Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 76780 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76780 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
“That guy’s just an asshole,” he grumbles. “I saw the way he was looking at you.”
My lashes are wet, not from tears Atlas evoked, but from the battering of the windy Maine air. Zak mistakes them for pain and responds as my hero, protecting me from all of it: the sexy bastard with watermelon, wine, and cotton candy lips, my inner demons, and the icy blasts coming from Wolffish Bay.
“I’m fine,” I lie. I’m far from fucking fine.
“I’m sorry about earlier.”
His words are whips, making me physically jolt. “Why are you sorry?”
“For, uh, pushing you.”
“Into a blowjob?” I snort out an empty laugh. “No guy ever has to be pushed into one of those.”
He sighs but doesn’t say anything. Probably because he can see through my bullshit, best friend and all. Then, he does as he always does and crosses the line, sprinkling sweet kisses on my throat. He doesn’t have to say that he loves me because I feel it in each soft, warm kiss against my chilled skin.
Guilt once again slays me.
If only I could be someone Zak needs me to be.
I can’t.
I’m fading and fading and fading.
Each day I’m being dragged down into murky depths I have no business treading in. One day, I’ll get sucked under for good. Then, where would that leave Zak? I’ll be damned if I pull him under too.
Gently, I pull away from his body while also making an effort to pull from his heart. He’s not going to let that happen, though. His hands find mine, threading his fingers with my own. Dark brown eyes search my features. I wonder what it is Zak Bell sees when he looks at me.
I’m fucked up and lost.
He stares at me as though he can find me.
“Thanks,” I murmur, dropping my stare to my Vans. I’m reminded of the weight of Atlas’s boot as it pressed over the top of my foot.
Filthy images of his entire body pressing into me cause me to shiver again. Not in a bad way, but it’s awkward as fuck thinking about someone else when the man in front of me can’t seem to ever think of anyone but me.
It’s wrong.
A fucking betrayal.
And yet…
I want to paint.
I want to dig out my brushes and paints and supplies from the box they’ve been in since our move from the B&B to Jax’s place.
Would the paintbrushes even feel right in my hands again?
I can almost see the brush streaking over the canvas, leaving a trail of pinks and reds and blues the color of the deep sea.
Zak brings our conjoined hands up and together toward his mouth. He kisses the tops of my hands, his brown-eyed stare never leaving my face. I revel in the warmth his hot breath offers my wind-abused hands, but then guilt has me plucking them from his grip.
I use Zak.
No matter how much I try to convince myself to stay away, intimately at least, I always end up letting him get his fill. With Zak, for that moment in time, everything isn’t so bleak and painful.
“We should go inside,” I murmur, shivering violently. “I’m sorry you had to come out here.”
His eyebrows dip as his lips purse. Concern is etched in his features, reminding me of his handsome older brother. Zak would make a fine cop one day like Jax.
And Atlas.
I abandon Zak’s penetrative gaze and head back inside. It’s warm and smells insanely good. But, with the solace of the restaurant comes the fact that I’ll have to once again face off with Brie’s brother. His attention cuts through the crowd, locking onto me. As though he’s a lion lying in wait, he stalks me with just his navy blues and almost taunting smile.
I want to paint his mouth.
Just his mouth.
On me.
With my fingers coated in that watermelon color, dragging them across the canvas of my pale white torso. The illicit thought has a flood of embarrassment licking hot across my ears. What is it about this guy that makes me feel so exposed and seen?
I drop into my seat, noting my food has arrived. Without making eye contact, I take a few bites. My stomach has been in knots all day, so it doesn’t take long for me to lose interest in the meal. Atlas, somehow, has inhaled his entire bowl of whatever the hell he got, and I didn’t even notice. All that I notice is the way he tries to dig inside my mind. It’s intrusive.
“Hickey?” His low, throaty growl is barely heard over the hum of voices around us.
I hear, though. Loud and clear. It’s spoken in a slightly condescending tone that grates on me.
“Yeah, so?”
“Your boyfriend give that to you?”
My eyes lift to his narrowed ones. The slight nod of his head toward Zak, who’s laughing at something Brie is babbling about, says everything. He thinks Zak and I are together. Zak thinks Zak and I are together. Seems as though I’m convincing everyone but me.