Date: 2017-10-17 07:00:00+00:00
Keywords: Romance
Description: *An invitation to Cupid's Café will change your life. After the incident that caused Liv Morozov to drop out of college, years later she's still trying to pick up the pieces of her life. She's managed to carve out a career for herself as a photographer, but when it comes to guys? Her issues send them running for the hills, every damn time. Zane Parata has declared himself off-limits for relationships. Between trying to maintain sobriety and the long hours he works as a chef, no one wants to deal with his brand of damage, and he wouldn't want to burden them in the first place. When Liv shows up
Publisher: Createspace
Rights: Copyright 2017 Katherine McIntyre. All rights reserved.

Captured Memories

Cupid’s Cafe, Book Three

Katherine McIntyre

After Glows Publishing

Captured Memories

© Copyright 2017 Katherine McIntyre

Published by After Glows Publishing

PO Box 224

Middleburg, FL 32050

AfterGlowsPublishing.com

Cover by LKO Designs

Formatting by AG Formatting

All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

Warning: the unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in prison and a fine of $250,000.

AfterGlowsPublishing.com

To the individuals who get up every day to wage war against their demons.

Contents

Acknowledgments

Introduction

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

About the Author

Note from the Publisher

More from Cupid’s Cafe

Acknowledgments

First off, I want to shoutout to the lovely ladies of Cupid's Cafe. Landra Graf, Lori Sizemore, and Catherine Peace are totally inspiring to work with, and I'm so grateful to be a part of the Cupid's Cafe series with top notch authors like them! I also want to give a huge thank you to After Glows Publishing for publishing this series, because it's so very important that all voices are heard in romance. The concept for this series had me smitten from the start--romances where the hero and heroine are dealing with underrepresented issues, from depression to surviving assault? There was no way I wouldn't want to get involved! Many thanks to Sara Lunsford and Michelle Pollina who were wonderful editors and really helped me polish Captured Memories, and a huge thank you to Rob and Nadine for helping look over the manuscript and offering fantastic input! With such a fantastic team of people to help me, I am really proud of the addition to this amazing series, and I'm hoping you all enjoy it too!

Captured Memories

Cupid Café, book 3

An invitation to Cupid’s Café will change your life.

After the incident that caused Liv Morozov to drop out of college, years later she’s still trying to pick up the pieces of her life. She’s managed to carve out a career for herself as a photographer, but when it comes to guys? Her issues send them running for the hills, every damn time.

Zane Parata has declared himself off-limits for relationships. Between trying to maintain sobriety and the long hours he works as a chef, no one wants to deal with his brand of damage, and he wouldn’t want to burden them in the first place.

When Liv shows up at Cupid’s Café, she never expected to find Zane, her brother’s former best friend who had vanished one day and never returned. The sparks that surged when they were both teens rekindle stronger than ever, and all too fast, Liv and Zane entangle in each other’s lives, breaking their own rules. Except with both struggling with the demons from their past, the love that’s begun to grow is one lapse away from shattering the two of them beyond repair.

1

The date started as bland and was speeding right along to abysmal.

Liv sucked on her straw, taking in an extra hefty helping of her black-and-white milkshake, as if the creamy goodness could block out the absolute drivel coming out of this guy’s mouth. He hadn’t seemed like this much of a twat online, but hey, dating profiles lie, lie, lied. The overhead lights of the Denny’s blared down on her, and the rattle and chill of air conditioning blasting through this place made her skin prickle.

“So you take photographs, right?” Kyle asked, his smarmy grin the kind she itched to punch off his face, and the Drakkar Noir he’d slathered on making her stomach churn. “What’s your real job?”

Liv swigged so much milkshake it went straight to her head, but even brain freeze melted in the fury his question inspired. So far, he checked off every item on her ‘Shit that Makes Liv Morozov Rage’ list. Acting like her career wasn’t a legitimate profession tended to top that, along with the territorial way he leaned forward, his hand inching across the laminate table as the minutes wore on.

“Professional Emasculator. I’ve been told that’s why I’ve got such a problem keeping a man,” she drawled, batting her eyelashes innocently while the venom poured from her mouth. This had been a bad idea from the start, spurred on by the promise she made to Tessa to give the dating pool a fair try, again. Common sense-wise, making connections she might be able to use for her quite-real job as a photographer didn’t hurt, and she figured she could slice through any assholes who came her way.

Looked like right off the bat they lined up for the slaughter.

Kyle laughed, because he thought she was joking, and then his eyes flicked to her tits for the umpteenth time this conversation. When it came to full-throttle d-bags like him, the barbs she delivered weren’t sarcastic.

She slurped up the dregs of her milkshake, savoring the last bits of chocolate syrup pooled at the bottom. If she didn’t have anything left in her glass, she had no more reason to stay. His cell phone began to ring, an off-tone that rang with a loud beep, beep, beep, beep through the nearly empty diner at the pre-early bird dinner hour.

She hadn’t heard the sound in a long time.

Nausea flooded her in one sickening sweep. The smell of bacon grease and cleaning fluid faded away, and the stench of Stoli Vanilla arrived in its place. Liv began rubbing her wrist, over and over. Bile rose in her throat while her heart kicked in double time.

The whole place blurred to the back of her focus, vision tunneling to the way her hand circled her wrist, again and again. Words stuck in her throat, and the air evacuated her chest as numbness descended.

“I need to leave.” Some other Liv, not her, spoke to her date in this quiet, detached voice. The robotic tone must have thrown him off, because his brows crinkled in confusion, and he opened his mouth to respond.

Before he could put up an argument, Liv dropped a couple of bills to cover her milkshake, and with a slow and steady stride, she exited Denny’s.

Each step forward felt like slogging through deep water, her boots hitting the floor even though she couldn’t feel the ground beneath her. Numbness reigned, as it traveled up her legs, down her arms, and strangled her heart. Even as she descended the concrete walkway towards her car, her hand kept circling her wrist, the motion beginning to chafe her skin. The air remained crisp from rain the day before, providing a slight edge from the humidity wrapping around her. Before she was even aware, she stood in front of her forest green Subaru.

Once she settled into the driver’s seat and the locks clicked, Liv took her first real breath. The air came out shaky and sharp. Liv leaned forward, pressing her forehead against the steering wheel, the sole thing she could bear focusing on as the breaths cycled through her. Her nerves melted in a shuddering adrenaline crash, and her arms trembled.

Great. First foray into dating in a year and she royally fucked it up. Kyle would be reporting to his bros tomorrow with a big ol’ headline of ‘Crazy Chick Strikes Again’ after the abrupt way she jetted out. She shouldn’t give a damn, but she did. The lack of control got to her, every time. Kyle didn’t know the unstable firework he signed on for when he swiped right. Liv gritted her teeth, turning the ignition on. Behind the wheel, she sank into a measure of control, something she needed in a real way right now.

Her phone began ringing in a symphony of sound as different as possible from the old ringtone that played in the Denny’s. She glanced to see who called. Tessa. Her bestie must have sensed a disturbance in the force. Woman claimed to be psychic, but she was just Grade A at reading body language. Her friend wasn’t a menace in the briefing room for nothing—Tessa earned her rep on Louisville’s police force.

Liv picked up the phone. “Hey, chica. Meet me at my apartment. We’re pulling out the whisky tonight.”

Tessa’s sleek black Charger sat in the back parking lot by the time Liv returned to her apartment. The drive down the freeway had given her time to collect herself and flip off a couple shitty drivers in the process. She’d managed to quell the shaking and the descending nausea from whenever her jerk body decided to relive events of the past she wished would stay dead and buried.

Tessa Riviera strolled up, her smooth caramel skin on full display due to the tank and running shorts she wore. Her glossy black hair had been pulled into a sporty ponytail. Liv unbuckled her seat belt and checked her appearance in the driver’s mirror—she didn’t think she’d started crying or anything weird, but she’d dealt with these involuntary responses before.

She and Tessa couldn’t be more opposite. The late afternoon sun amplified Liv’s innate paleness, what little skin wasn’t covered in ink, and her shoulder-length curls shone in a myriad of shifting teals and blues. Her dedicated hair sorceress had outdone herself with this array of colors that glittered like the ocean.

Her combat boots thudded to the asphalt, a helluva lot sturdier than her shaky legs at this point. Liv stood, rolled her shoulders back, and forced a grin as Tessa stopped in front of her.

“Knock that fake ass grin off your face and prepare to get wasted.” Tessa lifted a brown paper bag that sloshed while they walked in unison to Liv’s apartment.

She stepped to the foyer first, the faint smell of cat piss lingering from last week when Miss Lorcan’s tabby, Pickle, tried to make his grand escape. Liv stopped by the mail slot and fumbled with her key while Tessa waited by the steps. A red envelope stood out amidst a sea of white bills and Sav-A-Lot packs. Her brows furrowed on instinct as Tessa took the lead up the stairs.

Liv’s heart accelerated when she scanned over the letter—no return address, which always pinged her internal alarms.

As they clomped down the echoing hall of her second-floor apartment, she ripped open the letter. Today had already turned into a shit sundae, so why not pop a cherry on top? A thick, cream-colored card lay inside. As she flipped open the invite, Tessa leaned against the door to her apartment with her brow lifted and a hefty helping of side-eye thrown her way.

An admirer looks forward to meeting you.

Come as you are to Cupid’s Café on Bardstown Street tomorrow at noon for the second chance you always hoped for, yet didn’t believe possible.

Sincerely,

Mr. Heart

Liv’s blood turned cold, and she nearly dropped the letter.

Tessa strode over to her and plucked the paper from her hands. “What’s the card say?” she asked, concern sharpening her voice. After scanning the invite, she let out a low whistle. “You don’t think it’s him, do you?”

Cold settled over Liv like a blanket of snow, and despite her hand resting on the handle of her apartment door, she couldn’t urge herself to make the knob turn. Her throat dried at the fear of going face to face with the guy who’d turned her life upside down. Even though she’d sliced off contact since that day, the man continued to reappear in the shadows slinking down her hall, in the eyes of the guys who stared at her for too long on the streets, and in the way those reminders of the past froze her on the spot.

“This is your chance, Liv,” Tessa said, turning the knob for her as she made her way into Liv’s apartment. “For some form of justice.”

Tessa’s movement jarred her own, and the moment she stepped into the embrace of her apartment, greeted by the hiss of the jasmine air freshener and the meow of Percival the Bold, her nerves calmed. Two shake-ups in one day and she was about ready to slump into her couch, burrow under a down comforter, and crash out. Liv sucked in a deep breath, making her way across the hardwood to the pop open the toothpaste-white cabinets in her kitchen.

She turned to face Tessa with two glasses in hand. “What sort of plan do you have in mind?” Anger simmered inside her, a longstanding, complicated, and endless rage that never quite retreated.

Tessa unscrewed a bottle of Tullamore Dew and poured the honey liquid into the glasses, the cedar and sharp scent infusing the air. Her mouth formed a grim line, and her brows tugged together with the fierce expression on her face.

“If this creep is reappearing to torment you, we’ve got to get him behind bars. If you show for this bullshit date, I’ll follow and find a way to book him on harassment charges,” Tessa proclaimed, taking a swig from her glass a moment later.

Her friend’s enthusiasm should have sparked her to life, but the raging tundra inside her permeated too deep at this point for any hope of retribution. She swallowed the whisky, fabricating the warmth that should have coiled in her stomach, one she missed. The invitation glared at her like a threat, and she sneered back.

She lifted her glass in Tessa’s direction, leaning against her kitchen counter. Even though fear gripped her in a vice, her friend was talking some sense and offering a chance to maybe sleep in peace for once. She’d take any shot at normalcy again, even if she had to face her demons.

“Let’s do this.”

2

Either customers were getting stupider as the years wore on, or Zane was losing what little patience he had. With the sheer amount of menu modifications Jessica kept reporting, these idiotic diners should have stayed home and cooked their own damn meals. The temptation to serve them a bowl full of water rose to the forefront, but he quashed the urge down.

“Order up,” he called, sliding to the counter the mush that once constituted a meal before the five thousand substitutions. Last table of the day.

Sweat dripped down his forehead, and he mopped the slick sheen with his ratty-ass undershirt, though it did little to help. He packed away open containers, cleaning up his station with the rehearsed quickness of years of practice. The scents of butter and steak roasting, of freshly-warmed rolls, and asiago cheese permeated the air and his skin at this point. His heart beat with the steady tap-tap-tap of the constant rush in the kitchens, the exact type of distraction he needed. His Friday night shift kicked off the weekend rush, and Sunday couldn’t come soon enough.

The undercurrent prickling through him at all times, the tug he couldn’t completely banish on the best of days, had made an ugly resurgence as of late. The weight in his pocket sometimes became the one thing that kept him from slipping behind the bar here and drinking straight from the bottle.

Paolo, the dishwasher, kept the back door opened a crack, the faint scent of cigarette smoke trickling in with the fresh air. That would have to do for now. Cigarette and a shower, and he’d be feeling shipshape.

Zane tugged the pack of Marlboros from his pocket, turning for the door. Even with his shoulder length hair pulled back, tendrils stuck to his temples, and he grimaced at the feel of the grease clinging to his beard. One hell of a long shower.

A manicured hand rested on his arm.

“Z, why don’t you come back to my place for a drink?” Chloe asked, a smoky glow in her chocolate eyes, her pink lips pursed with sensual promise. Even the husky way she asked left little to the imagination. The girl had started working at La Rouge a couple months ago and eyed him like a choice cut of prime rib every chance she got. Not that she wasn’t a looker — most of the guys in the back, or hell, even the ones lining the barstools as she doled them drinks — would give their left nut to take her for a test drive.

“Sorry, sweetheart.” He flashed his teeth with a smile, pulling a cigarette from his pack as he made his way to the back door. “I don’t shit where I eat—personal practice of mine. I’m not good company anyway.”

The brisk air coated his skin the second he stepped outside, and his shirt glued to his chest. The thump-thump-thump scratched at his veins, an insistence he needed to sate, however necessary. He couldn’t help but eye the way Chloe pouted behind him, charming enough to not throw a tantrum over the rejection.

“Keep telling yourself that, Zane Parata,” she called to him. “Can’t keep rejecting everyone forever. Some day someone’s going to pierce through your rough and tough shell.”

Paolo snorted as Zane passed him, tapping the end of his cigarette to ash onto the asphalt. The guy kept his dishtowel slung over his shoulder. “Yeah, Cuddles,” he called over.

Zane withheld his smirk. Smartass. Instead he lifted his middle finger in response. “Both of you can shove it. I’m comfortable in my Fortress of Solitude.” What both of them didn’t know was that ship had sailed for good. Zane was closed for business in the relationship department, and he didn’t bother trying to re-open.

Before his co-workers could continue to comment, Zane cut down the brick-lined alley and headed in the direction of his apartment. His Zippo snapped with flame, and he lit his cigarette. Nicotine flooded his veins at the first, blissful drag, and the calm circulating through him became a drug all on its own. Folks avoided him on the sidewalk, even the bigger guys taking a step or two away and almost stumbling into the street. The six foot three shadow he cast might have a little to do with it, but the amount of time he spent at the gym didn’t hurt either. Yet another way to burn the cravings that rode him even on the good days.

As small as the blue chip in his pocket was, he could feel the weight slap against his thigh with every stride, the constant reminder of how far he’d come and the effort he exercised to get there.

He ran a hand through his tied-back hair, the sweaty strands gluing together as he heaved a sigh. On a different night, with a different girl, maybe they could’ve tangoed until they were sore, but not a coworker. He didn’t leave any chance for anything but no-strings-attached—not like they’d stay on their own accord after hearing the whole story. The ex-con label tended to scare them away first, and if that didn’t, the rest would for sure.

Ash tumbled from the end of his cigarette as he ripped through it faster and faster with each step closer to his place. Slice of Heaven had turned off their neons at this point, but he’d know the chintzy sign and the brick building with those extra-wide windows from anywhere on Bardstown. The fact that the couple who owned this pizza joint rented to him was a near miracle, but Mr. and Mrs. Papadopolis were some of the sweetest human beings on the planet, and happened to be friends with his sponsor.

Zane swung by the mail slot on the side of the building and flipped open the copper flap. Inside lay a couple old bills and a bright red envelope, the sort that puked Valentine’s Day all over the page. He ripped the letter open and scanned the contents, the dirt and grease on his fingertips marring the creamy invitation. This was the most roundabout proposition he’d gotten, but he had to admit, it piqued his curiosity. And he needed a distraction real bad as of late.

His heartbeat picked up a couple paces as he gripped the invitation tight in one hand, making his way up the creaky aluminum steps to his upstairs apartment.

Tomorrow promised to be interesting.

3

This was a terrible plan.

Liv applied cherry red lipstick in her rearview mirror with the precision of experience, her brand of war paint to give her confidence today. By some miracle, a hangover hadn’t chased her into Tuesday, after the amount of whisky they swilled last night. She had needed all the liquid courage possible following her miserable date with Kyle-the-douche and the way the thought of today sent her into freak-out mode.

Still, she smoothed the surface of her navy blue cigarette pants and took a deep inhale. Her Converse might not be as stylish as a pair of pumps, but if she needed to move fast, she’d be able to bolt at a moment’s notice. She might feel safe sitting behind the wheel of her Subaru, but the idea of walking down Bardstown towards this café made her heart step in double time.

She tugged her black leather jacket from the back seat, more a security blanket than any sort of needed warmth since the temperature would climb with the hours. Liv refused to go anywhere without it even though the jacket had accumulated more patches and holes than was worth keeping. Ten years later, and she had never been able to let him go—not completely. He and this jacket remained in her memories as a reminder of a better time, before college had happened and she turned into this jaded mess.

Liv got out of the car.

This time of day on a Saturday, Bardstown Street exploded into full swing with traffic flowing on both sides, engines revving and tires whirring. Crowds mobbed the sidewalks, mostly folks of the bespectacled hipster variety, with which she tended to blend in well. Even though the sun beat down on her with a fiery insistence, she slipped her leather jacket on and made her way towards Cupid’s Café.

Despite the heat, Liv’s insides plummeted to Arctic temperatures with each step she took. The Greek-style columns framing the entrance begged for attention, though she couldn’t help wondering why she’d never given this place much consideration in the past. She’d walked this street a thousand and one times, so unless this was a new place, she classified herself as super inattentive. When she stepped to the front door, the wide windows cast the interior in sunlight, illuminating the dozen or so couples who lounged inside.

Her phone buzzed with a text from Tessa.

Stationed inside and at the ready.

She’d earned herself a cappuccino and one of the tooth-numbingly sweet creations they displayed inside the case. Liv sucked in another shaky breath and opened the door.

The rich scents of cumin and nutmeg floated her way first, the tartness of lemon and the tang of olive, mingling with the rich, earthy tones of roasted coffee. The low chatter inside remained at a pleasant murmur, and despite the first cursory sweep through the place, apart from Tessa with her mug of tea in the corner, she didn’t spot any nightmares from her past. Her throat tightened. Not like that meant she could rest easy. He might not have arrived yet.

She scanned the small round tables for an empty one, though most had filled up at this point with couples or a single person waiting. Sunlight poured in through the huge windows framed by sheer drapes, the elegant, flimsy fabric a tasteful touch. Despite the way her skin prickled and paranoia charged faster than a horse at the races, calm emanated from the café. Hushed, easygoing conversations flowed through this place, the lush notes of amber and coral cast a warm glow, and the click of the overhead fans blowing gentle breezes created a peaceful ambiance.

Liv glanced to the back of the room where a tall guy nearly dwarfed the small round table, his tattooed and tan forearms a stark contrast to the light surface. His dark, tangled hair was pulled into a ponytail, his beard trimmed to precision, all of which accented a firm jaw and a sensuous mouth hinting a smile. It wasn’t until he lifted his head and looked at her straight on that the devastating force of those intense green eyes rammed into her.

She recognized those eyes—she’d remember them anywhere.

Liv’s throat dried, and her mind dizzied. Not with fear. An ache grew inside her, a yearning so strong she almost lost her balance, and she tugged the jacket tighter. She’d expected to come here and confront the monster who destroyed her life, not the man who’d disappeared so long ago, the one whose jacket and the memories that came with it had kept her strong on some of the worst nights.

Based on the way his eyes widened as he met her gaze, he recognized her too.

Her feet carried her towards him before she even realized she moved, until she stood in front of his table. Never in a thousand years did she think he could have been the one who sent the invitation. She had never believed she’d see him again.

“Livs?” his voice came out hoarse, a delicious rough scrape that made her feel like she was sixteen again. She hadn’t been called the nickname in some time, but it snapped her to the present. Liv put her game face on, even though inside she stormed.

“Zane Parata,” she said, settling into the seat opposite him. “I thought you’d gotten swallowed up in a twister and settled among the indigenous people of Oz.” Her voice came out the practiced calm she perfected despite the way her heart sped, galloping away in her chest.

Those wicked brows of his rose, and a smile stole his face. Holy damn, he was still the same sort of gorgeous that turned heads with that Polynesian glow. Liv tried to ignore the heat threatening to rise to her cheeks—with her traitorously pale skin, she couldn’t hide any flush worth a damn.

“Looks like you never lost your sharp tongue either,” he grinned. His eyes traveled over her body with a hungry roam that surprised her. Zane had been her brother’s best friend, and even though they’d shared too many stolen glances to count, she’d been a hell of a lot more innocent then. The one kiss between them had promised to turn into an inferno, but before their fire had a chance to burn, Zane disappeared. To this day, her brother Lex refused to talk about him. Whatever happened back then damaged the friendship for good.

“What brings you around here?” Liv asked, curiosity burning through her.

Zane ran a hand through his tousled hair, giving her an ample glimpse of his biceps and those taut forearms in motion. “Never left,” he admitted, his gaze skating the tabletop, the shadows lingering there giving her hint enough not to push. “Spent some time in a stylish orange jumpsuit on the flip side of town, and I’ve been working in the kitchen at La Rouge ever since.”

Liv tried to keep her jaw from dropping as explanation of his disappearance added up real fast. She hadn’t the slightest idea what trouble Zane got into back in the day, but based on the way her brother zippered tight on the subject, she could assume the story was a whole lot of bad news bears.

“Even still, I’m surprised we haven’t run into one another in town,” she murmured, her voice lowering. “Does Lex know you’re around?”

Zane clenched his jaw and pressed his palms down on the table like he prepped to jet. Liv opened her mouth before she could help herself, some excuse leaping to the forefront, some reason to get him to stay. It had been so long. Too long. And she couldn’t stand the idea of him vanishing again, even if he’d been here under her nose the entire time.

