“But I do.”

“No, you don’t.” His warm hand curled over my bare hip.

I shook my head, his star badge digging into my cheek. “Yeah, I do. I never told you.”

The hand he had on my shoulder slid across and down my spine, his fingers warm when they landed on the naked small of my back. “Tell me whatever you want, inside, yeah? We need to talk.”

Oh fucking, fucking hell.

I went tense.

And maybe if I hadn’t gotten tense in his arms, he wouldn’t have noticed. But I was in them, all nice and safe and warm, and he felt it. His chin went down close to my ear, the bristles scratchy. “What was that?”

“Nothing,” I lied, trying to think of any excuse possible why we couldn’t go in and failing.

That was when I heard the door creak open and he shuffled me back a step before I could stop us. It was enough for him to see my bare bones living room.

“What are all those boxes?” he asked slowly.

Shit. “Some of my stuff.”

It was his turn to tense, like he could sense something was off and there was a reason why I had boxes sitting in my living room. “Your stuff? You donatin’ it?” he asked, the pads of his fingers skimming my back just enough to make me tense up even more.

“No?”

“No or no?”

“No?”

“Bianca?” He pressed his palm flat against my skin, warming it instantly.

I had to fight back a shiver at his touch. “Yeah?”

His chin dipped in, brushing my temple. “Why didn’t you want me to come in?”

I turned so that my forehead went to the middle of his chest, and the only reason why I didn’t try and pull away was because I didn’t want to look at his face. And apparently, I didn’t want to talk to him either because I shrugged, like a weak shit.

What was he going to do? Tell me I couldn’t pack my things? Or that I couldn’t move?

His chin went back to my temple. “Why?” he asked so sweetly, I almost wanted to tell him.

“Because.”

“Because why?” Those clever fingers tickled again. “You movin’?” His chest rose. “You movin’ in with somebody?”

“I don’t know yet,” I answered honestly, still speaking into his shirt. “I had free time the other night and figured I might as well start packing a few things.”

His whole body tensed; I even felt his stomach muscles harden against mine. “Who are you movin’ in with?”

Did he sound mad, or was I imagining it? “I don’t know. My lease is about to end in a couple of weeks. My coworker said I could move in with her until I decide what I want to do, but I’ve been thinking I could go to Connie’s or stay with Boogie’s parents or….”

He went very still.

I lifted a hand and picked at one of the pearl buttons of his shirt with my fingernail, still keeping my attention down.

I had planned on telling him, talking to him about it. I just hadn’t gotten that far yet. I kept yo-yoing back and forth between staying in Houston, going to Austin, or possibly even heading to Killeen to be with my sister. I’d also been looking for a nice apartment I could rent on a month-to-month basis in the meantime until I made a decision.

Gunner had ended up not scheduling my vacation, and even though it pissed me off beyond words, in a way, it ended up being for the best. I ended up rescheduling the photographer to come in, and I still had a lot of work to do before then. And, of course, this was all happening right when my lease was coming to an end. I had my eye on a couple of houses I could rent in Austin and Houston where we could do the photoshoot for my book at since I wasn’t going to have my place for much longer.

I just hadn’t wanted to bother Zac with the details, especially not since he’d been essentially promoted and had the weight of a team back on his shoulders.

I didn’t want to stress him out after what he’d admitted to me that day at Taco Bell.

He had enough shit to worry about without adding me and my problems to his plate.

Zac’s hands went to my shoulders, drawing me away so that those light blue eyes were there, hovering inches from my own as he frowned in concern. “Tell me the truth right now, Peewee. On Mama Lupe’s soul, what the hell is goin’ on?”

Aw, shit. “You had to go there?”

He nodded, not even looking a little bad he’d resorted to it. He looked… well, he didn’t look all that tired anymore either. He seemed… concerned.

“Nothing bad. My lease is fixing to end in a month, and they won’t let me renew it for month-to-month, and I don’t want to sign another agreement. I don’t know if I should stay here, or if I should go be closer to Boog and Con. I’m getting ready for whatever I decide. And I know I mentioned my shoot with that photographer for my cookbook being changed, and that’s in a few weeks, so I have to figure everything out….”

The tendons along his neck popped. “You’re not movin’ in with somebody then?”

“Not some random stranger, if that’s what you’re asking….” I trailed off, taking in his strange expression.

His mouth twisted, and it took him so long to say something, I had no idea what was about to come out of his mouth. His hand went to palm his head as he blinked slowly, his words a trickle. “Why didn’t you say somethin’?”

I went up to the balls of my feet, squirming. “I was going to…. Don’t you look at me like that. You have enough going on; I’m not going to put my shit on you. You have to focus. I don’t need to distract you. You have to worry about your own career and finances.”

His mouth was parted, and he was staring at me and staring at me… and….

“Do you think I’m tight on money?”

“I’d hope you’re fine. You said you were….”

The palm on his forehead turned into two big fingers pressing into the delicate skin at the corners of his eyes. “Darlin’.” He blew out the deepest breath and might have followed that up with a tiny prayer to Jesus before he continued. “I own twenty rental houses, seven Six Guys Burgers, five Pedro’s Pizzas, and I invested early into a shoe app that’s killin’ it. My friend doesn’t do anything else but mess around with stocks during the day.” His gaze pinned me. “I’m fine on money, and I can focus on my career and worry about you at the same time.”

“You what?”

He blinked.

I blinked. “Why didn’t I know that?”

“’Cause you never asked.”

Why would I? “Does Boogie know?”

“He knows about some of it.” Before I could ponder over that, based on the expression he made, something dawned on him, and he reeled. “Isn’t your trip to Disney supposed to be comin’ up? You haven’t said a word about it in a while.”

Just the reminder of my sacrifice made me flinch. And that reminder almost made me cry. I shrugged. “I postponed it. I got most of my money back. I have to get everything together for the shoot for my book. I can’t take a whole week off and be ready for it. I knew what I was doing letting her move the date up, but… I’m still a little disappointed.” More like a lot disappointed, but I couldn’t cry too much over it. It was my choice.