Page 11 of Captured Memories
“You’re not your father, Z,” she murmured, her voice hushed and wide-open, as if they’d returned to sitting on her bed during the lazy summer that first ignited their love. When she’d said those same words after one of his bad spells. He’d become a brooding recluse to the point where Lex had gotten worried, but Liv had pushed, unrelenting until she had coaxed him out. Even now, those words punched him in the gut, twisting the core fear that burned inside him on the best of days.
His throat squeezed tight, and at first, he couldn’t find any words to say, but as he locked eyes with her, they came unbidden anyway. “And you are more than the damage done to you, Livs,” he whispered, scared to betray a tremor in his voice. Liv bit her lip, and those ocean eyes of hers turned glassy.
Her spine stiffened even as her hand squeezed his tightly, like she tried to force herself upright when all she wanted to do was crumble. She’d initiated the touch between them, welcomed it, so Zane braved the waters to wrap his arms around her. Liv’s body tensed at the touch, and he prepared to pull away, not wanting to push her too far too fast—not wanting a repeat of the other night. Except a moment later, she crumpled against his chest like she belonged there, her fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt.
He sucked in a shaky breath as she leaned against him, pressing her cheek to his chest. The scent of citrus wafted around the room, mingling with the raw scent of earth and the sweet honeyed fragrance in her hair. Her presence cast a spell over him, a gentle reprieve from the constant pulse of alcohol’s siren song. Of the need for distraction itching his veins as he sought to banish too many memories he’d rather leave buried.
For the strong as steel woman to cave against him, for her to show vulnerability—Zane didn’t feel like he deserved the honor. Liv had always given her emotions freely with him, but this new hesitance in her stance slayed him. Even though rage still curled in his stomach, she didn’t need to grapple with his anger on the subject while she shouldered her own all by her lonesome. He understood all too well the heavy toll that sort of secret exacted.
“We’re a mess, aren’t we,” she mumbled against his chest, curled against him. Even though the woman turned him on like no one else, with creamy skin and curves he wanted to sink his teeth into, right now, Zane basked in the comfort of touch. Of having her in his arms after all these years. With the way he’d bared his soul and how she had exposed hers, he felt raw—more stripped down than any of his one-nighters from the past.
From the moment he locked eyes on her back in Cupid’s Café, the girl from so long ago wearing the jacket he gave her, he was screwed. Because she filtered through his veins like fresh air in a cavern, something he gasped for after years hidden away.
“How about we try for a real date, where one of us isn’t bolting for the door?” he asked, running his hands through her teal strands and causing the color to shift underneath his fingertips like flowing water. Her cat hopped onto the couch on the opposite side, kneading the cushion and purring until he found a spot. Liv nudged out with her foot to poke Percival the Bold in the side before she glanced up at him.
“You mean all your dates aren’t sobfests like this?” she responded, some of the wryness returning to her voice. “You’ve been missing out, bucko.”
He snorted in response and squeezed her tight to him, that lithe, beautiful body melting against his. “I figure we don’t have to sit here moping any longer—if I know you at all, you’ve got a copy of the Princess Bride somewhere around here?”
Liv glanced at him, those blues sparking to life in a way that made his heart ache, and the radiant smile that followed socked him in the chest. “Of course not. Why would I own the best movie ever made?” Her nose crinkled with her grin, and she settled against him for a moment. “Thanks to the power of Netflix, we don’t even have to move.”
He smiled into her hair, one he wasn’t ready to share—not yet.
Even as the warmth welled in his chest with a hearth glow he’d long missed, a gash opened, and sadness bled into it. No matter how much Liv made him feel, and no matter how much he wanted to pretend he could handle dating the girl of his dreams like an average guy, the inevitable would happen. She would leave. Whether she would grow tired of the day-to-day struggle of his addiction, or if he slipped up and incinerated his life like he’d done once before, the guillotine waited to descend.
Zane’s lips pressed tight as he and Liv sank back into her leather couch. He hugged her tighter. If this was the brief time he got with her, if these moments were one firework away from vanishing, he’d make them count.