Tessa’s shadow fell across the table as she stepped in front of them. “Is this man harassing you?” she asked in her firm cop tone. She slipped her badge onto the table, and Zane stiffened, his arms tensing and his eyes flashing.

Fuck. No, that’s the last thing she needed, to bring her cop friend around an ex-con. If he didn’t bolt before, he’d be flying like the breeze now.

“Tessa, it’s okay. It’s not him,” Liv lowered her voice and placed a hand over her friend’s. “Different person from a more distant past.”

“Oh.” She snatched her badge off the table and made an apologetic grimace. “My bad, guys. Have a nice date.” Tessa patted Liv on the shoulder as she high-stepped over to her table with the lone cup of tea.

When Liv glanced across the table, Zane eyed her, curiosity gleaming in those cut-emerald eyes as he settled back into his seat. “So this is a date?” his voice curled around her, stirring a warmth she’d lacked for quite some time.

She flashed a grin. “Guess so. Why don’t we grab some coffee?”

He towered over her at full height when he stood from his seat, the sort of tall to spook most folks. Not her. She knew the heart beating inside the forbidding figure—at least she used to. Together they walked over to the coffee bar, a polished hardwood with mermaids carved into either end. A barista bustled around behind it, tamping grounds, steaming froth, and pouring mugs of piping hot drip coffee for the waiting customers.

“Cappuccino for me and whatever the chocolate contraption in the back is,” Liv said, peering over the display case at what appeared to be a double chocolate cupcake with piped frosting and chocolate chips on top. Right up her alley.

“Americano for me,” Zane said, settling beside her. He slipped a bill on the table, more than enough to cover the both of them. “I’ve got this.”

Liv raised her brow. “Sweet of you, buddy, but I don’t need you to pay for my sugar addiction.” She nudged his cash out of the way, pushing to the forefront as the barista tried to hide her smile. The woman rang them each up quickly, and Zane shook his head, a grin on his face.

“Forgot how stubborn you were,” he murmured while they waited at the polished counter for their coffees. Liv glanced to Tessa’s seat, which now lay empty. Her friend had vacated the premises with utmost haste after the awkward drop-down. Liv’s heart squeezed with warmth that Tessa had taken the time to tag along, that she cared enough to have Liv’s back. “Want to explain the whole scuffle back there? What are you now, witness protection?”

Her forced smile didn’t reach her eyes. “Let’s say the last couple years haven’t been butterflies and sunshine.” His brows furrowed, but before he could continue his line of questioning, the barista slipped her cappuccino onto the counter followed by his coffee. Once the cupcake made an appearance, Liv’s mouth watered on sight. She snagged her essentials, sugar and caffeine, before making her way to the table.

Zane’s gaze heated her—she didn’t miss the way his eyes lingered on her curves and kept zeroing in on her lips. When they’d last seen one another, she’d been a stick and hadn’t grown hips and an ass until she’d left for college, even though her B-cup never caught the memo. Hell, where he’d been leaner, now his motions were coiled and powerful with the hard muscle he built over the years. The second Liv sat, she dunked her face into the mug, the piping hot cappuccino bursting with flavor and scorching her mouth.

“What are you doing with yourself nowadays?” Zane asked, settling back in his seat. That big body of his dominated the chair, his legs sprawled out as one brushed by her. With any other guy, she might be edging away to reclaim her space, but the comfort she felt around him even now warmed her the same as it had ten years ago, like no time had passed. As if they both hadn’t grown up and earned their scars along the way. She didn’t miss the way he played light conversation and how he didn’t offer explanations of why he’d been jailed or why her brother refused to bring up his name.

She lifted her fingers and mimicked snapping a camera. “Managed to get work doing what I love. I’m booked with weddings and the sort, but a lot of unique gigs have been rolling my way.”

His eyes widened, those defined brows animating his face. “No shit, really? You were damn good back in the day, Liv. Can’t imagine what your work is like now.” His gaze paused on her a tad longer, as if he was trapped in the same memory spin cycle she was. He’d been one of her first models back then, a teenage girl’s excuse at getting closer to the guy she was smitten with while avoiding the ire of her big bro. His praise and honest interest got her blood pumping, even more than the mere sight of him did.

Liv distracted herself with the cupcake in front of her before she made an ass out of herself by mooning over the guy who’d captured her heart all those years ago. That summer had forever imprinted on her. From the stolen bottle of Jack Daniels they’d swapped as they stared up at the stars, watching the tremulous glow of fireflies float through the air, to the way he’d listened and offered a shoulder to cry on when her first boyfriend dumped her. Even the weight of his jacket settled over her, the one he’d left in her car after the one kiss she’d never forget. A mere day later, he’d vanished out of her life for good.

Chances were, she’d built him into a fantasy, nothing close to the reality of the guy who sat before her. And besides, ex-con or no, she didn’t think any guy could handle the bundle of problems she carried with her. Hell, she could barely tolerate herself on a good day.

She sank her teeth into the rich, gooey chocolate, savoring the sweetness as she demolished the baked good with the finesse of a wolf. Crumbs littered the table in front of her, and she licked her lips for the remnants of the frosting. Zane lifted his cup of coffee to his mouth in a pitiful attempt to hide his smile.

“I think you missed some,” he said with a wink, pointing at the mound of crumbs sprinkled across the plate.

Liv gave him the middle finger. “Thanks, asshole. I couldn’t tell.” She wiped her forearm over her mouth to make sure she’d gotten the remnants, the epitome of ladylike grace.

“Still missed some.” He leaned forward and swiped her cheek with his thumb, bringing it up to those lips and sucking. Between the electricity of his touch and the sensual gleam in his eyes, she clenched her thighs together as a heady dose of desire made an appearance.

Even though he leaned back in his seat as relaxed as could be, she didn’t miss the way he started tapping his fingers against the table or how the jitters alternated to his boot tapping the ground.

“You can chill,” she said, tilting her head towards his tap-dancing fingers. “Tessa’s not going to pop in and haul you away.”

He snatched his hand off the table, his green eyes darkening for a moment. “Not worried about your cop friend, Livs. My nerves are just shit, that’s all.” His hand slipped to his pocket, but he wasn’t forthcoming on any further story. Fantastic pair they made, dodging around anything substantial—both of them had managed to skate around details on the decade missing from each other’s lives with razor blade precision.

“So now that I know you’re in the area, are you going to stick around? Or is this a one-sight deal with a disappearing act to follow?” she asked, going straight for the hardball. She wouldn’t push on the past, but the part of her yearning for the connection they shared couldn’t let this go.

“Anyone ever tell you that you’re persistent?” he asked, a half-smile stealing his lips. Those forest eyes hadn’t left her once, the heat emanating from them sparking her body to life in a way she believed had died for good.

She pursed her lips and lifted a brow. “Yeah, you. Like a thousand and one times.” He let loose a laugh, a rich sound she had missed a great deal. Despite the years between them and all the secrets they kept, their easy communication hadn’t vanished. He swigged down more of his coffee, the porcelain clinking as he set it on the table. “Still didn’t answer my question—do I get a follow-up date?” The words tumbled out of her mouth before she could help herself, needing to know if the powerful emotions brewing in the air were hers alone or if he still gave a damn.

He met her gaze head on, and Liv’s throat dried at the intensity there, the turbulence behind those eyes that had once been so easy for her to read. Whatever he prepared to say, she had the feeling she wouldn’t like it.

“You’re a stunner of a woman, and you’ve got one hell of a successful future ahead of you,” he started, spreading his palms flat on the table.

Liv’s heart squeezed tight, knowing where this was headed. “This is where you tell me I can’t handle your damage, right?” she said, her voice edged with more bitterness than she intended. The anger spread through her like a wildfire, coming easily to her at this point. “I’m not sixteen anymore, Z.”

His eyes darkened, and he stood from the seat. “Yeah, but I wouldn’t wish my damage on my worst enemy, and I’m sure as hell not unloading it on someone I admire as much as you, babe.” As he started to walk forward, his hand rested on her shoulder. The warmth of the brief touch soaked through her, and the remorse and pristine sadness on his face hit her like a slap. “The jacket looks good on you.”

With that, Zane Parata strode across the café and out the door, disappearing from her life once more.

4

Three days had passed since Zane shut down the one woman he’d ever imagined a future with.

He leaned outside of La Rouge and lit his cigarette, the scrape of the brick wall feeling glorious against his sweaty back. Shame had flooded him something fierce the moment that pair of long legs strolled in through the door of Cupid’s Café. At sixteen she’d been a pretty girl, but in the interim, hell on earth, she’d bloomed into the sort of woman men sold their souls to bed. With those hips made for gripping and the sexy curve of her smile, he’d been struggling with his libido from the second she stood in front of him.

He let out a stream of smoke with his exhale. They kept the door propped open with a milk crate, and only the clank of dishes being cleaned remained since most of the staff had vacated the premises for the night. Steam filtered out along with the scent of lemon suds and roasted meat from the prime rib they’d been serving. Walking away from Olivia Morozov might have been the right thing to do, but she was the one woman who could test his resolve like a bottle of whisky.

Still, after the way he’d left things with her brother Lex, he couldn’t afford to rip open that scab. A return to those memories would put his sobriety through the wringer, and he wasn’t sure he’d survive the test. He sucked another drag from the cigarette, wishing he didn’t have to hit meetings so often to stay afloat. No way in hell would he drag her down with him, even if the thought of her pounded in his mind with the regularity of his heartbeat. Even though the memories of the time they shared had been one ray of sunshine through years of stale beer, fistfights, and regrets.

Footsteps came from the end of the alleyway, drawing his attention.

“We’re closed,” he said, tipping his ash on the ground before looking up.

“That’s what I figured by the big neon sign out front,” a wry, sarcastic voice sounded. The familiarity jolted through his veins like the first sip of bourbon, followed by the subtle scent of citrus from the perfume she always wore. The streetlamp’s lighting in this alley didn’t do her justice, but even now, the sight of her knocked the air from him.

Liv Morozov strolled his way in a sleeveless swing dress, the canary yellow color enhancing her creamy skin and the sleeve of ravens and orchids that coiled up her right arm. She wore the same Converse as the other day, reminding him of the hellion tomboy she’d been in high school while she tagged along on their adventures. Her cerulean hair was pinned back in curls he wanted to run his fingers through, and an impertinent smile rested on her red-as-sin lips.

Her pale blue eyes danced with mischief and the same stubborn determination that had them sneaking around her brother, even though Lex would have blown a gasket if he’d known. Zane would have given the girl the moon if he could, but one bad night had cost him everything, and he’d plunged down a hellish spiral ever since.

“Should have known you wouldn’t let things lie,” Zane muttered, running a hand through his tangled locks. Even though a flash of irritation crashed through that she’d found him after he tried to walk away, he fought to hide the smile threatening to surface. A stupid, selfish part of him didn’t want to let her go.

Liv quirked a brow. “You’re the dumbass who told me where you worked. Like I wouldn’t take the initiative?” She crossed her arms over her chest, the folds of her dress swirling around her knees as she came to a halt. “You can scowl at me all you want, Zane Parata, but I’m not leaving here without a second date or at least an explanation.”

Zane leaned against the brick wall, lifting his cigarette to his lips as he sucked in more nicotine. He eyed Liv, not sure how to respond. Other girls he could blow off with ease, but other girls hadn’t shown up for a random date wearing his jacket from a decade ago. Fuck, and the way she smelled, the burst of grapefruit and orange made him want to sink his teeth into her smooth skin and take a bite. He opened his mouth to respond, and despite the calm-cool exterior she projected, he caught a slight flinch to her features. The hesitation in her braced shoulders he’d bypassed on first glance.

Her business was her own, and yet the desire to know her like he once did, to understand what changed her in their years apart, rode him with a fervor he found hard to deny. Dismissing her, blowing her off now might destroy what little remained of himself.

He flicked his stub of a cigarette to the asphalt and lifted his hands in surrender. “Your stubbornness wins again, Livs. Name the time and place and I’m there.” Guilt warred with the giddiness in his chest—no way in hell should he be indulging her, but he spoke before he could help himself.

Her mouth quirked with an adorable smile, and the hesitance vanished. “Fine. Now,” she challenged, her blues flashing in a predatory anticipation. She leaned against the brick beside him, inches away, and fixed her stare on him. “And your place.”

Oh hell. Zane sent a silent prayer to whoever the fuck might be listening. If he spent time alone in his apartment with Liv, if the fireworks exploding between them at merely meeting were any indication, he knew where this was headed. He delivered a wide grin back, showing his teeth, and based on the way her teeth sank into her lower lip, he wasn’t the only one affected. Two could play the bravado game.

His apartment had turned into a kingdom of old mail and empty glasses, and he smelled like grease and sweat from the kitchen—great impression he’d make.

“You want to come over? Now?” he asked, disbelief causing his brows to rise.

Liv shrugged. “I don’t want to see some trussed up version of you, Z. You might think I’ll scare away easily, but we knew each other once, and I thought pretty well. If you’re crashing back into my life, I don’t want the mask you put on for this place or whatever girls you wine and dine—I want the real deal.”

A bitter smile graced his face. “You say that now, but I can promise you you’ll end up disappointed. I’m not the guy you knew once upon a time, and you can search hard and long but you’re not going to find him.”

“And I’m not the same girl either,” she challenged, fire melting the ice blue of her gaze. “So let’s stop with the bullshit. We’re both adults, we’re both single, and if we choose to have some fun, then that’s on us. No one’s asking you for your deep darks, but if we’re spending any kind of time together, I won’t tolerate fake.”

He shook his head, charmed by the raw way she spoke, at how her emotions bled onto the pavement without even trying. Liv breathed life in the way a husk like him had forgotten how to feel while the urges itching under his nails on a regular basis threatened to consume him. Rock bottom wasn’t a pretty place.

“If you’re so determined to see my shit-hole of a place, then follow me,” he said, tilting his head towards the street before taking the lead out of the alley. “I live up the street.”

As he strode down the sidewalk, she kept an easy pace with him despite her smaller size. She’d always speed-walked to keep up with Lex and him in the past, but the memories of his former best friend left jagged marks. Zane’s mind whirled with a thousand and one worries, and the urge to grab a bottle of anything at the Liquor Mart along the way created a constant pounding in the back of his skull. When any stressor reared its ugly head, the urge to drink returned in full force. His sponsor said with time and effort, control grew a little easier, the pounding less intense, but he understood he would be fighting this battle for the rest of his life.

Not the sort of struggle anyone else signed up for.

“You had to wait until I was done with work?” he asked, lifting his brow. “We couldn’t do this another time when I don’t smell like I walked through a spice rack?”

Liv gave him the side eye. “Consider it punishment for being such a stubborn ass.”

“My lord, woman,” he said, slipping his hands into his pockets. He pinched the chip in his right pocket, always his reminder. “You’re pure evil.”

Damn if her satisfied smirk didn’t make him hard. The swing of her hips as she walked alongside him and the too familiar scent of her caused him to rev on all cylinders. He’d grown used to fear from guys or coy flirting from women, not this brazen sass Liv didn’t hesitate to throw his way. She teased in a raw, unapologetic way, which most might mistake for confidence. He could sense the undercurrent behind the bold show, though—the desperate act of someone who had nothing to lose.

Whatever had happened since he last saw her added a hesitancy to her steps and iced over those once clear eyes. She wielded sarcasm with a bitter whip, and he recognized his own tactics a mile away. Curiosity kept him in the game, even when he should have been walking the other way.

Already, the smell of grease and cheese wafting his way from the pizzas at Slice of Heaven made his stomach rumble. Although he’d spent all night preparing meals for the patrons, he’d been so busy he hadn’t eaten. He glanced over to catch Liv’s eyes on him, an inquisitive look on her face.

“Why a chef?” she asked, stretching her arms behind her back as they slowed. “Thought you were interested in engineering way back when—you used to ace your math and science classes.”

Zane rifled a hand through his hair, loosening the knot he’d pulled it into while at work. The past left a bitter film on his tongue. Back in high school, even with the problems going on at home, a big, bright future had sprawled out ahead of him. All too fast those outlooks had narrowed until he counted himself lucky to survive to the next day.

“Jail time is what happened,” he said as they headed down the alley to the aluminum steps leading to his apartment. “Turns out a felony isn’t much of a resume booster. See what I mean by this whole thing’s a big waste of time? College grad like you has options.” The steps rattled as he led the way up, but when a second pair of footsteps didn’t follow, he paused and turned around.

Liv stood at the bottom clutching the railing tight, refusing to look at him. “Not if you dropped out,” she muttered.

Zane pinched the bridge of his nose. Way to make her feel like shit, asshole. He wasn’t just a fuck-up, but a grade-A jerk.

“Well then you’ve qualified to hang out in my shit-shack with me. Come on up and we can bitch about the plutocracy.” He leaned against the railing around his landing, his grip tightening. Liv’s lips pursed before she looked at him, the spark returning to her eyes. She moved up his steps with effortless grace, the slight rattle of the aluminum the only indication—nothing like the way he stomped up with creaks and groans abounding.

Zane opened his door, greeted by the stale darkness inside the place that had been vacant for a good part of the day. A hiss sounded through the apartment, the Glade plug-in he’d nabbed from the grocery store squirting some fresh and clean scent. Flicking on the light, dim amber rays illuminated the threadbare maroon couch that had seen better years and the scratch-and-dent coffee table from Goodwill. Most of the time he was too busy escorting visitors to his bedroom to give a damn what they thought about his furniture choices, but he ducked his head as she entered, and he quick-stepped to the kitchen in an attempt to lead her away.

Liv didn’t seem to be paying his furniture any attention though, the full force of her gaze remaining glued on him. The tension made the room seem that much smaller, like it shrunk a little more every second their eyes locked.

Zane opened up the fridge, the chill cooling off his heated skin. “What can I get you to drink? I’ve got raspberry seltzer, orange juice, or tea.”

“What happened to your undying love of IPAs?” Liv asked, leaning against the short amount of counter space in his cramped kitchen. “You used to slam those things like nobody’s business.”

A flush of shame hit his cheeks, making him grateful for the cover of his tan skin. Zane hunched in front of the fridge, warring like he always did with blurting out the truth or making up some bullshit. Most folks blanched when you broadcast your inability to imbibe alcohol without becoming a raging waste of life; even if they gave the polite nod or murmur of understanding, judgment followed in their eyes every time.

“Don’t drink anymore,” he settled on the truth, even if he skated the edges of the whole, ugly story. “Not like that.”

“I’ll take the seltzer then, rockstar,” she said with a wink, allaying the awkwardness in his statement.

He snagged the bottle from the fridge and glanced to her. “You hungry at all?”

“You just got off your shift, Z. I’m not going to make you work some more.” She shook her head, even though her stomach rumbled in response.

A smile curved his lips. “Quit playing martyr. I’ve got leftovers I can heat for us.” He dipped into his fridge and pulled out some containers. After turning the oven on, he slid the glass containers inside—he’d made a couple more servings than necessary the other day, he tended to do that a lot. The downside of the love for cooking he’d cultivated was the lack of people to share said meals with. At the end of the day, he sat by his lonesome, scarfing food under the half-burnt lightbulb in his living room.

“To think, you were right under my nose all this time,” Liv said, shaking her head, a rueful smile on her face as she rested her palms behind her on the granite-lined countertop.

“You still living in Indian Hills like your folks?” Zane asked, pouring them each a glass of seltzer water. As he passed the tumbler over to her, their hands brushed. The connection sizzled so electric, so igniting he almost dropped the glass. A mere touch from her lit his veins on fire, and based on the way her full lips pursed and she scanned the length of him, he wasn’t alone in his reaction.

Liv knocked back the glass, drinking the seltzer like water. Her tongue snuck out as she licked her upper lip, and he watched the motion, desperate to taste her. “Nah, moved to Meadowlane Apartments right outside the city post-college. Since I’ve got gigs all over the place, it’s been a solid location.”

The oven added to the heat blooming between them. The hunger in Liv’s eyes had nothing to do with the food he warmed up for them, and everything to do with the stolen kisses of teenagers and the unresolved way they had left things. Even with the fair share of women Zane had tangled with through the years, he had always yearned for her and never forgotten the unique connection they’d shared.

Liv rummaged through his kitchen, peeking into the unlabeled canisters with the methodical curiosity that was always a part of her personality.

“See something you like?” he asked, lifting his brows.

“Yeah, I do.” Her tongue glided over her canine tooth in a liquid motion that sent his blood flowing south. He wanted her in the way he yearned for a glass of bourbon, a fury pounding through his bones, in his brain. When they were kids, they had to sneak around—Lex would have thrown a shitfit if he had seen them together. Not like that mattered in the slightest now. His former best friend hadn’t returned his calls since the day he got locked up.

The scents from the oven alerted his attention, and he grabbed a mitt before tugging the food out. “Hope you’re hungry—I keep my meals portioned and plated out of habit.” Not like he tried to impress—at least not too hard—but the way her eyes widened at the sight of the food gave him silent satisfaction.

“All right, chef-boy—throw your fancy lingo at me. What am I digging into?” she asked after she peered at the plate he pushed her way.

His lips quirked in a smile—he’d been working at an upscale restaurant long enough to have learned the terms. “Smoked Alaskan salmon with a side of brown butter gnocchi and Swiss chard with slivered almonds. Granted, it tastes a helluva lot better fresh.”

Liv speared a forkful of salmon, lifting the bite to her mouth and closing her eyes as she savored it. The moan that came from her was sinful, not helping the dirty-as-hell thoughts taking up space in his head. “Fuck being an engineer, Z. You’ve got talent here.”

He dug in to hide his smile and the way her comment warmed him to the bones. The salmon reheated well, and the brown butter gnocchi tasted just as good as the other day, the nutty notes melding with the hint of parmesan and black pepper. Silence spread through his kitchen, but not the awkward sort, as they dove into the food with the abandon of vultures to roadkill. He remembered how, back in the day, he’d sat in the basement of the Morozov’s house, digging into a pizza with Liv and Lex, and he missed those casual shared meals in a fierce way.

“You have any of your latest work?” he asked as he finished off the last bits of salmon, dropping the plate into his kitchen sink. “I’d love to see what you’ve been doing with photography.”

A blush stained her cheeks, and she tucked a couple strands of hair behind her ear as she passed him to deposit her plate in the same spot. She stopped where she stood, an inch away as she lifted her chin to look him in the eye. So close, he could see the freckles sprinkled across her nose and cheeks and feel her intensity.

“I missed you like crazy, Z.” The gravity in her voice arrested him on the spot. His breath hitched, and even though he knew he should step away, even though he knew the inevitable next step, he couldn’t. The magnetic pull he felt towards her defied reason, and that subtle scent of citrus had him spellbound. He rested his hand along the curve of her waist, ready to tug her towards him.

