She jerked back like I’d slapped her. “That was about me? About the fact I can’t be seen?” She sat there blinking as she came to her own twisted conclusion.
But it wasn’t about her. Not even close.
It was about me.
But it was better this way. This needed to end.
Before it was too late.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Alexis
“What a jerk…what a total, complete jerk.” I muttered the words under my breath, hands still shaking as I yanked at the weeds in my tiny flower garden at the side of my house.
Even as I said the words, my consciousness whispered it wasn’t true.
A sensation fell over me. Gutting me. Crippling me in a way I didn’t quite understand.
Zee had used my shock as a tool to get me out of his car as quickly as he could. So he could get away.
Run. Escape from whatever was chasing him.
Or maybe his intention had been to run straight back to his chains. To submit himself to whatever kept him bound.
Because I’d felt it—the agony that had radiated from him.
A vacuum.
A black hole.
Nothing left in the wake of this tornado that had torn this boy to shreds.
Tears streamed hot down my face, and I wiped them with my forearm, gasping for a breath as I sat back on my haunches. “Shit,” I whispered, sniffling and looking around as if I’d find the answer to what could have caused his sudden shift.
Our lunch had been…magical. All week, I’d missed him like crazy, the emptiness of my bed never feeling quite so vacant since that mesmerizing man had made his mark on me. I could only hope that somehow, in some way, I was making my mark on him.
It wasn’t until I was sitting across from him at lunch that I was struck with a realization. He understood me in a way no other person ever had. He saw my strengths and he didn’t judge me for my weaknesses. Just as I saw his strengths.
So why would he think I would judge him for his weaknesses?
Disappointment and this thick, drenching sorrow swam inside me. I pushed to standing, my footsteps sluggish as I rounded to the back of my house and climbed the three steps that led up to the backdoor. I entered my kitchen, which was dimmed with the late afternoon light, and trudged over to the sink to wash my hands.
I turned the faucet on high, scrubbing the dirt from my nails and trying to convince myself to let him go. To ignore the nagging that thrummed with every beat of my heart. But it was too loud to disregard.
I guess I’d never been one to turn away.
Anxiety fired in my nerves as I paced the hall, whispering toward my feet, reminding myself of why I was there. I just needed to let him know I was there for him. That if he ever needed someone to talk to, I wanted it to be me.
Maybe I wanted more, but that was okay. I’d be honored to be considered his friend.
The heavy metal door swung open, and Zee was there, clinging to both sides of the frame to support himself.
Distressed and tormented.
Pieces of that light brown hair stuck up every which way, as if he’d spent the entire day ripping and yanking at it.
But it was his eyes—emblazoned in bronze and secrets and significance—that shattered my world and sent a rush of affection rushing through my blood.
“Tell me your truth,” I whispered.
On the way over, I’d practiced what I was going to say, but maybe it was my own truth that came sliding out. I wanted him to know he could trust me. That I would keep his secrets safe.
“Alexis.” It was a growl of relief and restraint.
A severity rose in the air, and I gasped when he rushed for me.
His mouth crashed against mine.
Devouring. Destroying. Demanding.
Taking everything I had to offer.
His tongue parted my lips, claiming more. He pulled me inside and slammed the door shut. He pushed my back against it in the same second he pressed his big body against mine.
I wanted to weep with relief, with the feel of him in my arms.
This beautiful, confusing man.
“Lex. Thought I would die after I left you….saying those things to you. How could you be a mistake? How?”
The words were half past mad. Delirious. Just as delirious as the rush of insanity that spun through my mind when he rocked against my center.
“Zachary,” I whispered. “I don’t want to let you go. Don’t let me go.”
He spun us, hiked me up higher as he began to carry me across his loft. My legs were fastened around his waist and my breasts begged at his chest, nipples tight and flesh on fire. My fingers sank into his shoulders, holding on as I kissed him recklessly.
Unable to get close enough.
Shock jutted from my mouth when he suddenly had me against the metal railing of the staircase. My back arched over it and my head dropped back when he wedged a knee between my thighs and ran a path of needy kisses down my throat.
He held me at the waist while the other hand rode the length of my thigh. “This dress,” he moaned as his fingers brushed the lacy material of my underwear aside.
I gasped when he plunged two fingers into me.
Possessively.
No hesitation.
My nails scraped at his chest as I writhed against his fingers that continued their perfect assault. “Zee…oh…God.”
“This body, Alexis…”
He kissed lower, his mouth moving over the neckline of my dress and running to just above my breasts.
He breathed through the thin fabric, pressing a scatter of kisses over the spot that thrummed and sped and raced. “This heart…this fucking miraculous heart. You make me want to be better. You…you make me forget. Make me forget who I am.”
His words were a frantic rumble as he continued to drive his fingers into my sex.
Tingles rushed, my words nothing more than pants as he kissed down through the valley of my breasts. “Maybe you’re just remembering who you are. Who you were always supposed to be.”
I felt as if I was so close to knowing him. This boy whose beauty had been muted.
He groaned, half pained, half demand. “You almost make me feel like him.”
Yanking me away from the railing, he pulled my body tight against his and carried me the rest of the way to the upper loft. To this magical place where twilight touched every corner, whispered its secrets and danced in its shadows.
He’d barely tossed me to the bed when he was over me, shoving my dress up and ripping it free, my fingers just as frantic as I tore his shirt over his head.
I searched him, hands racing across his chest, feeling the wild beat of his conflicted heart, hearing the struggle that whimpered from his spirit.
He angled down and captured my mouth again. He kissed and bit and nipped as he held my face steady in the frame of his hands. Then he edged down, driving me wild with murmurs of kisses at my jaw and ear and neck.
My head rocked back, and a scream of unexpected pleasure ripped from my throat when he bit down on one nipple and drove his fingers into the well of my body.
“So tiny and tight and perfect. Just like every inch of you.”
“Zachary…please.”