Chapter Three

 

Zoey

 

Being alone in an enclosed space with Wyatt fucking McCann would have been hard enough stone cold sober. But with alcohol in my system, it was even worse. My body had been on high alert since I’d seen him earlier that day and everybody knew how wine might’ve added to that. I wasn’t technically drunk yet had enough liquid courage running through my veins to make me feel so much bolder than normal. Almost like now nothing could stop me from getting the answers I’d wanted four years ago. I was suddenly a woman on a mission.

“So, do you want to tell me why you disappeared four years ago after almost having sex with me?” The car swerved to the right quickly before Wyatt regained control. I braced myself against the dash to keep from hitting the door.

“Wow, you go right for the jugular don’t you?” he asked.

“Always.” It was true. I rarely pulled punches anymore, preferring to “shoot from the him” as my father liked to say. “Well?”

“That’s not exactly what happened but I shouldn’t have let it get as far as it did. You’re Riley’s kid sister and I’m a lot older than you.”

“I’m not a kid, Dickhead,” I shot back.

“God, what a mouth.”

“Very talented mouth. Or so I’ve been told.” I raised an eyebrow at him and waited for a response. His jaw tensed and his knuckles turned white from the tightened grip on the steering wheel.

“Don’t say shit like that to me, Zoey.”

“Why not? Isn’t that how buddies talk? Didn’t you run through all your conquests to pass the time when you were in the desert or mountains or where ever you were? Isn’t that what you military people do?”

“No.” The word came out clipped and hard.

Everything I said was pissing him off. Worse yet, I knew it and didn’t care. I could see it in the way his full lips thinned as he clenched his jaw. But some reaction was better than none. I gave him a pinched face look that hopefully conveyed just how much I didn’t believe him because I’d hung around guys my entire life and knew better. Hell, I’d heard more than I cared to admit from Riley and him when they were teenagers, when they didn’t know I was listening and sometimes when they did.

“Fine,” he sighed. “I may have mentioned one but she was not a conquest as you called it. Why don’t you lay back and go to sleep.”

“Have you thought about me at all since then?” I asked quietly but hated how vulnerable it sounded. “Even a little bit?” Vulnerable, needy, and insecure were things I’d promised I’d never be again after the incident. Yet here I was sounding like all of those things.

“Of course I have. But Riley’s my best friend. He would’ve kicked my ass if he found out I’d even touched you.”

“Kicked your ass?” She smirked. That would’ve been a pretty even match yet it still gave me a small bit of satisfaction to think of my brother fighting the guy that shattered my heart.

“I would’ve let him. I was twenty-two. In the Marines. I couldn’t leave some girl behind not to mention the dirty old man it would’ve made me. You were eighteen, Zoey.”

A lump the size of a grapefruit rose in my throat but I refused to cry. I wouldn’t allow it and had gotten really good at forcing my emotions to be shielded by titanium. But even I had to admit that those words cut me deeply.

“Some girl? You better get me out of this car in the next two minutes or it’s going to get really fucking ugly.”

His eyebrows shot up but I wasn’t about to elaborate. All I knew was that I needed to get away from him. Over the years, I’d imagined what it might be like to see him again, how that conversation would go because even though I would’ve preferred it, avoiding him forever wasn’t an option.

After he pulled into my parent’s driveway, I threw the passenger door open before the car had come to a complete stop. At that point, I would’ve jumped out without him even slowing down. Tuck and roll, Grandma.

“Zoey, come on,” he called out after his car door shut behind me. He followed me up the short walkway to the house. When I didn’t answer he said, “What exactly did I do here to light your fuse?”

“Nothing,” I called over my shoulder. “Nothing at all, Wyatt. Chalk it up to some girl throwing a temper tantrum or having too much to drink. Now go home. Or better yet, go find the girl that was worth you remembering.”

The damn deadbolt on the front door gave me a little bit of trouble. The key went in but not all the way and wouldn’t turn the gears. It was the lock. It wasn’t the alcohol and it wasn’t the adrenaline pumping through my body from the confrontation. It was the lock and I wouldn’t admit to anything else. Finally the damn thing gave away and I got through door then slammed it behind me. I took several deep breaths before scrambling up to my bedroom where I kicked my shoes off so hard that they thumped against the wall on the other side of the room. For a brief moment I’d imagined kicking them at Wyatt.

How could he call her some girl as if I didn’t matter? At the very least we’d been friends and while my very young mind had maybe hoped for more, my new-found maturity knew he wasn’t the guy for me.