“What kind of life? Why did you leave school?”
My heart thumps straight into my mouth, and I can taste blood. “Why all the questions?” I spit it out, caustic, and his features harden as if I’ve disappointed him on some level. “Look, you’re not my counselor, my big brother, or my daddy. I’m a big girl, and I don’t see why it would irritate you so much if I’ve decided to spend the rest of my days rotting in that boathouse. It’s my life.”
“Not much of one. And you’re right. I’m not any of those things. I’m a friend. I’m not here to force you into making some decision you don’t want to make. I just hate seeing you sequester yourself from society because of one idiot. Get back out there. You can conquer the world, Zoey. Put a steel cage around your heart and move on.”
A dull laugh dies in my chest before it ever gets started. I’m so incensed I can’t see straight, can’t catch my next breath. “Why don’t you go back to work, Abel? Go back to that shiny high-rise where you keep an office and put a steel cage over your own heart. I’d hate to see you rot in that boathouse. And don’t you lie to me and tell me you don’t wish you could hide out in Loveless for a year. Is that what this is about? When Gavin spilled that magic number at your feet you felt a twinge of jealousy? Wow, she must have torn your beating heart straight out of your throat and made you eat it for breakfast. And believe me, I’m sorry to hear it, but that doesn’t give you the right to tell me to get back out there while you’re sitting on your bruised ego and most definitely your laurels. I haven’t exactly seen you hitting the keyboard. I bet you made that whole book thing up as a cover. It’s alousycover, by the way.”
He tips his head back and rumbles out a short-lived laugh. “Do you feel better?”
“Oddly, yes. But I’m still pissed. You don’t get to judge me while doing the same thing.”
“Duly noted.” He glances down, and his lashes seem to elongate forever. I’ve never understood why nature insists on giving men unbelievably long lashes. It’s both a crime and a waste. “I’ve got a capital idea.”
“If it actually requires capital, I’m out. My bank account is running on fumes. It’s true. I have burned through my meager trust fund. My entire life is going to end in a spectacular crash just like my parents. I know it, and Gavin knows it, too.”
“Hey.” Abel reaches over and picks up my hand, giving my fingers a quick squeeze. It feels good as if he’s pumping life right back into me. “I’m sorry to hear that, but your life isn’t going to end in some spectacular crash. No crash is spectacular, by the way. What you need is a serious infusion of self-confidence. You can’t let what happened to you define you—or shape your destiny. You have a broken heart, Zoey,” His voice softens, and his lids hang low. It’s the exact tone and heavily lidded look most men get before they— “I’ve changed my mind about your proposition.”
Knew it. A twinge of disappointment drips down inside of me, heavy as lead. Abel is just like the rest of them. Men want one thing from me and not much else. There are the Demis of the world, the Kennedys, the Reeses, who are polished to shine forever from the gift of true love. I’m just not one of them. I’m the other woman, the girl you extract things that are far naughtier than a few simple kisses in the night.
I glide my leg between his and run my fingers achingly slow up the soft underbelly of his arm. “You ready to dirty up the nights with yours truly?” I may be disappointed in him, but I’m not about to let the prospect of putting something better than booze inside me.
He gives a slight nod. His eyes bear hard into mine. “I’m ready to do something with you.”
Something about his gaze cuts dangerously close to the quick. I’m so close to bleeding out. Abel has no idea the kind of fire he’s playing with.
That tone he evoked lets me know there is something other than carnal expectations hiding on the outskirts of his mind. “What exactly is it that you plan on doing to me?”
“I’m going to heal you, Zoey.”
“That’s impossible.”
Abel leans in as the lavender sky swallows him in deep hues of purple. “I’m going to let you in on a little secret, Zoey. I believe in the impossible and so should you.” He clears his throat just enough. “Now, you owe me a secret.”
“I have a secret, but you won’t like it.” I’m not about to spill all of my heartache, vomit up my felonies, my lies, my dark hellish past here on this magical night where the stars hang low enough to touch with your finger, so I opt for another truth. “I’m impossible to heal.”
The moon blinks to life from behind a small sheath of dark clouds, glowing like a communion wafer in the sky as if offering me absolution, forgiveness. But deep down, I know neither of those will come.
They can’t.
I’m too far damned for redemption.