Liv lunged in—those lips pressed to his and all restraint flew out the door.

5

The moment the warmth of Zane’s hand soaked through the thin cotton of Liv’s dress, his possessive grip spurred her to action. Even though she’d been a tundra inside for so long, Z brought her body to life with exquisite precision, dosing her with the heady awareness she’d believed lost. But by God, she had longed for that sense of normalcy so, so much, of a time before she was broken.

She pressed her lips against his, the softness a surprise as adrenaline swept through her body in an all-encompassing rush. His grip around her waist tightened, those big hands making her feel safe all while she dipped a toe over the edge of a cliff. The bristles of his beard brushed against her chin, a rough contrast to his smooth lips that enhanced her senses. Z smelled like sweat and sage, the scent causing warmth to coil in her core and her pulse to quicken, all while she drank in the taste of him, of smoke and pepper and memories.

The fabric of her dress bunched as his grip tightened, and he pulled himself nearer. This close and personal, he towered over her, packing powerful, coiled muscle she wanted to wrap herself around. He kissed her with the ferocity of all the longing that squeezed her insides tight, his tongue slipping through the seam of her lips. She returned his attention just as desperately, the spark between them igniting into an explosion. Maybe she didn’t know why he left, maybe he didn’t know her secrets, but right now none of that mattered.

Right now, she was given a second chance away from the constant problems pounding at her doorstep. Right now, she didn’t want to think about the future, she just wanted to feel something wild and deep, something with fire enough to thaw the ice encasing her heart. Her knees wobbled at the intensity unfurling between them, and she stumbled back. He moved with her, never losing the grip around her waist that kept her upright when she bumped against the counter.

The years melted away as they kissed, each clash of their lips like he was breathing life into her once more, like her hopes hadn’t shattered on the rocks years ago. Like she was still sixteen and could almost reach the sky full of stars.

He hoisted her onto the counter, and her pulse quickened, her heartbeat hammering in her chest with a need only he could sate. Even as she sank into the fevered kisses between them, wetness spread between her legs, and her core wound tight. She braced her hands on the countertop, her dress shifting so the cool surface pressed against her bare thighs, a contrast to the heavy heat in the air.

She lost herself in the way they came together, how his big body pressed hers against the counter, the feel of those taut, tanned muscles making her all the hotter. He leaned to the side of her neck, nipping the bare skin. Her nipples tightened, and she squeezed her thighs tighter around him in response to the pleasure that shot through her. Even with the loose pants he wore, his erection strained against the fabric, intensifying the building ache for him deep inside.

The masculine scent of him, all sweat and a musk that was uniquely Z’s drew her in like a moth to the flame. She drank in the taste of him with each delirious kiss. Her knees trembled, but the countertop kept her steady, as well as the way he braced her against his cabinets. Her fingers curled into his shoulders, her nails biting into the hard muscle as she let out a low moan.

“God, I want you,” he murmured against her mouth.

“I’m all yours, babe,” she whispered. “I always have been.” Her heart ached at the admission, but the words slipped out anyway. They’d reached the point of no return, and she wanted to throw herself into the fire until the flames melted away the years of ice that claimed her. The way he made her feel, made her yearn—like she had been drowning all these years to get a gasp of air at last. And God, she wanted more. She reached for his waistband, tugging down the zipper of his pants.

His gaze flashed, the depth of emotion in those green eyes reminding her how far she’d once fallen for him. How despite the easy smile and smooth bravado Zane used to wield, a storm brewed beneath, one powerful enough to sweep her away. The layers between them were too much. She wanted more. Needed him.

He let loose a growl that reverberated against her lips as he lifted her arms above her head, pinning her against the cabinets.

Her heart soared up, up, up—only to plummet to the icy deeps.

Panic surged through her in a violent sweep, uncontrollable.

She breathed in the thick vanilla scent, tasted the film coating her mouth, and before she could stop herself, Liv lashed out. Her nails clawed at the hands holding her back, at the person standing in front of her, and bile rose in her throat. Her heart raced, and her mind whirled as the driving pulse to escape reigned. She had to get away.

A shout sounded as the obstacle stepped out of the way. Liv leapt off the counter, her soles hitting the ground with a reverberating thud that traveled through her shins. Before she could bolt, dizziness swirled her surroundings, and she threw her hands out.

Reality came crushing in all too fast.

Gone was the heat, gone was the comfort, and gone was Zane Parata’s touch as he stood away from her, his hands up in defense and vibrant red scratches down his arms.

Liv’s mouth dropped in horror, a wide, gaping nightmare she couldn’t run from, one that had come to dominate her entire life.

“What’s wrong?” Zane asked, his voice harsh with worry and his eyes wide with fear.

Liv’s shoulders pumped up and down in the wake of her explosion as heaving, ragged breaths heated her dry lips. The adrenaline which spiked so hard seconds ago came crashing down. The dizzying swill left her scraping the bottom like it always did, a smash to the floor that devastated her into pieces she didn’t know if she’d be able to put back together.

“Fuck.” Her voice grew thick as her throat tightened, and hot tears pricked her eyes. She wanted this. She wanted him so, so badly and had believed maybe for once, her body would cooperate. That she wouldn’t be some freak incapable of even a hookup with the one guy on this planet she still believed in. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

Shame flushed through her in a fierce sweep, and her hands balled into fists at her side. Tears escaped, stinging her eyes and leaving hot trails down her cheeks even as she hated herself more. Liv sagged against his cool kitchen wall while the moment between them shattered. All the longing, all the hope that had snuck through her defenses hurt all the harder now in the wake of this failure. At screwing up the one chance she’d gotten to escape the complicated mess her life had become.

“Livs, are you okay?” Zane asked, taking a step closer. His hands were lifted in caution, but he didn’t touch her, as if he were taming some feral beast. Not like she could blame him after the angry marks she’d left on his skin. Her nails still tingled from the way she’d lashed out. Her knees wobbled, and she sank to the floor, the tears streaming down her cheeks unchecked as her shoulders shook. All the bravado in the world couldn’t recover this situation.

The bastard had ruined her. A couple years had passed since she dropped out of college, but one bad night and she’d been changed forever, ruined from ever feeling like herself again.

Zane’s eyes flashed with concern, his mouth drawn and serious as he crouched to the floor in front of her. “Did I do something wrong?” he asked.

The fear in his tone, the quiet hesitation destroyed her, and she cried even harder. Sobs wracked her body even as she hated herself for crying. Even as she hated showing this weakness in front of anyone, especially him. How on earth could he think it was him? Zane had been there during all her teenage drama with his solid presence, those bone-squeezing hugs, and focused attention that brought her to life whenever she felt too invisible. She could feel his self-loathing descend as strongly as her own, the pinch of his lips and the ragged swallow undoing her.

Liv forced herself to shake her head even as tremors rumbled through her, the crash of the adrenaline hitting in force. How could she ever explain to him how broken she’d become? The thought of diving into that past made her throat tighten and made her mind scream. Crazy girl was the badge she wore now, a warning to all men who dared interact with her.

He settled his hand on her knee, tentatively at first, as if worrying she’d lash out when he touched her. Not like she blamed him. She covered her mouth with her hand, trying to stifle her sobs, trying to rein herself in from this ugliness he’d witnessed. This had all been a mistake. Hoping, believing herself fixed for even a heartbeat—a terrible mistake.

The heat from his palm settled her, care she didn’t deserve. Not after she’d sliced into him with her nails like little more than a wild animal.

“Not you,” she managed, needing to banish the guilt in his eyes, needing him to understand her outburst wasn’t his fault. That it had never been his fault, even if she couldn’t force the words out. Understanding darkened his eyes all too fast as the conclusions hit him. His brows furrowed, his grip on her knee tightened, and a deep, deep rage sparked in those green eyes.

Shame pinked her cheeks already sticky with tears. Her eyes began to dry, but in the wake of the torrent of emotion buffeting through her, only an aching hollowness remained. Liv forced a shaky breath down in an attempt to calm herself. The outburst still resounded through his apartment in the rife silence that descended between them.

“Who did it?” he asked. Everyone asked the question when the truth came marching in whether she ever stated the words or not. After a time, most of her closest friends pieced together what had happened, even though the response always dried on trembling lips before she could ever force it out.

Like a name would give them some peace. Like the who mattered in the end. After all, the asshole who did this to her probably didn’t freeze up over stupid shit. He wasn’t waking up in a cold sweat and stuck in nightmares on an endless loop. He didn’t carry the invisible scars with him on a daily basis. Before him, she’d been whole, she’d been strong—and now she was broken, fighting every day to glue together the pieces.

“I’ve got to go,” she murmured, rising on shaky legs. “I-I can’t do this right now.”

Zane opened his mouth to protest but silenced once their eyes met. She must have looked like shit, because all of his efforts to fight ceased at once. Liv ran her hands down the front of her dress, smoothing out the wrinkles in the skirt over and over, like that would help in the slightest. The damage had been done, and Zane had seen all of her ugliness paraded out on Front Street. The dreams that surfaced upon meeting up with him again winked out of existence, stars darkening for good.

Without another word, Liv strode out of his apartment. He’d walked away the first time, and he’d been right to do so then. Some people were too damaged to fix.

In the days following her stupid-as-hell idea to meet up with Zane, Liv had achieved full zombie status.

She’d scheduled one photo shoot for today with a coffee shop up the street who was introducing a new line of products and needed some snaps for their website. The camera bag hung heavy along her shoulder as she walked back to her apartment, and the sunlight did little to penetrate the cold saturating her marrow. She’d worked on automatic back there, the click-click of her camera ringing hollow as she worked, as hollow as she’d become.

She locked her Subaru and heaved a sigh, wishing she could rewind to last week when her guards were still up and her defenses high. Before she’d made the stupid mistake of getting her hopes up. Her teal locks didn’t bring her the delight they normally did as she caught their glimmer in the sun, the way the shades shifted with each step. The entire world had turned to black and white, devoid of color and light, devoid of everything she loved to explore through her camera lens.

Liv hadn’t experienced a setback like this since those early days after the night it all went down, when she’d hidden inside her dimmed apartment in a world of gray shadows and refused to come out. Lex and her folks had been worried sick, but months had passed before she could bring herself to explain to them what happened—and even then, the words gummed in her mouth, coming out awkward and stumbling.

Some asshole camped out on the front stoop of her apartment building, stretching his long legs down a couple steps and placing him in the way of anyone who tried to go in and out of the building.

Liv’s jaw clenched. She wasn’t in the mood to deal with human beings at the moment.

Until she stepped closer.

Zane Parata sat on her stoop, hunched forward with his elbows digging grooves on his thighs and a faraway look in those gorgeous green eyes. She came to a halt in front of him, and his gaze lifted to meet hers.

“You’re not the only one capable of being stubborn, Livs.”

6

Ever since that night, Zane’s chest burned with a rage that couldn’t be quelled, one that drove the urge for the bottle even stronger. He’d called his sponsor four or five times and attended every meeting he could outside of work. Even still, his feet dragged each time he passed by the neons on the discount liquor shop. When Livs told him back in the Café that she had a rough go, he would’ve never have imagined the girl he loved had gone through those horrors.

Rage mingled with shame, fueling his own insufficiencies. If he had never gotten locked up or been a fuck-up like his father, maybe he could have pursued something with Liv Morozov. Maybe he could have prevented her from getting scarred like this.

He hunched forward on the doorstep of her apartment complex, looking up at the woman who’d run out of his place mere days ago.

Liv’s jaw dropped in surprise. Her teal curls were pulled back in a sloppy bun, and rings circled her eyes, giving her a haunted look, like she hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep. Based on the beast of a camera hanging around her neck, she must have come from a job. With the storm brewing inside him, he had to summon every ounce of courage to face her, but he needed to be here. Zane had abandoned her once, and the worst happened. After the way she’d broken — after the way she’d shattered—watching her crumble had been like looking into a mirror, and he couldn’t let her plummet to those depths alone.

“Z, you’re better off running as fast as you can in the opposite direction,” she said, steeling her jaw. Despite the brittle edge to her voice, he didn’t miss the way those blue eyes wavered. “We’ve reconnected, so now you know. I’m way too much to handle.” The harsh rasp in her voice broke his heart, the echo of pain and self-loathing he understood so well.

Zane quirked an eyebrow. “Isn’t that my choice? I get a say in what I can handle.” She sucked in a shaky breath, and her lips pressed tight together rather than respond. Liv’s stare burned with the ferocity of the ugly emotions that stormed in his own chest, a toxic brew he’d been drinking for so long. “I want another date,” he said with a surprising steadiness in his voice as he locked eyes with her.

“Sure you do,” she shot, placing her hands on her hips. “Want another sob-fest from me or more bodily harm? Those scratches look pretty fresh.” The bitterness in her tone ached him, like she’d become frozen from the inside out. Still, for once, he remained steady.

“Oh this?” he lifted his arm. “That’s nothing compared to the scar I have on my side from when I got stabbed back in prison. Hell, sweetheart, you’d have to try a lot harder to leave any real damage—you’re one of the only folks who knows why my knuckles are as scarred as they are or why the arthritis set in early.” To say he wasn’t sad when the cops found his father passed out dead in an alley would put it mildly—Zane had nearly rejoiced.

Her gaze darkened, and she heaved a sigh before running a hand through her tangled curls. “But I’m a mess,” she tried to argue.

He didn’t bother restraining the smirk that rose to his face, his gaze heating with challenge. “I want the real deal. Sound familiar?” He spouted her words back at her, meaning them more than ever. He didn’t want any pretensions, none of the superficial posturing that came with a normal date. He wanted the girl who once made his blood burn with desire and the one who’d become an even more complex and nuanced woman.

He might be a train wreck waiting to happen, but he’d let her make the call to walk away. Her rejection would rip him in two—hell, he’d been on the receiving end of the ‘I can’t handle your damage’ speech more times than he wanted to count. However, he refused to make her go through the agony. Refused to shatter her further after the hell his Livs had been through.

Liv shook her head, a half-smile rolling to her face. “I should have expected that one.”

He grinned back, revealing teeth. “Yeah, you should’ve. Now are you going to invite me in or what?”

She hopped over his leg up the step and strode to the front door, her keys jangling in her hand. “Don’t expect the fancy food you make,” she said, not glancing to him.

His heartbeat sped as he rose before following her inside the building, the faint scent of cat piss permeating the foyer. The jagged edge of hope sliced through him yet again, despite the defenses he maintained and despite the boundaries he put in place. Hope led to disappointment and the bottle, a lesson he’d learned again and again, but like his father always said—lessons never stuck with Zane Parata.

He sauntered up the stairs after her to the second floor corridor she strolled down, not looking back. Her torn jeans and oversized Iron Maiden tee was a far cry from the dresses and skirts he’d seen her in before, but this stoked his desire even more. Something could be said for leaving the masks behind, for ditching the pretense at being okay.

Liv opened her apartment door, and he followed her inside, only to be serenaded with a chorus of yowls from the little gray tabby that appeared. He crouched and put his hand out as the cat approached to nudge at his fingers, erupting in a cavalcade of purrs. He glanced up to see Liv’s eyes on him, softened from the ice cold she’d displayed outside.

“That’s Sir Percival the Bold,” she murmured, raking her fingers through her tangled curls that she’d loosened from the bun.

He cocked an eyebrow as he looked at her. “Oh yeah, he’s pure ferociousness.” The cat continued rubbing against his callused hand, the body vibrating with the strength of motorboat purrs.

“I’m being a shitty host,” she proclaimed, as if waking out of a stupor. “I’m going to put the kettle on for some tea, and you’re going to like it.” He glanced to her, his heart warming at the way she rallied, at how she clung to her brashness like a safety net. Without further comment, Liv marched out of the room into the kitchen, her boots slapping the linoleum and her motions less than graceful as the chorus of clanks followed. Zane straightened from his crouch, making his way across the hardwood towards the black leather couch pressed against her vivid purple walls.

The explosion of color around the room, the photographs plastered around the place in even intervals, and even the lingering scent of jasmine in the air all lived and breathed Olivia Morozov. He settled into the couch, his arms stretched out along the back as he soaked in the pictures all around her living room. She had a sharp eye for photography in high school, and the years had honed her skill with composition and light. The landscapes were lush and haunting while the portraits offered the subject’s vulnerabilities on display.

Liv stepped into the room carrying two earthenware mugs, steam curling from them to rise to the ceiling. She’d ditched the hoodie back in the kitchen and must have finger combed her hair into a fresher ponytail. Her pale lavender socks came halfway up her calves, her boots tipped over at the entrance of the kitchen, abandoned. “You still like green tea, right?” she asked, handing over the mug. “If not, you’re getting this cup anyway, because I need this singe-your-brows-off Irish breakfast at the moment.”

He grinned, entertained by the sass that hadn’t been dimmed but sharpened through the years. “That defensive over tea? Did you spit in the cup or something?”

She pursed her lips as she took a seat beside him on the couch, tucking her legs by her side. “Tea is serious business, jackass.” Liv blew the steam from the top to send it rolling. “So I’m assuming you came for an explanation about the other night, yeah?” At the comment, the smiles vanished, and gravity edged her words.

Zane shook his head. “That’s never been how I work, Liv or how we were. I’m not going to make you rip open old scars to satisfy my own insecurities. You tell me how we proceed, because I’ll be honest—I still find you sexy as hell, and I’ve never forgotten the connection we shared.” Her eyes flared at his admission, the intense yearning in those blues striking a deep resonance within him. Liv didn’t move, though her muscles tensed and her mouth closed, as if she’d run out of witty defenses and backed herself into a corner.

Somehow in the wake of her explosion, his own nerves had been calmed, like her outpouring of emotion allowed his as well. Still, he understood what cost the outpouring entailed, how it tilted the scales in his direction. Right now, she was the one who had the uncontrolled release and had tipped her hand before she wanted to. The shock of unexpected vulnerability would make anyone bolt. Even though she might decide to ditch here and now, for once he wanted to roll the dice.

“I walked away the first night because I’m an alcoholic, Livs,” Zane said, the admission scraping his throat raw in the process. The word said aloud made him cringe, from the thousands of confessions at the meetings to the memories tied along with it, of the scent of vomit and piss in a rotten alleyway, of how every muscle in his body ached so much he believed he’d never move again, and of the deep depression saturating his bones in the aftermath, so strong he wanted to die.

She gripped her mug tighter, and Zane swallowed, hard, waiting for her to respond. Needing her to say something, anything, as his nerves buzzed on edge. The familiar panic began to rear, the one of the judgment and derision that followed his confession. Of the self-loathing haunting him daily.

The stroke of soft, slender fingers over his hand drew his attention. Liv rested her palm over his, squeezing tight. No words were necessary in the wake of what the gentle motion conveyed, but she opened her mouth anyway.

“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.

7

Liv lifted her gaze from the bowl of congealing ingredients that was supposed to be banana nut muffins. Somewhere along the way, she’d botched the recipe. Batter splattered the countertops, flour claimed the floor, and milk pooled on her stovetop. The idea stemmed from a solid place—with her good-as-hell mood, she brimmed with sunshine today, and her bestie was coming to visit. However, the execution hadn’t followed suit.

“Hey-o, I’m here,” Tessa’s voice sounded as the door to her apartment creaked open and shut. A second later, Tessa popped into her kitchen, wearing neon purple running sneakers and a skin-tight spandex jogging ensemble that would make most men drool. Liv rubbed her cheek, which had gained a crusted splotch of batter from her valiant battle in the kitchen. Not like her cooking would hold a candle to Zane’s—even the way he’d plated his leftovers made her trigger finger itch to take a picture.

Tessa’s jaw dropped as she soaked in the devastation. “You know if you wanted baked goods you could’ve gone to Kroger, right?”

“Shut it, I wanted to try something new.” Liv wiped another crusty piece of batter from the counter and flicked the glob in Tessa’s direction with a scowl on her face. Her friend blocked the missile before leaning forward to peer into the half-empty bowl.

Tessa’s nose wrinkled. “My god, is that Cthulu rising out from the muck?” Liv elbowed her in the side as her best friend lifted a brow. “Don’t suppose the good mood has anything to do with the hottie you met up with in the café?”

She attempted a scowl, but the mention of Zane made her heart bounce in double time. “Maybe a little.”

“So when do I get to meet the mystery man?” Tessa asked, daring to lick at the piece of batter. She frowned and a second later raced over to the sink to spit it out. “You’d better toss that shit before I have to haul you away for working with radioactive waste unprotected. That’s a hazard to civilization.” Tessa scrubbed at her tongue like she’d swallowed poison.

Liv shot her a glare but snagged the bowl from the countertop, bringing her creation over to the trash can. As she scooped out the gunk she let out a sigh. As much as she wanted Z and her bestie to become fast friends, with his colorful history and the fierce devotion Tessa had to her job, she wasn’t sure if they’d even manage civil. Hell, she hadn’t dared broach the subject with Lex. There were still so many unknowns between her and Zane as they tread this uncharted territory, too much tangled history to involve her brother yet.

“Earth to Liv, do I get to meet him?” Tessa asked, waving a manicured hand in front of her face.

Liv allowed herself a small smile at the demands of her loving-as-hell and ferocious friend. “You can, but I’ve got to talk to him first. Cops make him a bit twitchy.” Tessa folded her arms across her chest. With the crook of her brow, she gave Liv the go-ahead to continue. Liv let out a sigh, scraping a bit of batter from her curls. “He’s an ex-con—got locked up when we were younger, but his record’s been clean ever since.”

The tension she wanted to avoid descended. Tessa’s expression darkened, her brows furrowing with the stubborn line that always appeared between them. “What was he locked up for?” she asked with an edge to her voice that hadn’t been there before.

Liv swallowed, hard, knowing Tessa wouldn’t like the picture she was about to paint. “I don’t know. Zane and Lex used to be best friends back in high school, but when he got locked up, Lex refused to broach the subject.” Tessa didn’t say a word, but the judgment in her pursed lips slammed into Liv full force. She knew how bad the situation appeared on the surface. Her choice made no logical sense, to go on dates with a ghost from her past with such a complicated history. And of course, after the way she’d been hurt she should be exercising more caution than ever.

Except she also knew how her own story looked on paper. She’d been at the mercy of labels before, and she could vouch that they failed to scratch the surface of her reality.

“Even if he’s been clear ever since, if he murdered someone, that’s a pretty big stain, which doesn’t go away. You can spend a lifetime trying to repent for one transgression,” Tessa warned. “Have you tried talking to your brother?”

