His hands grab my waist. “Then, what is it?”
I caress his stubbled jaw with my thumb, grazing the seam of his lower lip. It’s so soft and full. “Do you… where do you live in New York?”
A frown bisects his smooth forehead and I go to caress that with my other thumb. “What?”
I move lower and trace the arch of his strong brows. “I just never asked you. Do you have like an apartment?”
He takes a few moments to answer as he watches me. “I share it with a couple of guys.”
I smile slightly, rubbing the peak of his cheekbone. “Your friends?”
The pads of his fingers dig into my waist. “Kinda. Just some people Scoot, the guy who worked here before, hooked me up with.”
“They ride like you?”
“One of them does. We, uh, perform at shows and stuff. I’m not home a lot.”
I still remember the night I saw him jumping across the gap in the ground. It was scary, so fucking scary. But he was magnificent, too. Brave and shiny like a star.
“You’re really good at it, aren’t you?”
Some emotion moves in his eyes, making them liquidy, and I clutch his face with both hands. “Yeah. Took me a long time to find something I’m good at. Something that others think I’m good at, too.”
Zach has a whole ‘nother life out of this town.
I mean, I knew that already. But this gives it a concrete picture. An apartment he shares with friends. A job he’s good at. I bet everybody who watches him perform thinks the same way. That he’s brilliant and breathtaking.
His eyes take on a distant look, then. “Took me a hell of a lot longer though, to realize that not every dad treats his kid that way. For the longest time I thought that this is how it’s supposed to be. A father is supposed to be mean and angry and I’m supposed to… just take it and hate him. I’m supposed to hate him so much that I become like him.” Finally, he focuses on me. “A bully.”
“Zach, you’re not…” I begin with a determined and fierce tone. “You haven’t been a bully in a long time.”
“It was you who made me realize it, you know that?”
“Me?”
He’s looking at me with something so akin to affection that I feel like I’ll burst out of my skin. I’m so restless and needy.
So hungry for this elusive guy.
“Yeah. What you said to me on prom night. How I change you and make you into a worse person. That’s when I realized I’d been doing to you what my dad does to me. I’ve been turning you into me, angry and vengeful.”
Don’t be like me.
His words from long ago make sense to me now. I get what he was saying. In his own way, he was telling me to move on, forget about him, live my life. He was telling me to be a bigger person, a better person than him.
I grab the back of his neck and press our foreheads together. “You’re not like your dad. You’re better than him. You’re so much better and amazing and –”
Zach moves his hand from my waist and clutches my face, arching my neck up. “What’s with the twenty questions?”
His brusque tone makes something clench in my tummy. Something thrilling and delicious. And I wrap my fingers around his wrist, the one with the tattoo. For some reason, touching it sends a shot of current slamming into my core.
“Why’d you come back to this town?” I ask.
His demeanor takes on a dark turn, a mysterious turn. “Why?”
Ever since he came back, I’ve seen him climbing out of tower one, where Mr. and Mrs. Prince live. It’s the only place in this mansion where the junior staff isn’t allowed. There have been so many rumors about why, but no one knows for sure and no one dares talk about it above hushed whispers. Mrs. S is super strict about it.
Every time I see him coming out of there, he appears angry and agitated. I don’t know why. But I know it has something to do with his dad.