"That's not what I asked, Caroline."
"Well, what do you want me to say, Zach?"
His jaw clenches, and when he speaks again, his voice is molten—low, sinful, hot enough to set my whole body alight. "The truth. That you came because you're finally giving meanother chance. That you came here because you missed me too."
A laugh bursts out, sharp and disbelieving, even though it shakes in my chest. "Don't be ridiculous, Zach. I only came here because your sister begged me to give you a chance to explain..."
I exhale hard, my chest rising and falling too fast. My heart's pounding like it's trying to break free, and God—it's because he won't stop looking at me like that. Like he could melt me down to nothing if I hold his gaze one second longer.
"But..."
"But what?"
"But I..." My throat works, my words tumbling out faster than my brain can catch them. "I changed my mind, okay? Because it doesn't matter anymore. None of it does." My hands flutter uselessly at my sides, trying to make the words stick.
I shake my head, blinking hard. "What happened three years ago... us, whatever we were—I've already forgotten it."
The lie scorches on my tongue, but I force the words out anyway—hoping maybe he'll believe me. MaybeI'llbelieve me.
"Because...you don't matter to me anymore, Zach."
His jaw flexes, eyes darkening, and for a split second his gaze drops—straight to my mouth.
"Is that so?" Zach leans in, close enough that his breath grazes my lips.
My heart lurches into overdrive, hammering so fast it feels like a trapped bird beating itself bloody against my ribcage. My whole body locks up, every nerve buzzing, screaming at me to move, to breathe, todo something.
Oh God, is he about to—?
Panic ricochets through my head.
My pulse trips over itself, and my stomach flips so violently I'm half-convinced I might actually faint.
"If what we had before doesn't matter," he murmurs, voice thick, "and if I don't matter to you anymore—like you claim..."
His hand lifts slowly, deliberate, fingers brushing the base of my throat. My breath stutters as his touch trails up, until he hooks his fingers at the neckline of my shirt. He tugs lightly, just enough to free the chain hiding beneath the fabric.
"...then why do you still wear this?"
The heart locket glints in the dim light as it falls into view, dangling from the chain until it pools in Zach's palm. His fingers close around it, thumb brushing over the metal—teasingly slow, like he's savoring every second of making me squirm.
When I finally dare to meet his gaze, his smirk nearly undoes me.That smirk. That stupid, lethal smirk.
"You're still such a bad liar, Sugarplum," he teases, voice low and sinfully flirty—hot enough to melt me right into the door he's got me pinned against.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CAROLINE
Iyank the chain from his palm and clutch the locket tight, my knuckles whitening around it.
"No, I'm not," I snap, even though my voice comes out way too thin to sound convincing.
My throat bobs with a hard swallow, and I can feel my pulse hammering there, loud and frantic.
Zach's gaze follows the motion, before sliding back to my face. His molten stare pins me, his lips curling in a smirk that looks way too pleased.
"Then why," he drawls, each word smooth and dangerous, "do you still wear it?"