Liv shook her head. “Hell no. We’re trying to sort this out ourselves without bringing family into the mix yet. And if Lex wouldn’t even tell me his best friend went to jail, why the hell would he ‘fess up now?” Tessa delivered a knowing stare back, and Liv pursed her lips. “Look, the Z I knew had been dealt a bad hand, but I’ve never met a more caring person in my entire life. Tessa, he’s the first guy I’ve felt safe around ever since…y’know.”

Liv trailed off, spreading her palms against her tile countertop as she braced herself. She understood clear as day why her bestie might be defensive and why she would raise these logical questions. How the hell could she explain the way her heart opened up around him for the first time in too long? When she was around him, the frozen tundra inside began to melt at long last. The old pain in his eyes, the same she’d seen when they were teens, was one she now understood.

Around Zane, for a brief breath she didn’t feel fucked up and damaged.

Tessa clenched her jaw before letting out a huff of a sigh. “I can already see you’re stubborn about this one, so I’m not going to waste time fighting you on him. However, if you don’t find out why the hell he got locked up, and soon, I’ll find out myself. You can’t ask me to sit on the sidelines if I don’t know you’re safe.”

They locked eyes in a battle of wills, neither willing to relent. Finally, Liv tilted her head with a slight nod. She understood Tessa’s desperation to protect, to keep her safe. Because back in college they’d both been at that party, and Tessa had called it an early night. Her best friend still hadn’t forgiven herself for not being there, no matter how many times Liv assured her that the blame belonged to the monster who fucked her up and no one else.

“I know you’re all about giving people second chances, but some assholes don’t deserve them.” Tessa shrugged, slipping her hands into her pockets. “I’ve seen enough ex-cons in my time who swore up and down they were fine, that they’d changed their ways and gotten better, but eventually, I was the one hauling them back in. First couple times I might’ve gotten suckered, but after a while, all those false promises amount to a heaping pile of bullshit.”

Liv’s throat tightened. She wouldn’t even bring up the alcoholism that ran in his family, because she guaranteed Tessa would construct a wall around her on the spot to keep her from seeing Zane again. After Tessa’s dad died at the hands of a drunk driver, the woman brewed an intense hatred for alcoholics, one she wouldn’t dismiss. Combine that with ex-con and it created a recipe for disaster.

Hell, Liv didn’t even know if she could handle a relapse from him when she could barely control her own body. However, she refused to dismiss the way he made her heart race and her senses ignite, how he made her hope again after so long. The Zane Parata she knew could brood like the best of them and would try to shoulder his burdens alone until they buried him. And after the tender way he’d handled her last night, she glimpsed the man she’d once fallen for no matter how the years apart had shaped them both.

Liv nodded, meeting Tessa’s gaze. “I’ll find out. I promise. Now let’s move the hell past my love life and get to a coffee shop for real muffins, away from this monstrosity spawning in my kitchen.”

Liv’s stomach started doing cartwheels once she stepped in front of the pool hall, Billiards Anonymous. The music from the band trailed out to the parking lot, the slick, smooth sounds of her favorite kind of rockabilly drawing her in like a siren’s lure. Even though the hour was already late, she would take whatever time she could get with Zane. The idea of seeing him again caused this jittery twelve-cups-of-coffee excitement to course through her veins, melding with the dread he’d no-show, or that in diving into the interrogation Tessa demanded, she would scare him off for good. As much as his presence struck her veins like a match, too many unknowns percolated between them.

Zane stepped under the blue awning and lit his cigarette, his height, stature, and the looming shadow he cast making him unmistakable. Liv’s breath hitched at the sight. He’d groomed his thick mane of black hair back and trimmed his beard. The sallow light of the streetlamps enhanced the contrast of the tattoos coiled up his bronze arms, a web of trees with branches and roots that circled back into the other. The way his gray tee clung to his toned muscles and how his black cargo pants placed his strong thighs on display was enough to stoke her libido.

Even with the way he made her salivate, shame still circulated through her veins in the wake of how she’d ruined what promised to be some of the most mind-blowing sex of her life. With the unpredictable way the reminders of that one night crept up, she couldn’t guarantee their next encounter wouldn’t end the same. Another freeze-up, another freak-out, another way for her to ruin a good thing. Zane would get sick of the difficulties and walk. She couldn’t blame him either. Liv sucked in a deep breath, dispelling her nerves as best she could manage.

“Who’re you waiting for, big guy?” she called out before slinking towards him. Her stiletto heels clacked on the pavement, lurid red in the light, creating the perfect accent to the black cigarette pants and matching headscarf she wore.

Zane’s eyes met hers, and he let out a low whistle upon her approach. She didn’t bother lying to herself that the heated way his stare rolled over her added a bit more swing to her hips.

“Some bombshell stunner who I was half a shade sure would stand me up tonight.” His easy grin made her heart stutter, causing giddiness to swirl through her veins. Still, she smirked at him and led the way towards Billiards Anonymous.

The scent of cigarette smoke and cheap beer slammed into her the moment they stepped inside. Dozens of pool tables were lit by dim green overheads where more than a few people congregated, and in the far corner, a local band strummed away on the elevated stage. Underneath the low, gravelly voice of the vocalist and the blend of guitar and drums was the clink of balls as folks got down to brass tacks and played some pool.

“Want to go a couple rounds?” she asked, tilting her head towards the nearest open table. He stepped next to her and slipped his hand around her waist as they strode together to claim the table. The heat of him made her shiver and made her remember how good those big hands felt on her bare skin. A flush traveled to her cheeks, and she tried to focus on the pool table in front of them rather than Zane, whose sage and musk scent threw her desire into overdrive.

“I’d say a few games of pool sounds a hell of a lot better than sitting slumped in the corner drinking shitty beer,” he said, casting an eye towards the folks by the tables who’d gotten an early start on their night. Zane finished his cigarette, grinding the stub onto one of the many overfull ceramic ashtrays before grabbing two cues. “Gotten any better over the years, or will this be an easy victory?”

Liv bristled with an amused indignity as a smile curled her lips. “Right, because you’re so talented at pool. You better cling to those memories when I kick your ass tonight.” The wicked glint that lit his eyes set her heart on fire—Tessa’s warnings could go fuck themselves. Over the years, she’d met her fair share of assholes with one thing in mind. They didn’t hold her watching Princess Bride until two in the morning. They sure as hell didn’t have the haunted expression that always clung to Zane behind the easy smiles and laughs.

Barely anyone glanced their way, one of the reasons she picked a place like this tonight with her sort of music, a distracting game, and a busy environment where they could lose themselves in. As much as part of her longed to indulge in all the depraved things she wanted to do to him in private, she needed some measure of control to latch onto after her last outburst. If they got hot and heavy again only for her body to freeze-up — or worse, for her to attack him again — she didn’t know how she’d endure those levels of mortification a second time.

Zane leaned forward with his pool cue to break, placing his long, muscled torso and corded arms on display. Apparently this game had some perks she’d forgotten about. She enjoyed watching his thick brows furrow with his intense focus as he thrust the pool cue forward, and the balls tumbled forward across the table.

“Stripes or Solids?” he asked, standing vigilant beside the table.

“You don’t get out much, do you?” she drawled, a smile on her face while she rested a hand on her hip. “I’ve never seen you this eager over a game of pool.”

Zane stepped behind her, an inch away. The closeness made her want to sink against him, but she leaned to the side, offering a glance back. His lips brushed her ear, the feather light sensation sending a thrill through her.

“It’s either play pool or think about how badly I want to fuck you on that table. Since the latter isn’t something we should jump back into yet—let’s play some goddamn pool.”

Liv bit her lip, witty responses drying on her tongue as her core clenched in response. “Stripes,” she forced out, eliciting a cocky-as-fuck smile from him as he stepped to the table. Despite the miserable way their last encounter ended, she couldn’t help the way her body tuned to his, like he plucked every string just right. The heat in his gaze might make her lose her mind, but she’d spent her college years at pool halls, and the visual nature of the game worked for her. She skated her fingertips along the glossy chestnut edges of the table. Right now she could focus on thrashing his ass at this game, not how she wanted him to take her right here and now, onlookers be damned.

“Be my guest,” he said, making space for her as she approached the end of the table, cue in hand. She eyed her quarry, two striped balls on the far side which would make for an easy sink. Liv bent forward, adding an arch to her back as she descended. Not like she needed much effort to snare his attention—Zane’s eyes blazed with heat. Her tongue slid over her upper lip, and she thrust forward with the cue, sending the balls clacking across the table.

Both stripes sank, but as she rose from the table her attention wasn’t on the first victory of the night. Zane watched her with a hunger that made her shiver, and an intensity that made her yearn for completion, causing her whole body to light up with awareness. He flashed her a smug smile, the arch of his brows wicked while he strolled to the opposite side of the table to scope out the solids he needed to sink.

He prowled with a leonine grace around the table, and she couldn’t help but resurrect her fantasies of the man she’d never forgotten, despite the way he vanished. Tessa’s warning loomed, but she couldn’t push herself to shatter the delicate bridge they had re-formed. She’d been drowning in her shame, and self-loathing, and he’d shared a piece of his own freely. He also hadn’t pushed her for answers when so many others had, because he understood some wounds were too painful to re-open. Even if it meant taking a risk, she’d respect his boundaries like he did with her.

Zane sank the shot with ease, the balls clacking as they crashed around the table. Liv stepped back up to plate. Her competitive spirit took control, the same focus she had behind a shutter coming to her now. She stalked around the length of the table, on the hunt for the perfect angle as she scoped her next shot. Minutes melted away with the intensity they poured into their game, an easy back and forth to their conversation like they’d been together for years. Liv’s heart thundered every time he neared, and anticipation flushed through her even while she tried to focus on the game.

All too fast, the final ball sank into the pocket.

The cocky grin spreading on Zane’s face was insufferable. “Looks like you could still use a couple lessons,” he teased, his eyes glinting as he faced her from the opposite end of the table, pressing his palms down along the edge.

Liv arched a brow, unable to prevent the smile rising to her face at the pride beaming off him, at how, for a few brief moments, those eyes weren’t haunted by the past.

“Guess I’m not as practiced as you with thrusting,” she retorted. He let out a bark of a laugh that echoed through the place, which by then was nearly empty.

The band began packing up their gear, the spotlights dimmed, and only a couple folks slumped in the seats lining the far wall remained. Time with Zane flowed like quicksand through her hands. But as much as she wanted to take him home with her, the fear of freezing up again edged the lust simmering through her.

“Time to head out,” he murmured. Liv slipped her pool cue back in the lineup with the others, and he followed suit. As they strode to the door, he remained a breath away, close enough that she could feel his body heat. So close, her body buzzed with caffeine intensity. Once she stepped out the door, the clouds of smoke cleared, and the sharp scent of late night air greeted her.

Disappointment clung to her. If she’d been her old self, normal, the night wouldn’t have to end here. Instead, she resided in this purgatory of longing to touch him while fearing how her body would betray her.

His fingers slid down her back, drawing her attention. She whirled around in response, her heels crunching on the sidewalk. He captured her eyes, and she bit her lip. The tension between them that had been percolating all night heightened, enhanced by the hazy overheads and the gentle breeze. Liv’s breath hitched as she waited for him to make his move, but even as his hands traveled around her waist, he didn’t take the plunge.

Zane was waiting on her, letting her take control despite the desire simmering in those jade eyes.

Liv leaned up, meeting his lips in a tentative brush. The taste of smoke and pepper dosed her with a heady sweep of lust, and a slight moan slipped from her mouth. His grip around her waist tightened as he claimed her mouth with a barely-restrained hunger. She sank against him, her nipples tightening as her breasts pressed against the flat panes of his chest, hard muscle she longed to lick and bite.

Her fingertips curled into his broad shoulders while he kept her upright, the heat from his body enough to make her burn. He gasped, the fire in his eyes stoking her blaze to an inferno. She dove in, her tongue slipping in as she explored his mouth. Despite the way she leapt headfirst off the cliff as their lips clashed again and again, the control he’d given her formed a tether, and her trust in him provided a safety net.

She pressed against him, her core igniting with a desire to go faster, further, to press the pedal on the gas until the scenery blurred around her, until the fears and worries could no longer follow. The distant whir of cars, the occasional footsteps on the sidewalk, and the burble of voices all faded as Zane caressed her mouth, bringing her senses to life after being dormant so long.

Her leg wrapped around his, and the hard length in his pants pressed against her. She panted against his mouth, desperate to feel his skin against hers, to feel him inside her.

Zane traced her bottom lip with his tongue before pulling away. With his palms still pressed against her waist, he took a step back. Liv let out a low groan, and he smiled.

“When we do this for real,” he whispered, the hot breath tickling her ear, “We’d better be somewhere private, because I’m going to make you come so hard you’ll be screaming my name.” Even with the sexy gleam in his eyes, a tender understanding passed between them, and she tilted her head up to bump her forehead against his.

“Well then,” she murmured. “I’ll have to handle it myself in the meanwhile.” She waved two fingers as she broke away from him and began sauntering towards her car, an extra swing in her hips. The groan that came from behind her was reward enough.

8

The sun through Zane’s windshield nearly blinded him as he pulled his beat-up Camry into the parking lot, tires crunching over gravel as he rolled to a stop in front of Cherokee Park.

The past couple of shifts at La Rouge had been hell while both he and Liv had been busy working different hours. Every time he snuck into the alley for a smoke break, his gaze would linger on the entrance in the silent hope she’d round the corner. He’d even begun slowing on his arrival home in case she waited for him on his steps. In a short time, she’d consumed his thoughts, circulating in his veins with the insistency of nicotine. Still, knowing they had this date planned kept him afloat.

For the first time in a while, the dull pulse of demand didn’t drive him to reminders of the chip in his pocket, and the return to his apartment at the end of the day didn’t fill him with dread. He looped the tote bag in the passenger’s seat around his shoulder and hopped out of his rust-red car, the slam of the door echoing through the near-empty parking lot. The breeze held a crisp freshness that brought him to life, but even that didn’t compare to the sight of Liv.

She strode toward him with a sensual swing of her hips. Her scarlet lips dripped with sex, and after the way they’d left off, it took every ounce of self-composure not to kiss the ever-loving hell out of her. With other relationships and hook-ups, he had taken the lead, but he wanted to give her the security she needed by letting her set the pace. He could handle as many episodes as she doled out if she freaked again, but he’d seen the shame and self-loathing in her eyes that night. Another might be all it took to make her bolt.

“Hey beautiful,” his voice soft and sexy. He might show some restraint in his actions, but flirting was an automatic response.

“You talking about my car?” Liv winked, jerking a thumb at her green Subaru. “Love her to pieces.”

Zane’s gaze zeroed in on the camera hanging around her neck from a thick strap. He lifted a brow as he stopped his approach, inches away. “Didn’t know this was a work thing?”

Liv ducked her head, a flush spreading across her cheeks in a way that made his insides warm. She tucked a couple of teal curls behind her ear. “Uh, this isn’t about work, I love taking pictures, and when you said you were making a picnic spread, I wanted to snap a couple shots. You do such a beautiful presentation.”

Well, fuck. The woman could sweep the rug right under him like no one else. His heart melted at the vulnerability, at the high praise coming from a visual artist like her. Without even trying, she pierced his defenses, straight to the core of him. Any cool composure he’d been clinging to vanished, and he closed the distance between them, tilting his head down.

She met his mouth with her lips. Liv’s kiss tasted sinful, the sweet sort of honey he wanted to drink in, and he wrapped his hands around her waist, drawing her body to his. The way she curved to fit against him was nothing short of perfect, and he let the kiss linger, indulging in the citrus scent of her, the gentle swirl of the breeze, and the deep sense of peace that radiated through him whenever they touched.

He pulled away first as the heat spreading in his chest traveled south, his libido sparking to life. Zane hadn’t spent all that time prepping these meals for them to go cold. Liv licked her lips, swiping her finger around the outside to clean up her smudged lipstick. Damn if that didn’t tempt him to dive in again.

“Well, that was one hell of a greeting,” she said with a smile. “Let’s hope the picnic fare matches up.” He didn’t bother restraining his broad grin. The dishes he’d made for today were more significant than she could realize, and he had to admit, his nerves started buzzing the moment he slipped into his car. People could think what they liked about him and Zane didn’t give a damn—he couldn’t afford to. But when it came to Liv he valued her feedback, whether it involved his music from the short-lived band he’d been in, or the career he’d dished up for himself making meals.

“I could’ve made dessert at least,” she grumbled while they set off down the dirt trail littered with pebbles and sprawling vines. Trees loomed in every direction, the breeze carrying the early summer fragrance of unfurled blossoms and fresh-cut grass.

Zane snorted. “Unless your cooking skills underwent a massive overhaul, I’d rather not be poisoned.”

Liv restrained a smile. “Tessa made me throw out the last batch of muffins.”

He shrugged. “We all have our own skills. I might be able to cook, but I can’t sew for shit and you always had a knack for that.”

“Anything in the visual field,” she said, flashing him an earnest grin. The easy way conversation flowed between them made his heart ache. He had isolated himself for so long he had forgotten how to exchange genuine discussion that wasn’t part of a confession in group.

The picnic area stood out at the top of the hill, a gazebo with defined wooden arches in the center, and fencing around the bottom of the building. Noon on a weekday, no one else sat under the covered platform, allowing them the privacy he craved. These moments with Liv were too precious to share. He didn’t know when this fragile thing between them would crumble, didn’t know when things would fall apart, he just knew that they always did. So for the time being he threw himself into the present, savoring every moment he got with her.

Tantalizing aromas wafted from the bag, the contents still piping hot after traveling across town. Anticipation built the higher they climbed. Liv kept trying to peek over the top of the bag, but Zane shifted it away.

“Patience, padawan. You’ll get to eat when we reach the picnic area.” He winked at her, earning a flick to his shoulder in response.

As they walked up together, Liv aimed her camera capturing images of the towering trees in the distance, the pristine blue of the almost cloudless sky, and the dappled shadows patterning the paths. The sound of the camera’s shutter brought Zane back to memories of walking through this park with Lex grumbling about his annoying little sister tagging along. Even then, Zane appreciated her presence, a buffer to his sharp memories and Lex’s hotheadedness. Unlike his best friend, Zane had always appeared a placid lake, despite his screaming matches with his father. Even when the bastard passed and he had to scrape any cash he could to make sure their electric wouldn’t get turned off again, he’d still kept his cool. However, the one time he switched roles with Lex, that’s when Zane got dropped for good.

Liv skipped ahead to the gazebo, claiming the table that overlooked the steepest part of the hill. From this vantage point, there was a breathtaking view of rolling green grass, hazy blue skies, and lush clusters of healthy trees. While she snapped a couple shots Zane settled the bag onto the tabletop and began pulling out containers. After two or three more photos, the scent of tangy pork, gravy, and spices drew her attention.

“Did you get any good ones?” he asked. Her keen, artistic eye always fascinated him, how she sought to find the beauty in even the roughest places. She’d been like that with people too, one of the only souls who managed to coax him out of his shell.

Liv shrugged. “I’ll know more when I go through them, but we’ve got fantastic lighting today.”

Zane spread out the three containers he’d brought of different dishes he’d learned from his mother as a kid. She was from the islands and had brought her unique flavor of cooking along with her, a comfort on the days when his dad stormed in with a temper or could barely peel himself off the floor. Despite the jagged memories of those days, the food still brought comfort. Even now when he visited his mother, the smile that lit her face as he cooked for her cast a bright spot amongst the bleakness.

Liv’s hand rested on his shoulder, the touch and her proximity sparking him to life. He was a little uneasy at sharing something so personal this early on, but despite their recent time apart, he’d known Liv his entire life.

“What did you make?” she asked with a slight smile, the curiosity in those heartbreaker blues ensnaring him.

Zane flipped open the first lid. “This is Loco Moco, a bed of rice covered in gravy, topped with a hamburger patty and an egg.”

“It’s beautiful, Z.” She snapped a shot as she let out an excited squeal. Liv snapped another one before continuing. “You’ve got a great eye for separating the colors—the contrast is stunning.”

His grin spread wide, and pride thrummed in his chest. “I learned a couple tricks over the years.” He pulled off the rest of the lids. “I made poke over white rice with spicy mayo, and shredded Kahlúa pork over fried rice, so I hope you brought an appetite.” The chunks of ahi tuna in the poke glistened with a beautiful reddish hue, the drizzle of spicy mayo creating a striking contrast. The tangy scent of the pork made his mouth water. Liv snapped away, taking a couple shots of the meals he spread out in front of them.

Zane slipped his hands around her waist, unable to keep from touching her as he pressed against her back. Liv bit her lower lip, stopping mid-shot to glance up at him.

“You take gorgeous shots, sweetheart, but the food’s going to get cold.” He enjoyed the way she sank against him when he whispered in her ear, loved how reactive she was, like she could possibly be as turned on as he was every time they interacted.

Liv slipped away to perch on the table beside the food, resting her sneakers on the seat. She scooped up the bowl of poke and held her fork poised over the glistening surface, and hesitated. “It’s too pretty to eat. I feel like a monster ruining this display.”

He rolled his eyes, and snagging the fork from her, he speared the ahi tuna and a bit of rice before lifting the food to her lips. She took the proffered bite, and a moment later, a moan slipped from her throat. He sucked in a breath as the sound shot straight to his cock.

“Z, this is unfair. How are you so goddamn talented?” she complained, stealing the fork from him to nab a couple more bites. He settled on the other side of the table and dug into the Loco Moco, the yellow of the eggs mixing with the gravy and soaking into the rice. As the flavors of the savory meat and gravy hit his mouth, the smooth texture of the eggs, and the grain of the rice, memories came flooding back. Of the frying pan’s sizzle and pop as his mom hunched over the stove and the gentle melodies she sang to herself while she cooked.

“Not like I get to cook this stuff on a regular basis. These are the recipes passed down to my mother from my grams back in Hawaii.” He chewed slowly, enjoying the way the comfort food filled his stomach. Liv leaned across him to spear into the Kahlúa pork, her eyes lighting up the moment the shredded, seasoned meat hit her lips.

“You should open your own place,” she said as she returned to the pork for more.

His heart thudded at the casual way she spoke his dreams aloud, like they were the most natural thing in the world and not some shameful secret. Someone who had fucked up as badly as he had didn’t deserve dreams, but Liv had always believed in a wide-open future for him, one he struggled most days to imagine at all.

“Food truck,” he admitted, staring at the grain of the bench. A flush crept through him that his bronzed skin didn’t betray. “I’ve been saving to open a food truck to serve this sort of stuff.”

