he asked, his voice raw from yelling.
“No.”
“Thank Christ,” he growled pulling her to his rain-drenched coat. “I thought I’d lost ye.”
Megan held him as tightly as she could with her trembling arms. She’d been holding it together until now, but as she felt the raging swell of Zander’s ragged breathing she realized how bad things could’ve been if he hadn’t found her.
“Can ye walk?” he murmured, brushing the tentacle-like strands of wet hair from her cheeks.
She nodded.
“Come on.”
Zander
Zander’s heart was still beating out of control by the time they reached the tent. He helped Megan inside, tossing their drenched jackets back into the rain to avoid soaking everything in the tent.
“Ye need to get out of yer wet things,” he ordered.
Zander set to work on the propane camp heater, thankful he’d had the good sense to pack it. When he turned back to Megan she was still fumbling with her shirt. Her hands were shaking so bad she couldn’t manage the buttons.
Zander batted her hands out of the way and undressed her. Fear sliced through him as he felt the coldness of her pale skin. He stripped her naked and pulled one of his sweaters from his bag, tugging it over her head. He helped her fit her arms into the sleeves and then took care of his own damp clothes.
He pulled Megan into his arms and ran his hands up and down her sides trying to spread some warmth into her shaking limbs. “It’s alright,” he murmured. “Yer alright.”
Zander didn’t know if his words were meant to soothe him or Megan more, but they weren’t working. She continued to shake in his arms and visions of her last near death experience haunted him.
“Do ye need yer inhaler?” he asked.
She shook her head.
“Are ye sure?”
In answer Megan pulled his hand to her chest, making him feel the steady rise and fall of her breath. Her cold fingers wrapped around his and he pulled her toward him in a rush of emotion.
“Ye scared the shite outta me!”
“I-I’m s-s-sorry.” She shivered the words out, her face pressed against his neck.
“I thought I’d lost ye.” Zander buried his face into Megan’s soaking wet hair, grateful it would hide his tears. Her hands griped his shirt and Zander’s lips sought hers out.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered against his lips.
He kissed away her apology over and over. This had been his fault.
Zander’s guilt overrode every other emotion, overwhelming him with the need to show her just how sorry he was. He wrapped Megan in his arms and pulled her to his bedroll, laying her on the soft down of his sleeping bag. Their kisses deepened turning from distraction to desire as they clawed at each other, desperate to be closer than their clothes would allow.
Zander tore his shirt off, pressing his burning flesh into hers. Her hands roamed over him fanning his need for her. She arched her back and he dragged her sweater over her head. Caging her with his body, Zander groaned in satisfaction as Megan responded to his touch.
Mine, his mind shouted. She’s mine.
Megan
Megan didn’t know when her shivering had changed from quakes of coldness to trembles of desire, but she never wanted it to stop. Zander worshiped her body, his hands caressing and kissing every inch of her as if it were the only way to satisfy his need to know that she was whole. But she wasn’t, and she never would be again. Not after the way he’d made love to her.
There had been a desperate pain in his eyes as he worked her toward the edge of bliss. She’d never seen him look so broken or vulnerable as he did now, holding her against him, like she could slip away if he didn’t hold on tight. It wrecked her. She wanted to find a way to tell him she wasn’t going anywhere—that if he wanted her, she’d stay.
Megan traced light kisses across Zander’s chin and his arms squeezed her tighter still. “I’m right here,” she whispered.
The Maybe Boyfriend: A YA Contemporary Romance Novel (The Boyfriend Series Book 6) Page 16