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I forced myself to wait, but the longer that front door remained closed, the faster my resolve started to falter.
Tears of frustration stung the backs of my eyes. All I had to do was turn and walk away. I could slink home to lick my wounds like I had when I was eighteen, and then I’d find a way to move on with my life, leaving Zach behind to become a distant memory. Maybe I’d eventually meet a nice guy who wouldn’t insist on keeping me a secret and who thought I was worth more than just a meaningless hookup. And when Zach and I did cross paths again at some family function, there would no longer be the endless ache in my chest.
I just have to turn and walk away…
My feet felt like cement blocks as I forced myself to turn my back on the cabin, but when it came time to take that first step forward, the air in my lungs fled and it was all I could do to remain standing.
I wanted easy.
I wanted safe.
I really did.
But I wanted Zach more.
I didn’t care if it was for five minutes or five hours or five years, I just wanted him.
I found myself turning around so I was once again facing the cabin, but this time there were no weights holding me in place. I took a step forward, then another and another. I knew the chances that he’d turn me away were high, but that didn’t slow my pace. I didn’t run to his door just like I didn’t falter. It wasn’t anger or frustration or even hope that drove me on.
I was back on that mountain, my body pressed to Zach’s as I waited for the fire to claim us. I was where I needed to be.
I did my best to steel myself for Zach’s reaction, whatever it might be, as I climbed the few steps up onto the porch. I was in the process of fisting my hand so I could knock on the door as soon as I reached it, but the move was wholly unnecessary.
Because the second my feet touched the porch’s landing, the cabin door opened and Zach was there.
Right there.
I expected surprise or shock or anger or… something. But Zach merely stood in the doorway and stared at me. A couple of weeks ago, that stare would have sent me running but I didn’t even slow my steps until I was standing before him, a mere foot or two separating us.
I couldn’t read his expression but everything from the stiffness of his body to the hardness of his jaw was warning me to run… to grab at this last chance to save myself. But I didn’t move. I didn’t even consider it.
Not until his hand reached out to grasp my upper arm. Then I was moving.
Into the darkness of his cabin and then finally into the circle of his arms.
Where I belonged.
Chapter 25
Zach
I didn’t even manage to fully close the door before my mouth crashed down on Lucky’s. It had felt like time had been going backwards as I’d watched Lucky approach the cabin. I’d spied him by pure chance through the window as I’d gone in search of my truck keys. The mere sight of him had stirred up so many emotions that I hadn’t been able to move or even breathe at first.
Then he’d turned his back on the cabin and something inside of me had died. I’d nearly gone after him. But the same thing that had kept me from checking on him after our rescue had caused me to grip the keys in my hand hard enough to leave marks that would likely turn to bruises in the next day or two.
When he’d turned back to face the cabin, my soul had crumbled because I’d known what it would mean.
For him.
For me.
For us.
I was going to end up hurting him again. It was as inevitable as rain falling from the sky. And I was powerless to stop it.
By the time I opened the door, I’d already run through all the scenarios in my head of what I wanted to do to him.
But none of them were what he’d come here for, because I still wasn’t the man he needed me to be. I was a selfish son-of-a-bitch, and I wanted to take what, in that moment, felt like mine.
Lucky whimpered as I consumed him. I tried to remind myself that he was new to kissing, but I had no hope of slowing down. Not when I’d come so close to losing him.
I used my foot to kick the door shut and then I pushed Lucky up against the unforgiving wood. I wasn’t gentle about it. Just like I wasn’t gentle about yanking at the fastenings in his jeans. I expected Lucky to protest the rough treatment, but to my surprise, his hands joined mine and he was the one to actually push his jeans and underwear down.