“You’d make bank,” Liv responded with a confidence he sure didn’t feel. She glanced up to meet his eyes, her gaze more knowing than he liked, like she lasered past the layers to the deepest core of him. “That’s one hell of a beautiful dream, Z. I hope I’m around to see it realized.”

His heart thundered, but he couldn’t look away from her, not in the wake of the powerful understanding between them. She’d always been reaching for the stars from an early age. Her words struck a deep chord in him.

“You know I’ll be around for as long as you’ll have me,” he murmured. Liv had unlocked the joy he’d buried long ago under layers of shame and self-loathing. She inspired him and accepted him, flaws and all, when not another soul on the planet cared to.

“Come on now,” she said, her voice growing caustic. “We both know you’ll get tired of my freak-outs and extensive damage.” She didn’t need to finish the statement for him to hear the ‘everyone else does.’ He’d lived through it.

Anger flared as he heard his own self-hatred coming from those gorgeous lips. “Not a chance, Livs.”

Her phone beeped, and her glistening eyes glanced to the screen, breaking the tension between them.

“Fuck,” she swore, kicking the wooden seat in front of her.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Tessa can’t come with me to my cousin’s wedding next week. I’m taking pictures, but I’d already told them I had a guest coming, and it’s too late to cancel.” Her gaze rested on his, but a second later she dipped back to stare at the glowing screen. Her lips pursed, and by the way she glanced to him a second time, he knew what question rested on them.

“Two questions,” he said, raising his hand. Her brows lifted, and those bright blue eyes widened. “What day, and will Lex be there?”

A huge smile spread across her face as she rested her phone on the table. “Lex responded no, and the wedding is next Saturday. You’d come with me?” The hesitation in her voice broke his heart.

“Sure, you can introduce me as the obnoxious guy who’s reappeared in your life,” he said with a smile, resting his hand over hers. The contact ignited his veins, and a second later she leaned up to brush her lips over his in a honey-sweet kiss.

“You’re not annoying,” she murmured upon pulling away, her breath on his lips. “Though that does beg the question of what the hell I’m introducing you as?” Liv’s eyes glowed, and she swung off the table to land on her feet, propping one knee up to the wooden seat. She reached up and grabbed his hand. “Zane Parata, would you do me the honor of being my boyfriend?”

“You’re ridiculous,” he retorted, despite the wide smile straining his cheeks. She snuck to his other side and nestled beside him with a casual comfort he’d longed for too many nights to count. He tilted her chin with his fingers to press a kiss against those lips he found so entrancing. Tasting her sweetness, he lingered, savoring the crush of their mouths and how for that moment she chased his loneliness away.

“I’ve only ever been yours, Livs,” he murmured against her lips. In response, she kissed him with a hunger threatening to ignite. Her arms twined around his neck, her body crushed against his, and he slid his palms along the smooth curves of her waist. The insistent demand of his cock made itself known, a pulse he found hard to ignore.

Even though Zane’s life contained too many black stains to be considered a good one, in this moment, he was absolved. Her lips against his, the sun soaking into their skin, and the sweet, fragrant breezes that wafted through this isolated picnic area were nothing short of perfection. Zane would ride out this afternoon for as long as he could, because he’d learned at any early age—that warm, real moments like this were hard to come by.

9

Liv pulled her Subaru into the lot of her apartment, leaning back in the seat for a moment after she came to a stop. She pressed her fingertips over her lips, swollen from the way she and Z had made out at Cherokee Park like a couple of teenagers. She hadn’t felt this amazing or so deeply in far too long. The sheepish way he’d confessed his dream of owning a food truck, like he held the secret dear, launched a missile straight to her heart.

Even though Z always played tough with the guys back in high school, he’d melted around her. He’d revealed a softer side that others couldn’t believe then and definitely wouldn’t believe now, not from the rough-talking, massive man he’d become. Today proved they hadn’t lost that connection, proved she had reason to place her trust in him.

With a jangle of her keys, she slipped out of her car and made her way up the steps to her apartment. Percival the Bold would be yowling up a storm, but he could count himself lucky she’d even returned tonight. Every fiber of her being lit in response to Zane’s touch, the possessive way he held her, and the skillful claim he lay to her lips. Her vibrator had been pulling double duty as of late with the way they kept leaving things. Still, he never pushed, leaving the decision to move forward in her court. For the first time since she’d been assaulted, she felt in control, ready to seal the deal.

A stupid smile played on her face as she slipped the key into the lock and turned, opening her apartment door.

A prickle along her arms halted her as she peered inside rather than strolling right in.

“Hello?” she called out, reaching for the switchblade in her pocket.

“Just me, Liv,” Tessa’s voice came from the other room, delivering a needed dose of familiarity. The paranoia came crashing down, and she sucked in a shaky breath. “We’re in the kitchen.”

Liv’s brows furrowed at the mention of ‘we,’ but she ventured inside. Percival nuzzled against her bare legs, those olive eyes of his glowing with affection. She reached down to run her fingers through the soft fur before continuing towards her kitchen. Tessa showing at random times was no big deal—her bestie had a key—but she’d wanted to bask in the bliss she felt over solidifying her relationship with Zane, and Tessa didn’t approve.

Tessa sat on Liv’s countertop, leaning against the bleach-white cabinets as she lifted a mug of piping hot tea to her mouth.

Lex stood near her, hunched over the bamboo island in her kitchen. When Liv stepped into view, ice blue eyes mirroring her own flicked her way. At the sight of her bestie and her brother standing there with serious expressions on their faces, her stomach soured. Her hand balled into a fist by her side, but she sucked in a steadying breath to keep herself from jumping to conclusions.

“Long time no see, big bro,” she said, reaching up to give him a hug. He wrapped his arms around her and squeezed tight, affection easy like always with Lex. Her nose wrinkled as she skimmed her fingers through his buzz cut. “What are you doing cutting all your gorgeous blonde hair off?”

He arched an eyebrow. “Like you’re any better, dyeing it every shade of the rainbow.”

Liv stepped away from him to the cabinet, pulling out her brass-knuckle mug. Tessa hefted over the electric kettle, steam pouring out the top. She rummaged through her tea canister, determined to not let the surprise visit destroy her good mood. She had her suspicions as to why they’d both shown up on her doorstep at the same time. Lex didn’t pay a visit often enough for his appearance to be coincidence.

“How’s recruiting going?” she asked, swishing her bag of peppermint chamomile around to steep in the hot water. “Did they let you out of your cage early?”

Lex batted a lazy hand at her hair, rustling her curls. “Not all of us consider offices cages. Some folks enjoy a regular schedule.”

Her nose wrinkled in distaste as she leaned against the countertop beside Tessa. “They must be doling out the good drugs where you work. I never drank the Kool-Aid.” She took a sip of tea, the liquid scorching her already sensitive lips. Unease percolated through her veins at their silence, at the way Tessa glanced to her brother with signals that were anything but subtle.

“Liv,” Tessa began, placing her mug on the counter.

Liv lifted her chin and stared at Tessa head-on. “Care to explain the casual coincidence that has you both congregating in my kitchen? You can skip past the bullshit.” She didn’t give a damn if her words were blunt. In outnumbering her, they’d placed her on the defensive.

Lex let out a sharp laugh. “Should’ve known you’d see straight through us, Livs.”

Her childhood name pierced right through her, the one which warmed her heart every time it left Zane’s lips. Here, the nickname slammed into her like an attack. “I’m assuming Tessa took it upon herself to share the details of my personal life with you?”

“Not fair,” Tessa jumped in, her cup of tea lying forgotten as her eyes flashed with frustration. “You of all people should understand why we’d be worried about you getting involved with an ex-con. Even after our conversation, you never dug into his past and never made sure you were safe.”

“Because I am safe,” Liv shot back. Her words fell on deaf ears while Lex and Tessa worked themselves into a protective fury. If she’d never been assaulted, they wouldn’t be questioning her like this. Hell, they might have even trusted the decisions she made about the guys she dated or at least respected her business as her own. What her sibling and best friend didn’t realize was that every time they got riled themselves up like this trying to protect her, they cemented the notion that she was still damaged.

“Like hell you are.” Lex whipped around to face her, frostiness descending like always upon mention of Zane Parata. “I know you had a schoolgirl crush on him back in the day, but he’s not the guy we used to hang out with. He’s not safe to be around.” The chilly way he discussed the past he refused to broach frustrated her, telling her it wasn’t safe without saying why, warning her without trusting her judgment.

“He’s right, Liv,” Tessa jumped to his defense, her brows furrowing with concern. “You’ve got no idea what’s on his file, but I do.”

“I think I’m quite capable of deciding what’s safe and not,” Liv argued, her grip tightening so hard around her mug she wouldn’t be surprised if it shattered. “And just because you’ve got access to someone’s personal details doesn’t mean you should dive right in. Folks deserve to share their secrets on their own accord.”

“Your judgment hasn’t always been sound,” Lex warned in a preachy big-brother tone. Tessa, who had been backing him, whipped his way, indignation written on her face.

Oh hell no.

Fury radiated through Liv in one fierce, sweeping torrent. Fury at what had happened to her in college, fury at the way people treated her once they found out, and fury, endless fury at the blame that infiltrated even from her closest friend.

“You’re going to shut the hell up, now, Lex,” she said, her voice simmering at a deadly, even tone. “You’ve been hovering ever since that incident happened, throwing jabs like if my judgment had been better, I might not have gotten raped. Do you realize how fucking demoralizing that is? Don’t you think I haven’t blamed myself a thousand times over what that asshole did? If you can’t manage to move past that and start trusting my decisions again, you’ll just hold back my progress. And I have no more use for that shit in my life.”

Rage flooded her from head to toe, the bliss of being with Z earlier today banished by the way her damaged past reared its ugly head even around those closest to her.

Lex stepped back as if she’d struck him, and at once, the harshness leeched out of his expression, those ice blue eyes melting.

Tessa gaped from where she sat at the kitchen counter, her grip tightening around the edge. “Liv, I’m sorry,” she murmured, her voice softening. Tessa opened her mouth as if to continue but shut it again a moment later. The aftermath of Liv’s outburst rang around the room, evident by the thick tension in the air and the awkward hesitation from Lex and Tessa. Whatever solid intentions they’d arrived with, both seemed to be reconsidering their manner of approach.

Liv flexed her jaw. To hell with this childish confrontation, and to hell with their judgments. She’d allowed the protectiveness until they smothered her, until she’d forgotten how to live. And yet every moment with Zane re-awakened her, like the slow unfurl of a flower in early spring.

“When you guys are prepared to treat me like a normal human being, we can talk,” she said frostily. “While I was planning on enjoying the rest of the night following a wonderful day, you two have fucked that up. If you don’t mind locking when you leave, I’m heading out.”

Liv turned on her heel, not waiting for either of them to respond as she marched for the door of her apartment. Cold rage radiated through her, the sort holding her heart in a vice and tightening her throat. Yet she refused to bow to any of the nonsense they wanted to spoonfeed her, and she wanted no part in their intervention.

Lex and Tessa cared. Deep down, she knew that. However, no matter who threw the blame, she refused to accept an ounce. Refused to let the fear of one bad thing shatter her. Liv poured some kibble into Percival’s bowl by the door before snagging her knapsack from where she’d let it slump to the floor. Silence radiated from her kitchen. Either they’d realized what asses they were being, or the two of them were pissed enough to not follow. She didn’t have the energy to handle them right now, didn’t have enough armor on to guard her tongue and keep from destroying those relationships.

Liv felt a complicated brew of anger, shame, and sadness broiling through her like a kettle ready to steam. She just wanted to feel normal. Just wanted to be in control for once, not fighting her family, friends, and even her own body.

Her footsteps echoed through the lonely corridor of her apartment, a familiar, choking walk. Her hand curled into a fist as she trudged past the wrinkles in the carpet and the overhead light that kept flickering. The memory of breaking down in this stale hall, of curling against the wall and sobbing until her ribs rattled, seared into her.

Even as she pounded down the stairs en route to her car, she didn’t question where she headed. One person made her feel safer than anything, and right now, he was the only one who didn’t treat her like she was damaged. Liv slipped into her Subaru, curled her hands around the steering wheel, and drove off.

10

Zane paced around his apartment, his living room growing smaller with every pass he made across the weathered wooden floorboards. Being around Liv Morozov earlier had been a salve to his battered soul, but now at his house, alone, the itch returned with an increasing pulse he couldn’t ignore.

The low murmur of voices on his TV screen followed by the rat-a-tat-tat of space battles courtesy of Battlestar Galactica. The show normally commanded his full attention, but on nights like this, regular distractions weren’t up to snuff. His chip weighed down his pocket, the one thing keeping him from bolting up the street to the liquor store before it closed. Liv’s presence calmed him, even if they just sat together quietly. However, here in the empty silence of his apartment, his urges multiplied like the shadows.

He continued his pacing, wearing a path into the pale wooden floorboards. As much as he wanted to burn off this energy with a run, he worried that the second he stepped outside his apartment he’d be running straight for a six-pack. Earlier today he’d agreed to be Liv’s boyfriend, and now here he stood in the same mess as always, a piece of shit whose impulses dominated him.

Liv deserved so much better than a guy who wrestled with these demons daily. She deserved someone who could give her a wide-open future, not an ex-con with a rap sheet and an eternal battle against the allure of alcohol. Yet when she flashed him that pristine smile and offered a softness past the sharp edges, he couldn’t turn her down. He might be a monster, but even someone as fucked up as he was couldn’t bear to break her heart.

A knock pounded on his door.

Zane snapped to attention, running his hand through his thick mane. He didn’t have close friends who’d be paying him any surprise visits, at least not anymore. When he’d started the path to recovery, he ousted all of his bar friends from his life. Which left two people. Either his sponsor had become psychic and able to sense his spirals, or the woman who’d dominated his thoughts as of late had shown up on his doorstep.

He made his way to the door, anticipation building at the idea of her on the other side. At the hope that maybe she’d felt the same loneliness—maybe she understood what so few did.

A second knock sounded right as he pulled his door open.

Liv stood in the canary yellow swing dress she’d worn earlier today, the one that made her pale skin glow and lit her sparkling blue eyes like a fucking ray of sunshine. Except the grim twist of her mouth and the anger now burning in those eyes spelled all sorts of bad news, stopping him cold.

“What’s wrong?” Worry swept through him, not helping the pulsing urge to drink his troubles away.

As her eyes locked with his, those blues melted. “Can I come in?” she asked, her voice quieter than her normal loud, brashness.

Zane guided her inside. “What happened?” he asked. Hand in hand, they headed towards his ratty couch where Battlestar Galactica still blared on the screen.

She lifted a brow. “Since when did you start watching sci-fi?” she asked. “You used to tease me so bad about my Farscape obsession.”

He couldn’t help his grin as he turned the TV off. “I might’ve been needling you for fun. Can’t help it babe. The way you got all indignant had me smitten back then.” Despite the easy way they chatted, an undercurrent of tension hung between them. Whatever brought her to his door had her riled up something fierce, and stirring an urge to smack the shit out of who or whatever caused the upset.

“I needed out of my house,” she admitted, her fingertips digging into her thighs. “I had a welcome party waiting for me when I got back, one who welcomed me right out the door.

“Oh?” he asked, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. The moment their skin touched, she relaxed.

Liv let out a sigh as she gave him a sideways glance. “If I tell you, promise you’re not going to flip your shit or pull some martyr act on me?”

Like the woman could read his mind. Zane lifted a hand to the air. “I solemnly swear to keep my mouth shut.” Whatever was going on with her right now, she needed someone to listen judgment-free.

“Lex and Tessa ganged up on me with their ‘concerns’ about us dating,” she started. Zane’s internal temperature took a nosedive, but he kept his expression blank. Fuck, talk about the one person he couldn’t face, had never been able to face after that night. Of course, Lex would want him to stay far away from his sister; he’d made his opinion crystal clear. As for Tessa, once he found out her best friend was a cop, he could guarantee the woman would be warning Liv away.

Liv’s eyes flashed as she met his gaze. “Don’t think for a heartbeat I’m going to listen to them.” The strength behind her words struck straight to the core of him, to the voice inside his head who agreed with Lex and Tessa—he was a monster, no good, and unworthy of even a fraction of Liv’s affections. He scratched at his forearms, unable to help himself at the sheer coating of self-loathing that settled over him.

“Don’t know,” he said, unable to keep the bitterness out of his voice. “I think most folks would agree tangling with an ex-con alcoholic can only end in flames.”

“Well then, those folks are judgmental assholes,” Liv spat. “You’re more than a fucking label, Z. You’re an amazing chef, a mediocre bassist, and you’ve got this dorky way of scratching the back of your head whenever you talk about anything personal, which isn’t often, but holy hell is it cute. I know you way better than any of those folks casting stones do, and I adore everything you are, Zane Parata.”

She may as well have cold-cocked him. His grip on the couch tightened at the fury in her voice, at the strength of her convictions. Liv was willing to go to war beside him, to go into the trenches and fight with him against those demons, and hell on earth if that didn’t mean everything.

She sat in front of him, her blue eyes flashing, her manicured brows furrowed, and those scarlet lips simmering—she’d never been more beautiful. As the silence between them spread, some of her anger dimmed, and a flash of hesitation crossed her features. Zane reached out to squeeze her hand, realizing his lack of response had brought about the awkward silence.

“I never forgot you,” he confessed, the words spilling out before he could rein them back in. “When they hauled me away to prison, during my time in the joint, and even after—memories of you were the one bright spot in my shit life. I never dreamed in a thousand years we’d reconnect or that we’d get a second chance. But Liv, I need you to know, the way I feel for you is unparalleled. I’ve never experienced a depth of connection so profound before, and I doubt I ever will again.”

Her grip tightened around his, and their eyes locked, intentions clear in the air between them. This wasn’t a confused or distant silence, but one loaded with the storm of emotions that had become their currency.

They stood upon a precipice, ready to dive deeper. Zane’s muscles stretched taut, his breath came faster, and the itch returned under his skin—but this time it was a desire for her that had percolated from the second they locked eyes in Cupid’s Café and not the desperate need for the bottle.

He leaned forward, gently taking her face in his hands as he lowered his lips to hers. Each motion was slow and deliberate. He kept his eyes on hers and saw his own wants and needs reflected back at him.

The moment their lips brushed against each other, he ignited like a lit match tossed to gasoline. The passion and fury he’d been restraining unleashed. She moaned against his mouth, the sound traveling straight south to rev his engines. He brought one hand down to grip her waist tight, those curves of hers making him grow harder.

Her fingers curled into his hair, her possessive tug making him want to mount her right then and there. With the ferocious brew of longing, he knew he couldn’t handle another night of blue balls. His fingers bunched the flimsy fabric of her dress, the heat from her body making him crave the inferno they could create.

He kissed her again, and again, tasting her lips still swollen from their tangle earlier the night sharpening those desires, giving them a pulsing drive neither of them could ignore any longer.

Liv pulled back, causing his chest to strain with disappointment. Her lipstick was smudged, and her tongue traveled across her upper lip as her eyes gleamed with molten desire. “Z, I want you. Tonight.”

He arched a brow, despite the way his erection throbbed at her words, at the lust coursing through his veins with every breath. She jutted her chin forward with a ferocious stubbornness coming to fore, no words necessary. He knew better than to try and stifle those flames, and he welcomed the burn, welcomed the blaze until it devoured him whole.

He ran a thumb across her lip, enjoying the way she shivered under his touch. Even though the worry of her freezing up and lashing out again surged, tonight, they were ready to take the risk. Tonight, she wouldn’t race out his door in a panic. Whatever happened, they’d push through together.

“God, you’re fucking gorgeous, Livs,” he whispered against her mouth. She licked her lips, the shared breath between them one spark away from explosion. He drank in the sight of her, the freckles sprinkled along her nose, her stubborn chin, and those too-expressive eyes that kept her from hiding her feelings.

She leaned forward to press those perfect lips against his, igniting his desire. The taste of her mouth couldn’t sate him—he wanted to lick and suck every inch of her creamy skin. But he wasn’t about to repeat his mistakes of the last time they’d tangled together. He knew her wrists were off limits, after the way she reacted last time. And every step of this, he wanted to let her take control, because after the hell she’d been through, she needed it.

“As much as I want to fuck you right here on my couch,” he murmured, “I can think of more inventive ways to take you on my bed.”

She bit his lower lip, the territorial claim traveling straight to his cock. Not wasting a moment more, Zane wrapped his arms around her waist and hoisted the both of them up from the couch. She let out a loud squeak as they rose, her eyes dancing with amusement while she twined her legs around his hips. He was used to lifting weights far heavier than her, and he carried her with ease to the bedroom.

The feel of her lithe body pressed against his, her fevered breaths rising in anticipation, and how the gleam in those alluring eyes of hers sent him into sensory overload. He nudged open the door to his bedroom, dipping down to brush his lips against hers, desperate for the honeyed taste.

The dim lamp on his dresser spilled amber beams by his bed. He crashed them down against his rumpled sheets in a tangle of limbs. A bright laugh burst from her lips at the sudden movement, and he silenced her with another kiss to her mouth. The insistent pulse of his erection made him want to drive into her over and over and over again, but he didn’t want to scare her away again. He wanted to watch her melt, wanted the wariness that shadowed her movements banished from this room.

Rather than heading for her mouth again, he prowled downward.

Zane pressed a kiss between her collarbone and lower, trailing down the front of her. He watched her reactions as he moved, enjoying the way she arched under his every touch. His erection felt heavy between his legs while he continued his descent, his lips scraping against the cotton of her dress. Her skirt, rumpled and half kicked-up, exposed the creamy thighs he wanted to sink his teeth into.

He skated his hand along her thigh before he moved off the bed, watching as her lashes fluttered from the touch. Gripping her hips, he tugged her to the edge, and hunger gleamed in her eyes. His mouth watered as the movement shifted the fabric of her dress higher up those gorgeous legs. His fingertips slid under the lacy elastic waistband of her panties, and she arched her hips up in response.

“I want to taste you so badly,” he murmured as he settled between her thighs. Her legs tensed at his words, and he hesitated for a moment, unsure.

“Please, Z,” she moaned, urging him onward. Her plea traveled straight to his cock, galvanizing him to action. He pressed his lips against the inside of her thigh, enjoying her enthusiastic response and continuing up as he licked and sucked the tender skin. She trembled in anticipation, her hands balling into fists at her side, and her loud cries encouraged him further. He slipped the panties from her in one quick sweep, revealing her drenched pussy. His tongue slid across his lips as he salivated at the sight.

