Life After Taylah Page 39

“You would?” I whisper.

“Anything for you.”

I hug him again and watch as he stands and walks over to the door. “Get some sleep, honey, you look tired. We’ll talk in the morning.”

“Thank you, Max.”

He flashes me a smile and then closes the door.

And I cry myself to sleep.

CHAPTER 19

NATE

I jerk the window up as quietly as I can. I’m thankful in that moment for the crashing waves that seem to drown out most sound around us. A warm breeze rushes past me and into the open space, causing the curtains to whip furiously. I use my arms to haul my body up and I swing my legs in, smoothly slipping through. I leave the window open as I throw the curtains aside and stare at the sleeping form on the bed.

Her.

Avery.

She’s curled onto her side, her eyes clenched tightly shut. She doesn’t look peaceful; she looks hurt. Her blond hair is lying over her shoulder, and her arms are tucked up under her face. I walk over and stare down at her, knowing I shouldn’t be here, knowing I should turn around and leave, but I can’t. She’s consuming me, changing everything I am.

It’s wrong.

I know exactly how wrong it is. I should go home and just leave Lena; I should move on and then maybe I’ll have a chance with Avery, but it’s never that easy. If I leave Lena, I’m losing Macy. Not to mention that there’s so much we’d have to go through, the legal battle would be huge. I can’t just walk away. I can’t do this. I can’t accept that this is where I’ve truly ended up but here I am, unable to walk away.

And not wanting to.

I reach down and I stroke my fingers over Avery’s cheek and she groans, rolling to her back. I keep my fingers on her soft skin, just taking a moment to stare at her and paint a picture in my memory that no one can ever take away from me. No matter what happens, I’ll always have it; it’ll always be a piece of myself that can remain unscathed.

“Wake up, sweetheart,” I murmur, running my finger over her full, sweet lips.

She turns into my touch, parting her lips just slightly. I tip her bottom lip down, feeling the warmth of her mouth on my thumb. Her eyes flutter open, and I see the moment she becomes alarmed, because her eyes widen and she opens her mouth to scream.

“Avery,” I say quickly. “It’s just me, it’s Nate.”

“Nate?” she squeaks, visibly relaxing.

I sit on the bed beside her and watch as she blinks until her vision is cleared. Then she stares up at me with that sweet, warm expression she gives me, even when she doesn’t know she’s doing it. I cup her cheek and meet her gaze, wanting her to know, wanting her to feel. I close my eyes and fight back any guilt filling my body, slowly eating away at me. I’m not doing anything wrong.

“I wanted to see if you were okay,” I say, my voice low and quiet.

Her eyes soften even more and she reaches up, wrapping her tiny fingers around my wrist. She closes her eyes and turns her cheek into my hand. God dammit. God fucking dammit.

“I’m okay,” she whispers.

“You looked like hell when you came in. I was worried about you.”

She looks away sadly. “It’s not easy, even though I don’t regret it. He meant something to me—maybe not a lot, but still something. This is going to change my whole life, and to be honest,” she swallows, “I’m scared, Nate.”

My protective instincts set in and I lean down, getting so close I can smell her. Honey and vanilla, the sweetest scent.

“I won’t let anything happen to you, Dancer. I’ll make sure you’re okay. If you are having any problems, you come to me.”

“I can’t do that, Nate,” she breathes, her lips parted, her eyes on my mouth.

“You can do that.”

She shakes her head, clenching her eyes shut, as if she’s fighting the same battle I am.

“You’re married. What are we doing here? Because this is no longer innocent. You’re asking me to go against everything I am—and the sad thing is I want to. I can’t get you out of my head, Nate. You’re in it and you’re consuming me. I don’t know how much longer I can say no, but I have to say no. Don’t you understand?” she croaks, staring into my eyes. “I have to say no, Nate. I don’t want to be that woman. I don’t want to hurt your wife. She’s a person, with feelings. I can’t be that cold.”

I stare at her and there’s so much I want to say, but I can’t get it out because she’s right. Lena, aside from all her problems, is a person, and she does have feelings. She won’t understand, and she shouldn’t have to. I close my eyes, taking a deep, shaky breath.

“I’m sorry, Dancer,” I manage to get out through gritted teeth. “I don’t know what’s happened. I don’t know when I became . . . this.”

“Oh Nate,” she says, reaching up to cup my cheek. “We all fall occasionally.”

“I’ve fallen and I’ve chained myself to the ground. I don’t want to get back up, Dancer. I don’t want to be there. I don’t want to feel like this anymore. I want it to fucking go away.”

She makes a soft, calming sound as she sits up and wraps her arms around me. I can’t help but put my arms around her too. I drop my head into her shoulder, taking a deep, trembling breath. I don’t want to walk away from her. These feelings, they’re not lust, or just a way of trying to fix a gaping hole. No, they’re real and they’re true, and that scares the absolute shit out of me.