Total pages in book: 120
Estimated words: 112917 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 565(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112917 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 565(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
“It’s fine,” I said after I realized he wasn’t calming down.
He shot me a look. I’d said the dreaded word.
“But it is,” I insisted. “I warned John-Keith there’d be consequences if this got out. And now… now I’ll cut contact.”
My stomach soured at the idea. JK and I had spent a lot of good times together over the years. Yes, he’d always been a bit shallow and competitive with me, but there’d also been moments of kindness. Like when he’d given me some of his clothes after I came to live with Gran. Or when he snuck me a copy of Mr. Casey’s fourth-period biology quiz so I wouldn’t fail it when I got it in sixth period. It wasn’t his fault I’d already memorized the entire list of terms the night before.
“He’s not a bad guy,” I said softly as I remembered all the times he’d tried looking out for me.
“He’s not a good one, Zane,” he said, still obviously angry as hell. “And you deserve good people in your life. Who the hell exposes someone like that publicly? Who does that to anyone, let alone to his own cousin, the person who’s tried to help him over and over again? You’re such a nice person, and JK just can’t handle it.”
I let out a nervous laugh, feeling suddenly awkward receiving his compliment. “It’s not like that—”
“It is. He has the privilege of having access to someone as kind and talented and smart and generous as you. He has the privilege of having grown up with you and having memories with you. He has the privilege of having Zane Hendley in his goddamn life… and all he can see is Zee fucking Barlo. When was the last time he asked how you were and meant it? When was the last time he tried to help you? When was the last time he tried to spend time with you without trying to spin it into an Instagram post? Having you—you, Zane—in his life is a fucking blessing, and he just shits all over it.”
His impassioned rant was unexpected and… really, really nice. But it made me feel flustered.
“You’re taking this too seriously,” I explained. “I’m not that big a deal.”
“You are,” he said without turning to look at me.
“It’s fine,” I assured him. “I promise.”
“Stop saying shit’s fine when it’s not! The moments he gets to spend with you, like that night around the bonfire, are special. His relationship isn’t something he should get to capitalize on. You’re not a fucking commodity!”
“JK doesn’t know better. And I’ve been given so much, I feel bad for him—”
“You’ve been given nothing you didn’t work for. And your cousin exposed the details of your sex life to the entire world.” The words were low and dangerous.
I swallowed. He was right, but I didn’t want to face it. “I’m okay, though. I am. I promise it’s—”
He turned to look at me, the storm crashing in his expression. “Say it again. I dare you. Watch what happens.”
“Fine,” I whispered, not sounding like I meant it at all.
Bear grabbed my shoulders and pressed forward into my personal space. I backed up instinctively until I felt the rough bark of a tree at my back.
“Fine is not acceptable for you. Not anymore. Not ever. You can be happy. You can be sad. You can be pissed off or confused, angry or betrayed.” His cheeks flushed as he spoke, and his eyes implored me as they flicked between my own. “Zane, your music connects with people because you’re so fucking honest. Where is that honesty when you’re talking with the people in your real life?”
The shock of his emotional outburst kept me pinned, but with his body nearly pressed up against mine, I would never complain about it. My eyes strayed to his lips and lingered as I tried to process his question.
“Well… I…” The only thought in my head was about how his lips would taste and why my dream had been of Bear in a busy train station instead of Bear in my bed. Was that the kind of honesty he was looking for? I didn’t think so.
“Tell me,” Bear pleaded. “Tell me exactly what you’re feeling right now.”
My heart pounded as his much larger body leaned over me. I couldn’t tell him the truth—that I wanted to know what it felt like to be touched intimately and possibly devoured violently by my personal protection specialist.
“I’m feeling like I’ve never seen this part of you before,” I admitted in a quiet voice. Part of me was afraid if I spoke too loudly, I’d scare him off. He’d realize how close he was and back away. That was the last thing I wanted.
He narrowed his eyes at me. “You deserve better than your asshole cousin. At least I can be honest about it. I’m angry. I’m fucking enraged. And I’m so damned confused as to how someone who’s supposed to love and care for you can treat that like… like… like it’s nothing.”