Zane angled himself in front of her and dipped forward, the tip of his tongue gliding ever so slightly against her pink clit. Her hips bucked at the motion, and he couldn’t resist a grin as he descended again, this time devouring her. She moaned, her thighs tensing around him as he flicked his tongue against her clit over and over. Her fingertips dug into the sheets. He slipped his tongue inside her and began fucking her with his mouth.

Liv froze at first, and Zane almost pulled away, but a second later she relaxed against him as he thrust his tongue to a quicker rhythm. Her moans pierced the air, banishing the shadows, filling the silence, and turning him on more than ever. He leaned back, returning to her clit again, and he stroked his tongue up and down, faster and faster, as she writhed beneath him.

Her heels dug into the mattress, her hips tilting forward as she bucked against him, desperate to come. Zane didn’t retreat, didn’t relent, wanting to push her over the edge, dying to see her release.

“Oh god, Z,” she screamed out, hips bucking forward, and thrust her pussy in his face. Her thighs clenched around him as she came, her whole body tightening for a moment until she released like a wet rag. Liv sank into the bed, the skirt of her dress hiked up, a flush on her cheeks and her lowered lashes hooded with desire.

“Holy hell,” she murmured. “Where did you pick up those sorts of skills?”

He couldn’t help but smile. “Without alcohol, I had to find other ways to fill my time. You like?”

She wrinkled her nose, nudging his shoulder with her toes. “You’re ridiculous.”

He prowled up the bed to lean beside her, inches away. She cast a lazy, satisfied glance to him, all the tension and rage from earlier vanished. Since they’d reconnected, he hadn’t seen her so loose-limbed and easy. Zane brushed a couple of teal curls off her face, swiping his thumb over her swollen lips.

“Ready to come for me again?” he murmured in her ear, causing her to shiver. Liv looked at him, her blue eyes full of the care and concern he’d longed for on too many nights, even if he didn’t deserve a second of that tenderness.

She pushed herself up from the bed, her expression lighting as she dipped down to brush her lips against his. “Only if you’re inside me.”

11

Liv licked her lips at the notion of stripping Zane down. She hovered over him, too aware of the outline of his erection along his pants. Her whole body flushed at the thought of having that length inside her, of crossing that step with the one man she’d always longed for. Her palms pressed into the wrinkled sheets on his bed, and she savored the scent of sweat, of sage and smokes, of him.

He stared at her with this yearning that made her feel like she wasn’t alone. Zane always looked at her with wonder in his eyes, despite the wicked curve of his eyebrows and the sinful curl of his lips. All his time at the gym earned him the sort of toned muscles she wanted to run her fingers across, and she was dying to sink her teeth into his bronzed skin. Her body had turned to jelly after the way he’d made her come, but as she leaned over top of him with a mere inch separating their bodies, desire flared through her once more.

She dipped down and sank her teeth into the side of his neck. The puff of hot air by her ear in response and the way he slid his hands around her hips gave her the nudge to keep exploring, licking and sucking her way to his collarbone. Liv latched onto his tee and tugged upward. Zane shrugged the shirt off, revealing delicious abs that made her salivate. She raked her fingernails down the front of them, appreciating the way his hips tilted forward with the motion.

Through every move she made, his eyes never left her. The soft amber light from the lamp enhanced the proud curve of his nose, and those sensual lips she loved to kiss. His mane of dark hair tumbled around his face in wild waves, making her want to run her fingers through it. Liv began to inch his zipper down, her core pulsing with an intense longing for him to fill her to completion. His fingers curled around the knot keeping her halter dress up.

“Fair play, beautiful,” he murmured as he undid the knot in one swift motion. The straps fell, and the whole front of her dress tumbled down, exposing her breasts. Her nipples pebbled as they hit the air, tightening so hard they hurt. Zane’s hungry gaze swept over her. She shimmied out of her dress, kicking it to the floor, while he shucked his jeans off. Her body prickled with awareness as she slid over him, the delicious feeling of skin against skin making her delirious.

The tendons of Zane’s neck protruded, and the grip around her hips kept tightening. Even though the Zane she knew was the kind of guy who’d be straining at the seams to take charge right now, he didn’t push. After the way things ended on their first try, he was giving her control when it counted most. If she adored him before, this made her fall even harder for him.

She took in a shaky breath, summoning the courage to try again. Last time, she’d wanted to surrender herself in the feelings threatening to consume her. Here and now, she wanted to remember every second of this. Zane Parata imprinted on her in a way she’d never forget, no matter what their future held. He’d offered her hope, strength, and a reason to fight once more.

Her core throbbed with need for him, her folds drenched. The way his silken cock slid against the inside of her thigh drove her crazy with desire. His hands glided across her skin as he caressed her breasts, her waist, until those heavy palms rested on her hips like they belonged there. Liv pressed a kiss on his lips, the tips of her nipples skating against the smooth surface of his abs, the slight touch traveling straight to her core.

The heat between them turned molten, the air tensing as she pressed against him harder, a moan slipping from her. Zane trailed a fingertip along the shell of her ear, even the slight motion jolting her with a lust she couldn’t deny any longer.

Their eyes met, and he tilted his head to give her the go ahead, those dark eyes burning with intensity. Liv bit her lip, the slightest bit of nerves running through her…God, she didn’t want to fuck this up. But his hands never left her skin, bolstering her confidence, and she realized that with Zane, there was no fucking up, no performance goal. He wanted this with her, and he had proven he would take her however she was, damage and all.

Her heart squeezed tight as she gripped his shoulders, the heels of her palms digging into his defined chest.

“I’m just going to sit back and watch the show,” Zane murmured, a grin on his lips. “Let you do all the work.” She shot him a glare even though her heart skipped with lightness at the way he tried to assuage her own tension, at how even now he tried to ease her through this.

“Oh yeah?” she shot back, “let’s see how much you can take.” Bolstered by the gleam in his eyes, her fingers curled into the sheets above his shoulders as she poised herself over the head of his cock. The sight of his stark erection made her ache with the urge to be filled by him.

Liv lowered herself on the head of his cock, holding there despite the way her pussy clenched. His thighs tensed beneath her, and his fingertips sank into her skin with a delicious bite, but a playful smile appeared.

“That’s good enough, right?” she teased. “I think I’m all done for tonight.”

A growl slipped past him as he bucked his hips up to inch in further. She let out a gasp of delight at the thick length of him pushing into her. With a wicked smile on her face, Liv lifted her hips, edging away. Zane’s gaze sparked. He thrust inside her further, inch by inch filling her. She sank onto his cock, reveling in the fullness of him, in the way he pierced through the aching need inside her until she took him to the hilt.

The moment he filled her, she clenched tight around him. Their eyes locked. She trusted him more than anyone on the planet right now, and he’d earned it every step of the way. For once, her body wasn’t locking up, her heart wasn’t racing in fear, and the adrenaline urging her to run hadn’t emerged. She remained present, aware of the connection between them for the first time in too long.

He tilted his hips up to rock her forward, and her fingers curled into the sheets as she surged with him. Together, they swayed in an inexorable dance she didn’t want to end. The way he moved inside her sent sparks to her fingertips, the back and forth swing making her moan. The delicious friction of his hard-as-steel cock pushing against her walls stoked her flames as she submitted to the undulating rhythm between them. To how she’d connected in entirety to a man who meant the world to her.

Liv had felt broken for so long, shattered to pieces, but as Zane filled her, as he thrust up and she sank on top of him over and over, she could feel those pieces gluing together again. The trust and the tenderness he shared with her while they made love was the missing piece that had eluded her for so long. Every past relationship had ended in flames, every bad hookup sent her spiraling further, but this connection with Z, the one that time, trauma, and distance never severed, this allowed her to hope once more.

The pressure built inside her, their thrusts growing more frantic, more desperate. Close…she was so close to coming again. Based on the way sweat beaded his brow, how droplets prickled along those corded forearms and his powerful thighs, he was close, too. She bent to brush her lips against his, her breasts pressing against his chest. His hands slid down as he gripped her ass so tight his fingertips dug into her cheeks. The guttural moan from him stirred her desire and awakened her senses.

His cock kicked inside her as he came, spurring her own release as her pussy tightened around him again and again. She panted as she rode out the bliss, the radiant adrenaline coursing through her body; even her mind blanked for one powerful moment. Liv’s shoulders heaved up and down before she collapsed against him, their sweat-slicked limbs mingling in the wake of their orgasms.

Her ear pressed against his chest, the wild thump-thump of his heart a melody that entranced her. She lay on top of him as his hands settled on the small of her back, making her feel safer than she had in years. For once, she was feeling a wholeness she didn’t dare shatter.

“Well that was a long time coming,” he murmured, his low voice rumbling through her. Overwhelming tenderness squeezed her chest tight, and for a moment, she didn’t respond, just rested against him in the silence.

“Too long,” she mumbled against his chest. “Let’s not put ourselves through that hell again.” He squeezed her tight in response as she surrendered to the comfort of his heat and the scent of sage and sweat that wrapped around her like a blanket.

The sound of their hearts pounding, of their ragged breaths, swept over her like a lullaby, bringing peace in its wake. Eventually, she rolled off of him to lie at his side, propping her head up with her elbow. Within seconds he tugged her back to him, and she curled into his arms once again.

“Stay with me?” he asked. Despite the casual tone in his voice, she caught the edge there, the question driving into a desperate part of her that understood his loneliness all too well. Liv buried her face into his chest while his hands traveled along her back in a gentle stroke. After spending a lifetime searching for this connection, for him, no way in hell would she let him go.

“Always.”

12

Zane couldn’t figure if it was due to the funeral suit he wore, the only formal attire he owned, or the familiar faces he’d be seeing at the wedding today that turned his stomach to knots. Already, sweat beaded along his skin, the suit jacket causing the heat to intensify while he walked along the city streets to the venue. More than a couple of glances slipped his way, most of them female, giving him body scans. He flashed a polite smile their way but picked up the pace to Graystone Hall.

Despite the skyscrapers cutting their mark on the city and drenching the area in shadow, Graystone Hall stood out from unique construction alone. Looking up at the distinguished old building with its looming columns, an arced window spanning over half the length, an intricate web of copper lattice separating the glass down the middle, he slipped his hand into his pocket to pinch his chip. Liv would be working this wedding, her car packed with equipment, so she needed to come separately.

Why the hell he’d agreed to go was beyond him. This seemed like a recipe for disaster.

In the front parking lot, he caught sight of a familiar figure, her teal hair glowing under the light and her pale-yellow cap-sleeve swing dress hugging curves he wanted to sink his teeth into. When she caught sight of him, a huge smile broke out on her face, making her eyes sparkle. Ah yeah—that was the reason he showed, because he’d do anything to see that look on her face. Even if he had to plunge into awkward, forced conversation with a bunch of unknowns and a couple of surly assholes who wouldn’t appreciate him being there.

She slunk up to him as he reached the parking lot, her white kitten heels clicking on the pavement. Hell, if he didn’t want to strip the dress off her here and now and get those long legs, heels included, wrapped around him. Once he got her home after this wedding, he knew what they’d be doing—the same bedroom tango they’d been doing the past few days.

The shadow from the tall, elegant building fell over him, cooling things down. The refurbished bank displayed formidable stone arches and carved columns that traveled the whole length. Amber lights spilled out the whole span of windows lined in black. Already, the day waned, the afternoon sun hazy as the rays sharpened the shadows along the pavement.

“How’d the ceremony go?” he asked once he got close enough. Her eyes roved over him, but unlike the once-overs he’d received on the way over, the predatory hunger in her gaze ignited his lust like nothing else. She breached the distance between them, twining her arms around his neck. He claimed those scarlet lips, enjoying the sweet taste as his arms wrapped around her waist, and he pulled her tightly to his body. The way she ground against him lit his senses, and the urge to mount her against the nearest car washed over him in a fierce way.

She licked her lips as they pulled away. “You should wear a suit more often.”

He grinned. “If I get this kind of greeting, sounds like a plan.”

Despite all the time they’d been spending together between jobs, he still somehow made all his meetings, something his sponsor had warned him about when he started dating Liv for real. It helped that the girl was driven and passionate about her photography, so she could entertain herself. On top of everything, she pushed him to go to his meetings even when he dragged his heels, understanding they needed to be a priority for him. The woman was one in a million.

A limousine pulled in front of Graystone Hall, and the bridal party came tumbling out like clowns from a car. The bride wore the sort of cupcake monstrosity he’d seen a thousand times before, all tulle and fluffed skirts, while the groom and his cavalry donned simple black tuxes. The bridesmaids shuffled out in rose-pink dresses, the usual bland nonsense that didn’t seem to fit a single girl right. None of the dolled-up women captured his eye like Liv did.

She leaned up to peck him on the lips. “Got to snap a couple shots in front of the building. Thank you a thousand times over for coming with me.”

He slipped his hands into his pockets and leaned against her car, the sun causing the hunter green paint to sparkle. Liv went off to chat with the bride, and within minutes, had her tripod set up while the bridal party began to assemble in front of the building. Graystone Hall’s pale stone contrasted with the glow of the copper lattice. Its elegance fit all the folks in their wedding finery who would be pouring through those copper-lined doors shortly.

He watched as Liv directed the bridal party into various poses, and the women’s dresses rustled and the men’s dress shoes clapped the pavement as everyone followed orders as quickly as possible. An easy confidence emanated from her, the sort bred from familiarity. It was the same way he navigated his kitchen at the restaurant, so he understood the feeling. Her passion for photography had grown along with her knowledge and skills, giving her a strength and assurance that made her glow.

Laughter erupted from the group as they broke into goofy poses, getting loose and natural after the staged shots. Zane couldn’t keep his eyes off Liv, her eyes alight with the joy of her work. How they’d ever survived without each other mystified him, because every moment they spent together cemented how natural their communication flowed. She understood him better than anyone else ever had.

It was not like they didn’t have their share of secrets. Both of them kept their roughest memories close to the cuff. Zane hoped to extend their time as long as possible before the inevitable truth of the night Lex ditched him for good came to light. She would recognize him for the monster he was, and she would walk. His throat tightened, and he honed his focus on the photo shoot. The itch crawled in with his self-loathing, and he knew the open bar would be hell tonight.

After several minutes of snapping shots, more cars began to pull into the lot, and older guests wearing sequined dresses and pressed tuxes stepped out to make their way towards the building. Liv shooed off the bridal party with a wink. Zane came up beside her to lift her tripod, helping her with the myriad of light stands and reflectors.

“We can enjoy cocktail hour,” Liv said as they carried her setup towards the building. “Then when the entrances hit, I’ll be back on duty to get the main shots until the special dances. We’re at an offshoot table with some random cousins, so no worries about having to deal with flashes from the past.” He followed her with the tripod and an assortment of packed bags she slipped around his shoulder.

“You normally take care of this all yourself?” he asked, shifting the surprisingly heavy bag. The blast of air conditioning buffeted him with a chill upon entrance. As they stepped inside, the dangling crystal chandelier and diagonal marble flooring whispered wealth. A large bloom of pink-petaled lilies burst from a gigantic copper vase set in the center of the room as a focal point.

He resisted the shudder threatening to roll through him. A guy like him didn’t belong in a fancy place like this.

Liv elbowed him in the side as they walked along. “Wedding gigs aren’t my favorite scene either, too frou-frou for my tastes. Let’s enjoy the free food while we have the chance.”

Warmth flooded his chest at the way the woman tuned into his wavelength at any given time. She observed with that sparrow-like curiosity when most others would ignore or walk away.

Up ahead, paper lanterns glowed from the ceilings across the side room. Long tables covered in crisp white tablecloths, ornate copper candlesticks, and trumpets of pink lilies in crystal vases spanned the length. Plates of traditional appetizers nestled on each one, slices of Gouda, diced cucumbers, finger-sized crab cakes and cordon bleu balls, the colorful displays stretching all the way to the bar on the opposite side of the room. Zane stared down the dozens of glass bottles nestled behind the hardwood counter, swallowing hard.

A string quartet had begun playing in the far corner with muted spotlights illuminating them as sweet strains poured through the cocktail room. Guests began pouring through the doors. An older couple in their seventies stepped inside, the glint of the silver watches and gold rings on their fingers catching the light. A younger couple trailed in behind them, the pinched way they observed the room marking them off as unapproachable. Liv led him in the direction of the glass door to the far right, and together they stepped into the ballroom.

Globe lights cast their magic on the vast room, the silvery glow splayed across the dark-stained hardwood floors. Circular tables with lit candles and maroon tablecloths covered half the floor while the other part remained open for dancing. Liv strode to the corner to set her reflectors and light stand down, and Zane followed with the bags and tripod.

“Promise me a dance later?” Liv asked when she finished moving her assortment of equipment to the corner.

Zane trailed his fingertips along her chin, drawing her attention to him. “Of course, babe. I assumed that would come with wedding guest duty.”

Liv rolled her eyes. “You wouldn’t believe how many guys put up a hissy fit about ‘not looking cool’ because they’re not good at dancing. I always forget you don’t give a shit about stuff like that.”

Zane snorted. Compared to his daily battles with alcohol and the derision he dealt with from his past record, something like not being able to dance ranked among ‘who gives a fuck.’ He slipped his hand in hers and tugged her into a twirl. She followed with ease, the skirt of her dress flaring out and rippling back down as she came around to face him again. She ended up pressed against him even closer, her slim body pure temptation. Zane dipped down to claim her mouth, and Liv melted against him in a way that made him lose his mind.

“You’re bad,” she murmured against his lips. “All I can think about is finding somewhere private and ditching these clothes.” Liv pulled away from him, smoothing her skirts while an impish grin played on her face. Despite the way his heart accelerated and his libido flared to life, he knew better than to push. Despite this being her cousin’s wedding, she attended in a professional capacity, and he wouldn’t risk her reputation.

“Care to join me in grabbing as many crab cakes as I can cram in my mouth?” she asked, extending her arm. He slipped his own through hers, and together they walked in time. Liv cast a glance up, those blue eyes snaring him. “Don’t worry,” she lowered her voice. “I’m making sure we steer clear of the bar.”

“My God, woman. Could you be any more perfect?” he said, shaking his head. If the pull was too strong today, he didn’t question that she would understand him sitting this one out. He didn’t deserve someone like her, and yet for some reason she always softened around him in a way she didn’t with anyone else. He’d seen the tough front she put on around friends and how she fought with her brother to be taken seriously.

“Careful, feeding the ego could have dangerous results.” Liv winked as they strolled into the cocktail room where a crowd had begun to gather, most fighting their way to the beautifully displayed hors d’oeuvres.

“Lucky for you I like a little risk,” he shot back as they made their way to the nearest table where a platter of those golden-crumbed crab cakes awaited. Even though this night wouldn’t be easy he had the most beautiful woman in the room on his arm and a bounty of quality food to sample.

The strains of the violin echoed through the room combined with a cavalcade of heels as guests filtered in through those now-opened doors. Liv took her declaration of conquering the cocktail table seriously, loading a plate full of crab cakes, cheeses, and a dozen different puff pastry concoctions.

He scanned over the arrangement with a familiarity of all the garnishes, practiced presentation, and the knowledge that what guests thought were hand-crafted were in fact reheated packaged frozen food. Not like he minded that sort of thing, but contrary to common belief, high prices didn’t always correlate with quality food. Hell, half of the best meals he’d found around Louisville came from the food trucks he hoped to join the ranks of some day.

One of the women in the pink bridesmaid dresses shuffled over in their direction, and Zane tugged on Liv’s arm to get her attention. She was mid-chew on a mouthful of a Frankenstein-mash of at least four of the different puff pastry creations when she turned to face the bridesmaid. Liv nodded and held her finger up in a gesture to wait as she swallowed. Zane’s lips pressed together tightly as he tried and failed to hide his smirk.

“Some family members want shots real quick,” the bridesmaid explained, her hands jumping on instinct to smooth her blonde curls. “Do you mind?”

“Not a problem,” she said, “I’ll be right there.” Liv glanced to Zane, the apology evident in her eyes. “I know, I know, I’m the worst wedding date on the planet. I won’t be offended if you need to cut a quick retreat.”

Zane forced a smile even though his stomach dropped at the thought of her darting off again. Not like he couldn’t hold his own among strangers, but these were her strangers, and the idea of facing Liv’s family again twisted his stomach to knots. “I’ll be here,” he said, tipping his fingers in a salute.

She bit her lip but nodded as her professional mask settled into place and she darted off after the bridesmaid to get back to work, leaving him isolated in a sea of strangers. Zane clutched his small plate like a life raft as he wandered closer to the entrance, as far away from the bar as possible. No one would know if he snagged a drink right now, and the thought combined with the pressure of this situation threatened his resolve. Attending had been a bad move. He hissed out a low breath as he leaned against the wall, looking up to the polished ceiling that reflected the hazy glow of the chandeliers.

He scanned over the crowds filtering in through the glass doors, most of them separating into groups the moment they spotted another relative or old friend in the crowd. He chased an olive around his plate before biting into the salty Kalamata in an effort to distract himself from the steady pulse that would soon grow into a roar. Liv had already given him the go-ahead to leave, but he wanted to stay. For once he wanted to be a normal date, not inundated with his own issues. He wanted to be someone she deserved.

Zane looked to the entrance again, not sure what he searched for, since the only familiar face he would see at this wedding would be Liv’s.

Until one person he believed he’d never see again strode to the door.

Those ice blue eyes were so similar to Liv’s, and even with the buzz cut and the way he had packed on muscle Zane would recognize Lex Morozov anywhere.

Fuck.

Before Zane could cut a hasty retreat to the bathroom, the ballroom, anywhere out of sight, Lex’s eyes flashed in recognition. Zane’s hand balled into a fist, and the urge to drink pounded into him something fierce. He clenched his jaw—nothing to do but confront this here and now.

“Parata, what are you doing at a fancy shindig like this?” Lex called upon approach, his voice seemingly amenable—at least to anyone who didn’t know him well enough. Zane caught the icy edge in his tone and the razor sharpness in his stare. Out-and-out bolting wouldn’t work, and besides, if he planned on continuing to date Liv, this confrontation would happen sooner or later.

“Got roped into coming. You know your sister’s damn persuasive,” he responded, keeping his tone even and his face calm despite the stirrings of a storm that rose inside his chest.

Lex leaned against the wall beside him. “We both know you don’t belong here,” he said with a pointed sharpness that stung. Hell, Lex didn’t need to tell him. He’d already felt as isolated as possible in this crowd. “There’s no way in hell I’ll let you keep dating my sister.” He kept his voice low, but fire blazed in those eyes.

“Don’t think that’s up to you, buddy,” Zane responded, annoyance beginning to sizzle his nerves.

Lex faced him, arms crossed. “Her life was destroyed by one monster. I won’t let that happen again.”

