And damn, I’m addicted to that truth. That out of all the glittering, expensive shit her parents have bought her over the years, she chooses the one piece that ties her to me.
I kiss it again, tasting the metal, wishing I could brand myself into her skin the way that necklace already has.
Her eyes shimmer, wide and disbelieving. “Then why does it feel like the only thing good about me is you?”
“Don’t ever say that again, Honeycomb. I’m tired of hearing you talk so badly about yourself.”
Her lips part, but I don’t let her speak yet. I need her to hear this.
“You matter with me. You matterwithoutme. You’re not some accessory to my success, and you don’t need your father’s approval. You’re Honey Sanderson, and that’s the reason I’m in love with you, not because you’re mine, but because you’reyou.”
Her eyes brim with tears. “Sometimes I just feel so small.”
“Then let me be your shelter. I’ll be big enough for the both of us, but know that you don’t need me to shine, Honey. You’ve always been your own fucking sun.”
A tear slips down her cheek and I catch it with my thumb before lowering my mouth to hers. This kiss isn’t desperation—it’s worship. It’s the only language I have left to convince her just how perfect she is to me.
“I love you,” she whispers against my lips. “So much it feels like it’s going to destroy me.”
“Then we’ll burn together,” I murmur, pressing my forehead to hers before rolling her onto her back and covering her body with mine. “I’m not going anywhere,” I rasp, dragging my mouthdown her throat. Over the curve of her breast, then the dip of her stomach.
“Zach,” she gasps, fingers tangling in my hair when I nudge her thighs apart and press a kiss to the inside of her knee.
“Let me show you,” I murmur against her skin, dragging my mouth higher. “Let me prove it.”
By the time I settle between her legs, she’s trembling, pleading. I give her what she wants, what she needs, until she’s clutching at me, pulling me up, eyes dark and desperate.
“Now,” she whispers. “Please, now.”
Her nails dig into my shoulders when I slide inside her, and it feels like I’m staking a claim on every inch of her soul.
I move with her, not against her, coaxing rather than taking. With every movement, I swear it to her again and again—you’re not nothing, you’re not small, you’re mine, and I will do everything I can to protect you.
Her eyes flutter open, locking with mine. “Zach…”
“I love you,” I groan, my forehead pressed to hers as she clenches around me. When she falls apart beneath me, I hold her through it, kissing the tears away.
When it’s over, I don’t let go. I keep her wrapped in my arms, her head on my chest, my hand stroking her hair until her breathing evens and sleep finally takes her.
But me? I lie awake, my mind racing. Something happened tonight, something deeper than stress, and my gut tells me Jenni’s at the center of it.
That’s tomorrow’s war.
Tonight, all that matters is this: when Honey needed proof, she came here. She came to me. And I’ll spend every night of my life making sure she never doubts that again.
I groan, burying my face in the pillow as my brain tries to split itself in half. Every throb feels like claws digging into my skull, and the only thing dulling it is the low rumble of Zach’s voice drifting up from downstairs.
I’m in Zach’s house, but how did I get here?
Every time I try to remember, it feels like I’m getting sucker-punched from the inside.
What the hell did I drink last night?
Memories come back in broken waves. The photo. The bar. Jenni… Chris… Zach’s front door, and me showing up here, drunk and desperate.
“Oh my God.” I drag the comforter over my head, wishing I could disappear into the mattress forever. “What have I done?”
I can still hear Zach’s voice below, and pathetically, I try to hear his tone. Is he angry at me? Because if the roles were reversed—if he showed up wasted and shoved his dick in my face, begging me to suck it—I’d be furious.