My heart is pounding too fast and I feel dangerously close to falling apart. “What are you asking?” I force myself to say.
His eyes hold mine captive. “Did you stop fighting? Is there a part of you that wanted to slip away, out there on that street?”
Horror surges through me as I feel my eyes start to fill with tears. They spill down my cheeks in a rush, but not a single one of them has a chance to hit the floor because suddenly Parker’s there, his hands cupping my cheeks, his face a hairsbreadth from mine.
“Shhh,” he breathes. “It’s okay, Zoe. It’s okay.”
“I just…” I cough on a sob. “I was just so tired. It was too much. My parents. That night. Replaying in my head like a horror film, over and over. It rattled me. And so, when he dropped me into the snow… I guess there was a part of me that was just too damn tired to get back up.”
Parker’s big hands hold my cheeks, so I can’t look away. “Zoe.” His voice breaks on the word. “Next time, you call me. You can’t find your feet? I’ll be there to pull you up. You can’t walk? I’ll fucking carry you.” He comes closer, until I can’t see anything except his eyes, and I’m pretty sure they’re the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen in my twenty-four years of life. There’s redemption and forgiveness in his gaze — no judgment or fear.
My broken pieces don’t scare him.
He doesn’t pretend they don’t exist.
He sees me for exactly who I am… and he’s here anyway.
“You think the world is too ugly to exist in anymore? I’ll be here to remind you how fucking beautiful it can be.” His voice is a vow. “I promise, darling. I’ll be here. But I can’t help you if you won’t let me.”
“I’m sorry. I should’ve called. I should’ve…” More tears spill.
He stares at me and I can’t decipher the look in his eyes. “Do you want this, Zoe? This beautiful, messy, crazy life? Because I’ve seen what depression does to people. I’ve watched it tear families limb from limb. My family… When my mom…” His jaw clenches tight as he bites back words he can’t let himself speak. “I have to know you want to be here. That you’re still willing to fight. Everything is fixable… but you have to want to fix it. You have to want to be here.” He hauls in a breath to steady himself. “You have to want it, darling. More than all the shitty days and the heartbreaks and the awful fucking horror of losing people… you have to want to live anyway.”
“I do.” My voice is shaky, but it’s full of truth. “Parker… I want it more than anything.”
He doesn’t respond and, for a moment, I worry he doesn’t believe me. But then, his arms come up and he crushes me against his chest in an embrace that steals my breath.
“Okay, Zoe,” he murmurs against my hair. “It’s going to be okay.”
And as he holds me close, reminding me of all the reasons the world is pretty fucking amazing, I feel the weight of something I’ve been carrying around for twenty years lift off my shoulders.
This beautiful, messy, crazy life with this beautiful, messy, crazy man?
I want it.
16
The Hero
Later that night, I wake to Parker’s head between my legs. It’s late, the middle of the night, but any sense of fatigue or residual anxiety from the day before is driven out by the sensation on his mouth, moving with expertise. I feel needy under his touch, with my hands in his hair and my body totally at his mercy. It doesn’t take long for him to send me barreling toward the brink of pleasure. My toes curl, my hips arch, and I feel myself starting to losing control.
“Come up here,” I pant, trying desperately to form coherent thoughts as my orgasm builds.
He grunts something unintelligible, never pausing in his efforts.
Holy shit.
“I want to see your eyes when I come, honey,” I breathe. “Please, Parker.”
At that, he goes still.
“Fuck,” he mutters, crawling up my body, planting kisses as he moves from my thighs to my stomach to my breasts to the column of my throat. When his face comes level with mine, I see restraint and passion warring in his eyes.
“You can’t say my name like that and expect me to stay in control.” His voice is thick with need.
“I want to finish together,” I tell him honestly. “I want you inside me.”
“This is supposed to be about you.” His voice is hoarse. “I’ll survive.”
“I know you’ll survive. That’s not the point.” I arch up and kiss him. And then, I say something I’ve never said before. Something, if I’m being entirely honest, I never thought I’d find myself saying.
“Make love to me, Parker.”
His eyes darken as his control snaps. A few seconds later, he pushes inside me, holding my gaze the entire time, and I look up at him knowing we can never go back to being strangers. It’s not just sex. Not just passion or pleasure.
It’s Parker.
Somehow in the space of a week, he’s got both hands wrapped firmly around my heart.
I have a feeling he’s not going to let go.
Not ever.
And strangely… I’m okay with that.
* * *