The word drove through him like a dagger to the heart. Even though he kept his face blank, inside, his defenses began to crumble. Every argument he’d made for staying in this relationship, every blink of hope and warmth around her, every time he allowed himself to open his heart and care again—all of that got swallowed in a vacuum threatening to consume him. Monster. The darkness threatened to devour him, tendrils wrapping around his body, plunging inside until he choked on it. His stomach dropped, and he swallowed, hard.

“I was there, Z,” Lex whispered, unrelenting. “I saw the blood on your hands. I watched you beat Jay until he wasn’t breathing anymore. You’re fucking lucky you’re not locked up for life.”

Those words. That face.

The memories he kept in his vault unleashed, and not a soul in the world could save Zane from getting tugged under.

13

Even though Liv got the job done, the insistent need to return to Zane’s side pounded through her. Despite the casual way he’d agreed, she knew she had tossed him into shark-infested waters with life raft. She’d cast a glance into the cocktail room, ready to track him down again, but the second she stepped inside, the bride tugged at the leash, calling her over again because they were about to make their entrance. Liv bit back her sigh and followed them into the ballroom, the dappled lighting cascading over her skin like leopard print.

The guests filed in through the now-opened doors from the cocktail area, and Liv scanned the doors, searching for the gorgeous-as-sin guy she’d arrived with. The band picked up the strains, signaling the impending bridal party’s arrival. Still, she couldn’t help the sinking feeling in her chest and the tug in her gut that told her something was wrong. Back there, his gaze kept drifting to the bar, and she’d caught a slight undercurrent of unease from him despite the easy smiles he flashed.

Her gaze glued to the table they were supposed to sit at even while she crouched behind her tripod waiting for the bride to descend. The clicks of heels and dress shoes sounded all around her while guests crossed the hardwood floors to their tables. Everyone else had taken their seats at this point, but Zane’s remained empty.

Liv swallowed. Maybe he’d taken the out she gave him and gone home. She hoped he’d done that over the alternative. Anxiety percolated through her, but she couldn’t leave her post. The punchy wedding music drew everyone’s attention to the doors on the opposite side of the room as the first pair of the bridal party began dancing in, waving their arms in the air to the beat of the music. Despite the energy and happiness surrounding her, Liv’s insides plummeted to Arctic temps.

She snapped on automatic, her years of experience coming to the fore as she cast glances to the screen all while the empty seat mocked her from a distance. The overhead balls glowed, providing perfect lighting and a wonderful contrast to the shadows coating the exterior of this room. A cheer roared from the onlookers as the bride and groom stepped into view, sauntering down the walkway in a parade of tulle. Her skin prickled with all the foreboding she felt.

The band began to play a different song, the usual father-daughter and mother-son dances began, and she continued clicking away, trying to ignore the beast of concern clawing at her chest. The way her insides squeezed. Announcements kept on rolling, followed by tears as the maid of honor clutched the microphone tight and blurred her mascara with some sappy sentimental speech, but Liv barely paid any attention. She couldn’t quell the bad feeling eating her bones, one that grew with every passing second she didn’t see Zane in his seat, that she hadn’t gotten a text on her phone.

As the dances wound down, she began prowling around the perimeter of the room snapping shots of all the happy guests, of their melodious laughter, and of the picture-perfect food they demolished.

Her finger paused on the shutter as she approached the table with her parents.

Lex wasn’t supposed to be here.

Nausea swept through her like the flu, and she stepped in front of the table, forcing a smile. “Look this way,” she directed her family even as her heartbeat thudded so loud it pulsed in her ears. If she searched for the reason Zane disappeared, she didn’t need to go any further than her overprotective big brother. She didn’t know what poison Lex had told Zane, but with the vicious grudge he still bore, nothing he said could be good.

Her brother’s knowing gaze fixed on her, turning her stomach. “Whole family’s reunited,” he said while her mom waggled her fingers for the camera and flashed a crooked smile.

“Takes a wedding to do it.” Her dad shook his head as he sipped at his beer, even though a grin lingered on his face. “You know, normal families do Sunday dinners.”

Liv snorted despite her unease. “The only families that do Sunday dinners are the Cleavers, Dad. We’re a far reach from them. Lex, can I have a word?” she asked, fixing her laser stare onto her brother. He got up without question, the chair sliding with a squeak.

Even though she kept her camera up and fired a few more shots while they walked, Liv burned on the inside with a fury that radiated outward. Based on Lex’s tight lips, he sensed her rage too. They came to a halt on the far corner of the ballroom, well away from prying eyes and listening ears.

“Look, before you try and give me a tongue lashing, hear me out. You don’t know what fractured our friendship, or why Zane got sent to jail,” Lex jumped in before she could argue. “Our senior year, Zane started drinking real heavily. I know shit was rough for him on the home front, but he slammed the bottle and it would get ugly.”

“Yeah, he’s an alcoholic—tell me something I don’t know,” Liv interjected, venom in her voice.

Lex slashed the air in front of them, shaking his head. “Listen. We were hanging at the bar one night, right after graduation, me, Jay, and Zane. Jay was mouthing off, some shit about getting a little rough with his girl, and Zane loses it. He started whaling into him and wouldn’t stop—I’d never seen something so terrifying in my life. The man was possessed, pounding into the guy until I thought for sure he’d killed him. Jay’s got permanent damage due to that night, shit which will never heal.”

Liv clenched her jaw, arms crossed in front of her as the story sank in. Lex watched expectantly, like he waited for some shock or horror to cross her face where she magically turned her stance around to agree with him. Bull-fucking-shit. If that had been the deep dark secret Zane kept buried, she could handle the skeleton in his closet. In fact, her brother’s story only confirmed her willingness to fight for him.

“I knew Jay,” she said. “He was a piece of shit who beat his girlfriends. With Zane’s history, did you expect he wouldn’t go berserk at that sort of talk?”

“What are you talking about?” Lex asked, a line forming between his brows. The band began a new, faster song, and already the servers had begun to whisk the main courses away from the tables, finished or not. Disbelief bubbled up inside her, and she couldn’t help the sharp laugh that came from her throat.

“You’re telling me you ditched Zane when he needed you most, and you didn’t even know his whole history? Lex, I know you’re a stubborn ass sometimes, but I never took you for an idiot.” Liv didn’t bother hiding the sharpness in her tone, and Lex’s mouth pressed tight. “Zane’s father used to beat him and his mom, and I’m talkin’ real bad. If anything—anything—would send him over the edge it would be some asshole mouthing off about that. Besides, he’s been sober for a couple of years now and goes to AA meetings regularly.”

Lex sank against the wall, his gaze shifting to the floor in front of them. “Fuck, I never knew. I mean—I knew he’d lost his dad early and about their financial problems, but we didn’t get into the deep stuff often. I figured I’d let him keep his pride.”

Liv’s temper, which simmered this entire time, lashed out at last. Her brother had brandished all this hatred, hanging onto the grudge with a vengeance and never bothering to be a good enough friend to even find out the truth, to fight for him. Zane deserved better than that after everything he’d suffered, and how he still tried to persevere against the odds. Deep rage bloomed inside her.

“All that big talk about how you wanted to beat the shit out of the monster who raped me,” she hissed, “and yet you’re going to condemn Zane for not tolerating that same sort of shit from Jay? Abuse is abuse, Lex, whether it’s sexual or not,” she spat. Her brother paled, and horror ringed his eyes when he looked up at her. As if the hypocrisy of the grudge finally came crashing home.

“So now you’re going to tell me what the fuck you said to him.” Her voice remained low, seething. “Because he was already struggling with the open bar here, and my God, Lex, if you shoved his past in his face, if you pushed him over the edge, I won’t forgive you.”

Lex sucked in a sharp breath, running a hand over his near-shaved head. “Liv, I didn’t know—shit, I never even gave Jay’s bullshit a second thought…” he trailed off, not willing to finish the sentence as shame thickened his words. “He left during the cocktail hour.”

All this time had passed and he was out there hurting, suffering, and believing he was nothing more than trash.

Lex ran a hand over his buzzed hair before scrubbing his face with his palms. “Tell me what to do to make this right. I’m sorry, Livs.”

Liv’s chest burned, but as much as she wanted to deck her brother, the sight of him crumpled up so pitiful, horrified at what he’d done, stayed her hand. “I’m not the one you need to be apologizing to. When I find Zane, the two of you are going to have a chat. He’s the one you need to make things right with, not me.”

Lex bobbed his head in a nod, his hands balled into fists at his side. Liv clutched her camera for support, because the brew of emotions swirling in her had grown almost too much to bear. As the servers whisked the dishes away from the tables and guests flooded the dance floor, she lifted her camera to capture the smiles and joy she couldn’t be further from feeling. The motions turned automatic as she shut her brain off. Time passed by with agonizing slowness while her nerves mounted, the adrenaline pushing her to just go.

Zane needed to hold on, just a little while longer, because she was coming to find him.

The decision to wear heels, even shorter ones, was one she came to regret by the time she managed to make her escape. An after party still raged in the hotel bar and a lot of her extended family hadn’t left yet, but Liv had served her time and right now, finding Zane took precedence.

She pulled in front of his apartment with a screeching halt, praying he’d gone home and holed himself away. Based on the darkened windows above Slice of Heaven, the brief hope was about to get extinguished. She clattered up the aluminum steps to his place, her calves aching at the motion even as her mind urged her to go faster and faster. Once she twisted the doorknob, disappointment swept through her.

Locked.

Liv tried knocking, even though she didn’t believe he waited inside. Her stomach twisted as the realization of where he’d be hit her. The screen of her phone glowed against the shadows as she thumbed through a list of the nearest dive bars. She spotted his car on the opposite side of the street, and knew wherever he was it would be within walking distance.

Of course, this was Bardstown, where the dive bar reigned supreme.

However, if she were drowning in self-loathing and looking for a drink, she’d choose the rattiest, dirtiest bar on the block, one that was lucky to get two seats filled a night.

Liv knew just the place.

She’d spent a couple nights slumming in Hideaway when she wanted to be away from everyone else—when drinking alone in her apartment made things worse. Little did she know, Zane had lived mere blocks away the entire time. Liv set off on foot, even though her calves screamed and her feet ached. Her nails bit into her palms from balling her fists too tightly as she tried to keep from racing along the sidewalk to cross the short distance.

Tucked along a brick-covered side alley with a barely marked entrance and a flickering yellow overhead, Hideaway Bar remained a berth for those who’d hit rock bottom. Liv sucked in a sharp breath as she approached. She might not be an alcoholic, but she could understand the self-loathing that haunted his eyes too many days, and she’d experienced the dizzying loneliness and desolation, like every chance to breathe got smothered until she lost the will to fight.

She approached the wooden door, her fingers gliding against the grain before she rallied her nerves and pushed.

The scent of smoke and stale Miller Lite greeted her on her first steps inside, her soles sticking to the hardwood, her nose wrinkling at the faint scent of vomit. The glare of the flat screen reflected on empty wooden tables, and a bartender slouched behind the pine bar lining the right side.

Her gaze focused on the familiar form hunched over the bar, slumped into his stool like he belonged there. His suit jacket lay rumpled beside him, his tie undone, and his once-pressed button-down lay open to reveal his undershirt. His mane hung loose around his shoulders, and his glazed eyes stared at the bar in front of him, his grip tight around the near-empty pint glass in his hand. Liv began walking towards him when the bartender glanced to her and then over to Zane. “You here to pick him up? He’s been knocking shots back since he arrived.”

Liv gave him a brisk nod and approached the stool with caution. Zane looked up at her, squinting a couple of times before shaking his head as if to clear his vision. He reeked of alcohol, and the eight empty shot glasses lining the counter in front of him were telltale. She remembered when he used to drink in his final year of high school, how she used to steer clear of him on those benders. Though they usually involved her brother, the difference was that her brother drank for fun, while Zane drank because he wanted to die.

“Fuck,” he cursed as he focused on her. His fingertips curled into the splintered bar, taking off some slivers in the process. “Livs, get the hell out of here.” With the slight slur in his words, a casual onlooker wouldn’t think he was that far gone, but between the way he hunched and clutched onto anything near him and how his eyes kept going unfocused, she knew he was near the blackout point.

The sight broke her heart, because she understood better than anyone how in the sober light of day, Zane would hate himself for this. For lapsing in the constant effort he put in to stay away from the bottle. The near-daily meetings, the distractions, the distance from others—all that effort destroyed by one bad night. Feeling ballsy, she snagged a seat on the stool beside him. They had a hell of a lot to talk about, but those conversations were better saved for a time when both of them were in the right frame of mind.

“Can I get a water?” she asked the barkeep.

“Livs, you’re supposed to stay away from me,” Zane argued, his tone dark and his eyes filled with desperate aggression. But Liv wouldn’t back down, couldn’t walk away. “I can’t be the guy you need right now—if ever.”

She was tempted to argue but held her tongue. Arguing with a drunk bordered on lunacy. The bartender placed the glass of water in front of her, and she took a sip for herself before passing the rest to Zane. He might not welcome the help right now, but after the shit hand life dealt him he deserved someone in his corner.

Tonight, she’d fight for him.

“Drink,” she instructed in a calm tone as she handed the glass off. He opened his mouth to protest, but she fixed him with an unwavering stare. She watched the anger and aggression deflate, his emotions parading on Front Street; he had always been easy to read. A second later he swigged down the glass of water like it was another shot of bourbon.

“Let’s head back to your apartment. You can argue with me there,” she said, keeping her tone level, but firm. His brows furrowed, and he staggered up from his stool. She knew better than to offer him help, even though the urge to throw her arms around him, breathe in the scent of sage and smokes, and walk him to the door was so strong.

She tried not to look back when she reached the chipped door of the Hideaway, just took comfort in the thud of slow footsteps that meant he still followed her. Outside in the brisk night air, she heard the creak and groan of the door closing, and turned back to look at him.

“You coming? I’m sorta going to need you to unlock your place if I’m staying there tonight,” she said nonchalantly, trying to keep him from tipping too far in any direction. He ran a hand through his hair, his face filled with grief, like he’d lost his best friend. In a way, something had shattered for him tonight. The sobriety he’d worked so hard on, all those hours, days, minutes of dedication swept away in a single lapse.

However, Liv had learned a thing or two about putting pieces back together. She’d experienced how a single moment could shatter you, and still she had survived. She refused to let the past, their damage, or this break here and now keep them apart.

They neared the steps of his apartment, the midnight shadows seeping into the cracks and seams of the building. She latched tight to the railing, the cool metal pressing into her palm, the heavy thump of his boots hitting the aluminum stairs behind her providing a measure of comfort.

Zane stepped in front of her and fumbled with the key, trying and failing the first couple of times to jam it into the lock. Liv watched in silence behind folded arms as her nails bit into her arms. Right now, he probably mistook her quiet for judgment or disapproval, but they could clear up any misunderstandings later.

Finally, he managed to open the door and staggered inside. Liv slipped in quickly in case he changed his mind and tried to shut her out. Zane didn’t bother turning on any of the lights, just made a beeline for his couch. Without another word, he dropped onto the cushions and curled to his side. Liv crept forward, bumping her shins on an end table and colliding with a chair she missed as she tried to dodge around the stacks of books and the random piles of papers on his coffee table.

By the time Liv made her way over, his eyes were shut, those long lashes on full display, his face calm. His shoulders rose and fell with the steady rhythm of sleep. The relief that struck her almost brought her to her knees. Tears pricked her eyes, and she swallowed the sobs threatening to break. She had been so afraid since he had left the wedding, so destroyed by the shame and sadness in his eyes when she’d found him. Her limbs trembled with the effort to remain calm and strong.

She reached in his back pocket and pulled out his phone. This might have been a lapse, but she refused to allow tonight to turn into a full-blown descent into drinking again. His phone lock was a simple swipe, so within seconds she scrolled through his calls, searching for repetition. One name popped up over and over again. Liv sucked in a deep breath and pressed the call button.

A couple of rings sounded as she stood there in the dark her heart hammering in her chest.

“Hello?” a deep male’s voice came from the other end.

“Hey, I’m Zane’s girlfriend, Liv. He hit the bottle tonight, and I think he’s going to need your help.”

14

Zane hadn’t descended to this level of hell in years. Worse than the cottonmouth, the throbbing headache, and the aching limbs was the toxic shame and loathing that flooded him in a fierce torrent. He had royally fucked up last night. Not only had he broken his sobriety and thrown away countless hours of hard work, but Liv had showed up. She’d seen him in that miserable state, little more than a growling beast. Nausea swept over him. With a slow creak, he rose from the couch to find her, to apologize, and then to move three states away.

Instead of the teal-haired beauty who he vaguely remembered escorting him home last night, a grizzled, pock-marked war vet sat in his chair, awake and reading one beast of a book. He wore a pressed plaid shirt and a pair of khakis that fit too well, the man brimming with a refinement no one would expect if they knew his history.

“What the fuck are you doing here, Sampson?” he asked, his voice coming out thick from sleep and dehydration.

“Drink some water before you talk to me,” his sponsor said, pointing to the full glass on the coffee table in front of him. “You sound like shit.”

Zane slid up, wincing as his head pounded to a quicker tempo. His arm trembled a little bit as he lifted the glass, but he forced the liquid down his throat, even if the cold burned the whole way. He hung his head in front of him before making the slow, painstaking attempt to unbutton the once-nice shirt that after his bender would have to be retired. He doubted those stains would come out any time soon.

“She called me last night,” Sampson said, glancing up from his book. “You’ve got a good one there.”

“Had,” he said, glaring at his rug. Fuck, yesterday had been hell, from the moment Lex flung the past into his face to stumbling into Hideaway. The first shot of bourbon dosed him with such sweet relief, one he couldn’t forget no matter how much he tried. That was the relief he fought against every day sober, that first gulp with its siren’s allure. He rummaged in his pocket for his chip and tossed it in Sampson’s direction. “You’ll be wanting this back.”

Sampson placed his book on the coffee table over top of the couple of papers scattered across the surface. “You’ll just have to earn it again.”

“I’ve got nothing, man. Nothing to work for and nothing to live for. You might as well spend your time on someone worth a damn, someone with a chance at fighting this battle,” Zane murmured into his hands. His heart pounded in his chest. God, he was such a piece of shit. Couldn’t even handle a wedding with his girl—he bolted straight for the bottle and destroyed everything he’d worked towards in one quick sweep.

Monster. The word pulsed through him with the regularity of his urges, mocking his efforts at cleaning up his life. Mocking the stupid hope he might find happiness with Liv. Assholes like him didn’t deserve redemption. He swallowed, his throat tightening despite the water he poured down it.

“Your girl wanted me to pass along something,” Sampson said, drawing his attention. He reached into his pocket and handed over a couple pieces of paper. Zane reached over to grab them from Sampson, staring at the pictures. She’d printed out the photographs she’d taken of their picnic food. Liv made those dishes come alive and brought them to breathtaking color and clarity that made them leap off the page.

“She said your dream was worth fighting for, and that she’s going to be there to see it come true,” Sampson added, watching him with those too-knowing eyes. “Don’t know what the hell a bunch of pictures of food has to do with it, though.”

Zane sucked in a shaky breath, hoping his sponsor happened to look the other way while liquid pooled in his eyes. Not like he’d let the tears fall. Shit. She had infected him with the exact hope that clashed against the desolation claiming him now.

“And as for me walking away, tough luck, asshole. I didn’t invest this much time in you to ditch now.” Sampson watched him from where he leaned back into the chair. “There’s a meeting in a half hour, and we’re attending. If I gave up every time I had a lapse, I’d have been buried years back. You’ve got a bright future ahead of you despite the poison you preach to yourself.”

Zane raked a hand through his tangled hair, the tumult of emotions warring with the blistering hangover he fended off. An invisible slick of scum coated his skin in the wake of his bender. Every ounce of him wanted to crumple down and accept defeat. He’d fucked up, and he’d continue fucking up from here until eternity. However, the pictures of the food he’d created, at the warmth and beauty Liv portrayed those meals with—that stirred something he’d tried to trample and strangle out at every attempt. The hope of a future he longed for, one he’d almost tasted.

Facing everyone at AA with his recent failure ranked up there as the last thing he wanted to do—the mere thought of it soured his stomach. But sometimes all it took was the first step. To continue on, one step at a time, until minutes turned into days, and days turned into years. He’d vanished once out of Liv’s life with no explanation—he wouldn’t do that to her again. Even if she chose to leave afterwards, he’d give her his whole story.

“Let me change out of this shit and we’ll head out,” Zane responded, rising from the couch to lumber towards his room. Sampson didn’t look up from the book he’d diverted his attention to, but a nearly imperceptible smile lifted the corner of his lips.

The meeting had been grueling, to say the least. Zane expected as much. He lit his cigarette as he stalked towards his apartment and sucked down nicotine as fast as he could manage. Sampson had sat with him through the entire meeting, his steady presence keeping him connected. Even though memories of yesterday squeezed him dry and his head still throbbed with the remnants of his hangover, he managed to put one foot in front of the other. At the end of the day, that’s all he could do.

As he approached his apartment, a familiar figure sat on the bottom step, causing Zane to freeze. His hands balled into fists at his side, and anger mixed with the shame roared in at the sight of his former friend.

Lex stood, raising his hands in defense. “Hear me out, Z.” His voice was serious, hoarse even. “Please.”

Zane kept his composure by a thread, shaken from their encounter yesterday. He sucked in a deep breath. Another confrontation like the one before might decimate him, but the asshole stood right in front of the steps, blocking his way up.

“I wanted to apologize,” Lex said, looking at the ground as he scratched the back of his neck. Zane’s brows furrowed in confusion. Out of everything he’d expected, an apology wasn’t it. “Back then—that night…I didn’t know what you’d been through, and like the shit friend I was, I didn’t even try to get the whole story. You’d been suffering in silence while I paraded around calling you my best friend, acting like I knew you. I knew shit was bad for you at home, and I should’ve been there for you.”

Zane swallowed, hard. He never expected to see that shade of vulnerability on Lex, and his brain had turned into such mush at this point he could barely compute. The hardass had been quick to laugh with him but had bolted when he needed him the most—never the kind of guy to offer an apology. He opened his mouth, but all he managed was, “How did you find out?”

Lex fixed him with a look. “My sister. I tried to scare her away from you, told her the whole story about the night in the bar, and she fired back at your defense. She doesn’t give a damn about what landed you in jail, bro. Turns out, she understood you better than I ever did.”

Zane leaned against the brick wall, the stone scraping against his shirt. He sucked down another swig of nicotine from his cigarette, needing something to balance him. All day he’d been steeling himself to bare his soul, to reveal his ugliest secret to Liv, but last night when she’d arrived to take care of him she had already known—she’d known and came anyway.

