When Zane finally arrives at Lucky’s, my parents don’t even give him a chance to settle, insisting he’d be more comfortable at their home.
If they weren’t right, I’d probably argue, but it’s impossible to miss his tired eyes and crestfallen demeanor. He needs to get away from this place, and fast.
After refusing Cade’s offer of a ride, I join Zane in the back seat of Dad’s car, my throat dry as I fight the anxiety threatening to consume me. A strange energy sizzles between us, but despite the fact that he’s clearly still struggling with guilt, I reach for his hand, holding my breath until he lets me intertwine our fingers.
He squeezes my palm, and warmth spreads through me, slowly clearing the panic that’s been hovering since he said goodbye at the airport.
Only I know there’s more to come.
It doesn’t take long to get home, and when I finally draw my attention away from Zane, I hear Mom and Dad arguing aboutpie as they get out of the car. As if that’s the most important question right now.
We both follow in silence, but the closer we get to the front door, the harder it is for me to breathe.
I can’t let Zane go inside, because the second he does, I’ve lost my chance to talk to him, and I can’t hold back anymore.
“What do you say, Zane? Want some apple—”
“Wait.” I grab Zane’s hand, cutting off my mom as I easily pull him to a stop. Even now that it’s over, he’s not the guy he was last week. Last week he would have tried to tug me right back.
“We’ll be inside in a minute,” I tell my parents, and wave when they both nod in understanding. We haven’t had a moment alone since Ron arrived at Zane’s childhood home, and it’s time to talk.
In contrast to the loud thoughts roaming around in my head, a quiet fills the warm Florida air. But as soon as the front door clicks shut, Zane lets out a sonorous breath—one I’d think was packed with relief if I didn’t know him better. He’s preparing for what’s to come. And I’m glad, because he needs to snap out of this funk.
“What’s going on?” I grab his hand again, pulling him down onto the porch step beside me as I take a seat. “You’ve barely looked at me since the judge dismissed your case.”
“I’ve looked at you. I’ve even smiled.”
I stare at him deadpan and he smiles, albeit a little sadly. “I can’t do this to you again, B. You know this isn’t over. The public hasn’t even caught wind of Landon’s death, and while I’m likely to be cleared—”
“Likely?” My pulse spikes as my heart pounds in my chest.
“Yes.” He nods. “My lawyer—yourdad’slawyer—caught up with me just before I got to Lucky’s. He said they’re waiting for Hayley’s and Reed’s statements, but apparently, they have security footage that confirms my version of events. Short ofHayley saying I threatened Landon, they might have no option but to rule it as a freak accident.”
“That’s good.”
“It is. If it happens. But it doesn’t change the negative attention coming my way. They’ll bring upeverything. The accident. Nathan.You. It’s better if—”
“Oh, no. You’re not playing the martyr again.”
“That’s hardly what this is. And I didn’t do that last time. It was a joint decision.”
“You’re right. But—”
“Wait. Before you say anything, I have to get this off my chest.” He runs his hands down his face and when he’s done, he refuses to look at me again. “Back then, I was broken and you begged me to walk away, so I did. This time, I’m begging you to do the same.” When he glances up at me, his pleading eyes cut me like a knife, but his white knuckles give him away. He doesn’t want this. “Please, Blair. I don’t want to hurt you anymore.”
“No,” I state firmly, leaving no room for argument. “Asking you to leave back then was a mistake. I should never have done that. I knew you’d do anything for me, and I took advantage because I couldn’t face you. The guilt was too strong.”
“I wished you’d told me your reasons back then,” he rasps, his own guilt pouring out through his tone. “I might have fought harder.”
“Then fight for usnow.”
“B—”
“I won’t let you blame yourself formyfeelings anymore. I’m choosing to be here. Choosing to support you. And I’m asking you to do the same. I’m asking you to stay with me. Not physically, here, butwith me. Together. I’m asking you to let me be there for you. And like last time, it’s for selfish reasons. Because I won’t survive losing you again.”
“But what if I lose you?” His eyes bore into mine, his expression panicked.
“What? Why—”