“So, why are you here?” Zane asked, trying to figure out the man’s motivations. After the way Lex ripped into him last night, he had a hard time buying any change of heart. Bitterness like that didn’t just vanish.

Lex shook his head. “Thought that was pretty clear. I held onto a lot of anger over that night for far too long, and I’m done with that. Liv was right—I was being an asshole and a shitty friend. I don’t expect your friendship, but I couldn’t sleep at night if I didn’t at least try to set things straight. You fucked up and you did your time. At the end of the day, that’s all we can do.”

The declaration from his former friend socked him in the gut, something he had never expected to hear from Lex. With the way his nerves jittered at this point, even the smooth intake of nicotine didn’t help. Zane slid to a crouch, keeping his back pressed against the brick as he let out another steady stream of smoke, watching it rise up between them. He deserved Lex’s anger after the way he’d flown off the handle that night. During his time behind bars, he’d contemplated a thousand ways he could have dealt with the situation better.

Even though his years of heavy drinking blurred some memories, others he would carry with him for the rest of his life. Lex might not have been the kind of solid friend Liv was but he’d been a stable presence for Zane when so much had been chaos. That night, Lex had looked at him in sheer horror, and when Zane stared at his own bloodstained hands and the still body beneath him—he’d been sure he killed Jay —he lost what little steady ground he stood on. That day he’d never felt more like a monster—like the monster his own father had been.

“I don’t know how you can forgive me when I haven’t forgiven myself,” he murmured, staring at the asphalt beneath him. He sucked in the last drag of his cigarette, crushing the end under his boot. His heart pounded so loud it competed with the traffic, and the itch to find another bar or hit the liquor store up the street rose with every uncomfortable second he faced his demons.

Zane didn’t dare look at Lex—couldn’t stand judgment or pity right now when he wanted to drown these shitty feelings in an endless glass of bourbon. He could picture the disappointment lining Sampson’s face when he slipped again and again. His throat tightened. He didn’t even want to imagine how his lapses would devastate Liv over time. How he’d destroy her life as sure as he’d ruined his own.

Lex came over to sit beside him, even though the proud motherfucker couldn’t meet Zane’s eyes. The close proximity was familiar, despite the years and anger separating them for so long. “What you did in the bar was shitty, sure. Fucked up, definitely. But the way Jay hurt his girls while I just laughed his talk off? I can’t help but think that out there, Liv’s rapist was bullshitting with his guys the day after he ruined my sister’s life. And yeah, I’d want to punch the guy until he stopped breathing, too.”

Zane tried to ignore the heat stinging his eyes at the understanding he never dreamed he’d get. At the friend he’d sorely missed all these years. He flicked his Bic and lit another cigarette, taking a drag to steady himself. With the flood of emotions he’d been wrestling with from the second he opened his eyes, the familiar urge for a drink rode him in a fiercer way than normal. However, his empty pocket fought those urges—he needed to earn his chips back, one step at a time, the way he had when he’d first started this journey.

“You know I’d never hurt your sister, right?” Zane said, his voice coming out hoarse. He didn’t dare look at Lex, because the tide begged to break, and he sure as hell wouldn’t crumble in front of him. “She’s the first person in a long while who’s given me an ounce of hope. She could leave me, break my heart, do whatever she needs to. What’s most important to me is Liv’s happiness.”

Lex snorted. “Man, now you’re really making me feel like an ass. I should’ve come and confronted you about this years ago. Holding the grudge took some effort.”

Zane shrugged and tapped the ash from the end of his cigarette onto the asphalt. “It’s like the guys at my meetings say—you can’t force progress. Everything has a time and a season. If you’d tried to rush things this conversation wouldn’t be genuine and we’d do more damage than good.”

Lex heaved a sigh and scratched the nape of his neck. “Still, a decade’s a lot of wasted years.” He glanced to Zane at last, the apology clear in his eyes. Like his sister, Lex couldn’t conceal his emotions worth a damn. Zane ran a hand through his tangled strands, the strain in his chest dissipating at the honest conversation he’d longed to have for so long with his former best friend.

“All it took was me tapping your sister to bridge that divide,” Zane shot back with a smirk before he could help himself, falling into older patterns.

Lex’s gaze flared, and Zane swallowed. Shit.

Except, when Lex opened his mouth, he shut it a second later. And in that moment, the bristling indignation dissolved, and a sharp laugh erupted from him. Lex shook his head as his laughter increased until his shoulders shook. Zane’s grin spread, his chest warming with amusement. Childish and stupid, sure, but they hadn’t joked in years, and hell on earth, it felt good.

“You fucking asshole,” Lex said, dropping a lazy punch to Zane’s arm.

Zane shrugged and took another drag from his cigarette, staring at the bright sky overhead. For the first time in a while, those sunbeams warmed him to the core.

15

When a knock on Liv’s door sounded, her heart nearly leapt out of her chest.

Once Lex sent the text that he was heading to Zane’s to apologize, she chose to stay home and give them time. Still, she was desperate to be by Zane’s side right now. The idea of him relapsing scared her, but even worse, the idea of him disappearing again was sheer terror. Her throat dried as she rose off her leather couch, and Percival the Bold gave a plaintive meow when her movement rippled across the couch. Liv ran her fingers across his head as she headed for the door.

Before she could even reach for the handle, the door flew open, and Tessa marched inside. Liv sucked in a breath to mask her disappointment as the memories of their last encounter came crashing down. Any normal day she’d walk right up to her bestie and toss her arms around her, but after the hellish night she’d been through, Liv wasn’t in the mood for another preach session.

Tessa thrust out a container in front of her before Liv could get a word in. “Apology muffins,” she said, her lips quirking with the hint of a smile. “Edible ones.”

Liv took the container and opened up the half-dozen banana chocolate chip muffins that smelled so glorious her mouth began to water. She’d barely eaten a cracker today, which meant her blood sugar was reaching obnoxious lows. Together, they walked to her kitchen counter where she opened the container and snagged one, the wrapper flying towards her open trash can. By the time she sank her teeth into the sugary sweetness, she’d already forgiven Tessa.

“If he didn’t have a history, and you didn’t have yours, I would’ve been jumping in to ask questions, getting excited with you over this crazy new adventure you’re on, not trying to interfere from the sidelines.” Tessa tugged at her ponytail, a half-smile on her lips even though worry reflected in her dark eyes. “Instead, my cop training took over, and I was ready to sentence the guy before I got the chance to discover if he was even guilty. Why don’t you tell me about him?”

Tears stung the corners of Liv’s eyes, but she kept them at bay despite the fierce wash of warmth rushing through her. With friends like Tessa and Lex in her life, as frustrating as they could be, she knew she could stay in the fight. Crossing the distance between them, she threw her arms around Tessa to squeeze her into a hug while crumbs flew through the air from the half-eaten muffin she still gripped. Her bestie clung back tightly.

“I know the whole story about his felony,” Liv said once they pulled apart and she set to percolating some coffee. Drowning herself in coffee and muffins provided the best distraction from the way her gaze kept jumping to her phone and the door. Waiting for word from Zane. “And I knew the asshole he beat the shit out of. No guy who abuses women is going to garner my sympathy.”

Tessa nodded, grabbing a pair of mugs from the kitchen cabinet. “Guess you can’t judge everyone from their reports. You know his history pretty well, don’t you?”

Liv took another couple of bites of muffin, littering her countertop with crumbs. “Better than Lex ever did. My brother didn’t know about the abusive household Zane grew up in or why that sort of thing might send him off the handle. And hell, Z’s been beating himself up for that night ever since—the man thinks he’s a lowlife, when in reality he’s got so much to offer the world.”

“And I’m guessing you’re going to give him a chance to shine?” Tessa asked with a relieved smile that warmed her eyes.

“If he’ll let me,” she said, biting down on her lip. “Dammit, he’s always been the one for me. Always. Hell, I even saved the beat-up leather jacket he gave me back in high school and kept the torch burning for a damn decade.”

Last night she’d acted with utmost confidence, but the longer the silence stretched between them with no contact, the more she worried. Tessa poured coffee, passing a steaming mug in Liv’s direction. Liv crammed the rest of the muffin into her mouth and lifted the mug to her lips. A second later, she spit out a stream of fiery coffee and muffin crumbs.

Tessa snorted. “Trying to prepare yourself for fire breathing?”

Liv smacked her lips together, trying to rid herself of the stinging burn even as Tessa’s words made her smile.

A knock pounded at her door.

Tessa lifted a brow, and Liv tried to not look too anxious as her head whipped in that direction.

“Door’s open, come on in,” she called, wondering if the visitor would end up being another false hope and Lex had decided to join the party. Tessa’s hand brushed by the pistol she carried on her, paranoia amped up at all times.

The door creaked open, and Zane stepped inside.

His hair hung in loose waves, not tied back like normal, and his beard looked a bit more rugged, but what struck her the most was the weariness in his eyes. The man had walked to hell and back in the span of one night. The short-sleeved Henley he wore was bleach-clean and startlingly white against his Polynesian skin, and the way his jeans hugged his defined ass and those powerful thighs made her want to sink her teeth into him all over again.

The events of last night had sliced them raw, and despite the way she’d fallen into sync with him the moment they reconnected, here and now she wasn’t sure what move she should make.

“We will catch up later—you owe me dinner,” Tessa said, taking the cue from the awkward silence stretching between them. She set her coffee mug on the counter and squeezed Liv tight in one more hug before making her way to the door. As she passed, Tessa gave Zane a nod of acknowledgement and exited as fast as she’d come.

Which left the two of them in her apartment, alone.

“Can we talk?” Zane asked, his voice hoarse. Liz swallowed, her throat tightening. Those words rarely spelled good news, and a sense of foreboding clung to her, one she couldn’t shake. If he came here to tell her he planned on leaving, or even if he couldn’t continue this relationship, she wasn’t sure she could handle the rejection right now.

“Come on in,” she said, not moving from the kitchen counter, because she didn’t think her shaking legs would carry her. Zane lumbered in, hands in his pockets and a slight hunch to his shoulders. Her kitchen, which she considered vast, seemed swallowed by his towering presence and the fears threatening to devour her.

“About last night,” he said, his gaze sweeping the ground. “I’m so sorry you had to see me like that. For everything I put you through.”

All the energy building inside her lit like a match. Heat filled her in one furious sweep.

“No, you don’t apologize to me,” she argued, gripping her mug for all she was worth. The liquid in her cup trembled, but she wouldn’t back down, not on this. “Apologizing for something you can’t help is what you do when you’re walking away. You were there during my breakdowns, Z. Why can’t I be there for yours?” Her voice cracked, and she stopped talking, afraid the fierce storm of emotions brewing inside her would take over.

Zane’s gaze softened, and he crossed the agonizing inches between them, the ones pride and fear forbade her from crossing. He wrapped those muscular arms around her, and Liv sagged against his sturdy chest, the heat of him enfolding her like a blanket.

“Won’t lie, I sure as hell don’t get why you put up with my sorry ass. However, I’m not here to argue with you, Livs.” He clutched her like a lifeline, and she surrendered to his embrace, her legs trembling with the relief that rushed through her.

“Before we go forward,” he murmured into her hair, “we need to lay everything out in the open. Honesty is one of my steps, and if I want to keep my lapse from turning into a full blown relapse, I need to recommit myself to sobriety. What I’m saying is, this won’t be an easy road—I’m going to have to dedicate a lot of time at meetings, and dodge certain things if I’m in a bad headspace.”

She nodded against him, all the unsaid things tensing the air. Liv wasn’t prone to secrecy—full disclosure she could do, even if she had to summon her courage in the process. She sucked in a shaky breath, unwilling to look at him while she called on every ounce of strength she could manage.

“If we’re doing this for real,” she said, “you’ve got to be aware of my triggers, about what happened to me back in college.” His silence urged her onward even as his grip around her waist tightened the same way her heart did. She forced herself to speak the words out loud.

“I was raped,” she said, trying to blank out the memories. Even now, the word held power over her, as if speaking it aloud reduced her to nothing but a nameless victim stuck in the helpless fugue state that claimed her in the weeks after. Zane didn’t interrupt, just continued to hold her tightly while he listened, providing the strength she needed to continue. It was time for her to do this.

“Third year in college, I was at a party at another dorm. I drank too much, and like a cliché, this friend of mine offers to help me back to my place.” Hell, whenever she said it out loud, she felt so stupid. So stupid for believing, for trusting. A spiral of blame lay one vicious misstep away. Still, she fought to keep moving forward every day. Liv’s throat tightened, but she continued.

“With the way I was wobbling all over the place, I figured it’d be safer to have the assistance. Funny how that turned out.” The bitterness in her voice turned caustic, the memories slamming at the walls she put up to protect herself. She shivered, unable to shake the feeling. “Dropped out days later and never looked back.”

Zane let out a harsh breath, and a second later he pressed a kiss on her forehead. The tenderness and the way he held her kept Liv grounded. Right now, his grip kept her upright when little else did. Even though her nerves jangled and the buzzing in the back of her head began, she forced herself to keep talking. “I don’t do well with the scent of vanilla, with certain sounds, and, as you’ve learned the hard way, I’m a mite twitchy about my wrists being touched.”

“I’m aware,” he said. “We’ll take things one step at a time.” He was silent a moment before continuing. “Your brother told me he spilled the beans about the night I got hauled off by the cops.”

Liv pulled away, looking up to meet his eyes even though she reached out to grab his hands, not wanting to break the physical contact. She could sense his hesitation as he waited for the guillotine to fall. But she wouldn’t tolerate that sort of self-flagellation.

“Yeah he did,” she said, projecting her voice loud, clear, and unafraid. “And I told him he was a moron for not realizing why you might fly off the handle at something like that.” Even if he couldn’t forgive himself yet, she’d fight alongside him until he reached that place. His tentative half-smile stole her heart, with no words necessary for the understanding they exchanged.

“Last night,” he started, guilt shining again in those somber eyes.

“Might happen again,” she cut him off. “Your mind’s fucked, I get it. Mine is too. I can’t promise my body’s not going to lock up in some weird PTSD episode even if you do everything right. The best we can do is own our problems and keep up the fight. If you’re still in this with me, I want you by my side.”

Zane released a hiss of a sigh. “You sure? I’ve got a felony on the record which makes things twice as difficult—on top of that, I won’t always be available. The meetings are a necessary part of keeping sober. I’m never going to be an easy choice.” He squeezed her hands, his gaze darkened with ghosts of his past as even now, he gave her an out. As even now he believed she’d want someone easier than him.

Liv met his gaze head on, lifting her chin and slamming him with the full weight of her stubbornness. “Z, you don’t understand. You’ve always been my choice—my only choice. I loved you when I was sixteen and smitten, and that hasn’t changed, even now.” His eyes widened, and she nearly cursed at herself for blurting out the ‘L’ word. She was the master of shitty timing.

Liv winced and tugged her hand away to scratch her nape, brushing a couple of her teal curls behind her ear. “Don’t feel obligated to be throwing any declarations my way. You wanted full disclosure, but I’m sure you’ve already come to regret that.”

Before she could keep rambling, his fingers swept under her chin, tilting her face up as his lips swept across hers. She deepened the kiss, wrapping her arms around his neck as she sank against him. His warmth, the intoxicating sage musk of him, the thrill of having everything hidden out there in the open between them all came together in one dizzying swirl. Her fear melted away, and she rode the waves of comfort, relief, and desire as his kiss claimed her, delivering the one response she needed.

The sensations threatened to ignite, and Liv pulled back before this kiss sent them straight to her bedroom. Right now, she was shaky on her feet, and despite the solidness Zane projected, she could sense the air of weariness surrounding him still. Last night put him through the wringer, and they both had a hell of a lot to process.

“Babe, I don’t need another damn second to think on it. We had ten years of wasted time apart, and I won’t waste any more,” Zane replied, the heat in his voice piercing right to the core of her. “I love you too, Olivia Morozov.”

Her heart squeezed, and her fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt. His eyes danced, and he grinned with a boyish vulnerability, one that took her back ten years to the times he’d sat on her bed and they’d talked for hours. She’d fallen for him in those earlier years, but their love had grown more powerful with time into this formidable force she never could have imagined at sixteen.

With every kiss, every interaction, every conversation, Liv healed a little more. For so long, she’d been broken, too broken for anything real. However, Zane’s trust, the solid way he backed her without judgment, and the tenderness he shared helped her rebuild the strength she thought she’d lost for good. Despite the warnings he gave, every time she looked into his eyes, all she could see was a wide-open future, of hope and reignited dreams.

16

One year later

Zane couldn’t quell the anticipation riding his veins all day, nor did he want to. He stood outside his apartment, barely daring to believe what sat parked right outside his apartment. Tires screeched in the distance, mingling with shouts, and the occasional car honk. From where he stood, the scents of cheese and grease wafted through the air from the Papadopolis’s pizza joint. Liv’s presence was announced by her heavy footfalls as she stomped her way down the aluminum stairs. The woman had about as much grace as a rhino.

“Holy shit, Z,” she breathed, stepping beside him. “It’s beautiful.” She’d pinned her blue curls back with a red headscarf, wearing one of his t-shirts that hung ten sizes too big on her, and a pair of black leggings. The sight of her still knocked the breath from him, a beauty that grew with every day, every shared smile, and every tease.

He couldn’t agree more. Zane ran a hand through his tangled locks, a stupid grin on his face. The stainless steel frame glinted in the overhead summer sun, nearly sizzling with the fragrant heat. Bardstown traffic zoomed by, and a couple of people stopped and stared along the way, but he didn’t give a damn—he was proud as hell. It had taken time and the money he’d saved all those years, but with Liv’s constant encouragement, he had made the leap.

He bought his food truck.

Even though the thing needed a paint job, even though the truck was bare bones right now, he could see his future restaurant take shape before his eyes, the one he’d dreamed about for so long. The bright oranges and yellows of his mother’s kitchen and the scents of the richly spiced gravy and white rice he’d grown up with were a true comfort amid the dark times. At last, he’d be able to honor the journey he and his family had taken. He could aspire to be something more than his past.

A click-click sounded behind him, a noise he’d begun to hear in his sleep, as Liv snapped away with her camera, nearly hopping up and down with excitement.

“It’s not painted or anything—what’s there to take a picture of?” he asked, leaning over to slip his arm around her shoulder and squeeze her.

She swatted him away, crouching to get a better angle. “The moment, jackass. Stand next to your hopes and dreams and try to put something other than a scowl on your mug,” she teased. “Otherwise you’re going to scare all of your potential customers away.” Already, she walked around the opposite end to take more pictures with a giddy grin on her face that infected him.

He snorted as he approached the truck, running his fingertips along the silver panels, the metal warm against his skin. Standing here beside it, he could smell the phantom scent of cooking beef, of sizzling eggs, and of tangy Kahlua pork all over beds of white rice. Nostalgia swept through him, mixed with longing for a dream soon to become a reality.

“Want to check out the inside with me?” Zane asked, hopping to unlock the back door. He walked inside the hotbox, drops of sweat blossoming on his forehead, even with the sleeveless tee and shorts he’d donned. Nerves swept through him as he made his way to the opposite side of the truck.

“Roomy—think there’s enough space for me to cook?” Liv teased as she slunk in behind him.

“Please don’t,” he mock-pleaded. “I want some customers.” Zane leaned against the counter that in no time would be filled with supplies and utilized to full capacity. A dream that once seemed so distant and surreal now bloomed before his eyes, and he couldn’t help but acknowledge how instrumental Liv had been. Every step of the way she’d encouraged, supported, and helped him make this a reality. He wasn’t used to relying on others, but they worked together so easily, with a teamwork he’d only dreamed of before.

One he wanted for keeps.

Zane sank on one knee in front of her before snagging the extra weight in his pocket beside his one year chip. He flipped open the velvet box, and her brows lifted high when she caught sight.

“Livs, I know you don’t need a ring to shout this commitment to the world—we belonged with each other from the day we met. But I’m a selfish bastard, and I want the honor of calling you my wife,” Zane said, his heart hammering in his chest. He’d planned this for a long while now, but the day he bought the truck, he’d made another purchase as well. Sweat trickled down his temple, nerves and heat combining as he waited for her to respond.

A blinding smile stole her scarlet lips, and those blue eyes glowed like a summer sky. Her hand jumped for her camera, and her finger slid over the shutter. Zane lifted a brow, unable to hide his amusement. Of course.

“You’re going to leave me hanging so you can snap some shots?”

“Maybe it’s fun to see you sweat,” she murmured, the sensual smirk on her sending his mind to dirty places. Her finger poised at the ready to snap a shot. “One picture?” she asked.

“All right,” he said, shaking his head with a grin as he remained kneeling a moment longer, the jewelry box weighing down his palm. Still, he couldn’t deny her, not with the joy that overtook her when she was behind the camera. The second she took the shot, Liv tugged her precious cargo from around her neck and joined him on the ground, crouching in front of him. She plucked the ring from the box and slipped on the silver band, a marquise-cut black diamond in the center, a perfect match against her pale fingers.

“Only if you’ll do me the honor of being my husband,” she said with a grin, the corners of her eyes crinkling with amusement. He couldn’t help but remember a similar proposal some time ago on a sunlit day in Cherokee Park. For once, he understood her undying drive to capture every moment on camera, because this one he wanted to remember for the rest of his life.

“I think I can handle that,” he murmured, closing the distance between them. He claimed her lips like he had the first time, savoring the sweetness of her, the citrus threaded through her hair, and the partner he’d found for the journey. She deepened the kiss, her arms twining around his neck. Kneeling in the middle of his food truck with the woman he’d chosen to spend the rest of his life with, Zane’s heart ached to burst.

They already encountered road bumps, and when life’s stressors descended, hardships would emerge again, but for, he felt like he could fight them. With Liv at his side, he’d become more than a lowlife with no hope. Each moment he spent with her taught him more about what he could become and about dreams he could still attain as she led by example, embracing her passion for photography every waking second.

In the past, each day had been a struggle, his lonely existence barely worth fighting for. But this future with Liv? He’d take up arms every day to battle his addictions and his past for the bliss she brought, and together they would both continue to heal, one step at a time.

About the Author

Strong women. Strong words.

Katherine McIntyre is a feisty Irish chick with a big attitude despite her short stature. She writes stories featuring snarky women, ragtag crews, and men with bad attitudes—high chance for a passionate speech thrown into the mix. As an eternal geek and tomboy who’s always stepped to her own beat, she’s made it her mission to write stories that represent the broad spectrum of people out there, from different cultures and races to all varieties of men and women. Easily distracted by cats and sugar.

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