Megan

The soft chirping of birds alerted Megan that the storm was over. She opened her eyes to the watery light of dawn. She was still nestled warmly in Zander’s arms among a tangle of sleeping bags. She didn’t want to move, afraid it would break the spell. She lay gazing at Zander for a long moment, wondering what version of him she’d face today. Would it be the man who rescued her last night, or the one hell bent on pushing her away?

Zander’s eyelids fluttered open, dazzling Megan with their brilliant green hue. She noted how they matched the lush moss-drenched forest that had nearly gotten the better of her.

As the sleep faded from his eyes, Megan could practically feel an icy chill fill the tent. It seemed he’d made his decision—pushing her away it was.

Zander sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Megan sat up too, already missing his warmth at her side. She pressed her cheek to his bare back and he stilled. Megan let her lips brush the edge of the tattoo on his shoulder and he flinched away.

“Don’t,” he warned.

“Why?”

“Because.”

“Because why?” she pushed, anger edging into her voice.

“Ye know why.”

“No I don’t! All I know is that you keep giving me mixed signals.”

“Megan, I can’t give ye what ye want.”

She flopped back into the sleeping bag with an exasperated sigh. “Then why did you even bother to rescue me last night?”

He finally faced her. “That’s not fair.”

“Really? Because I find this sex yoyo pretty unfair.”

“Megan—”

“No, I’m serious. You can’t keep doing this, Zander. You push me away and you pull me back. Make up your mind!”

Zander opened his mouth, closed it, then tried again. In the end he turned his back to her and tugged his clothes on, before escaping from the tent.

Megan rolled onto her stomach, fighting the urge to cry. She’d spent years hoping she could be the kind of girl Zander could want, but she was at her wit’s end. She always tried to see the best in people and let worries roll off her back, but Zander made it impossible. Every day she spent with him she felt more and more tangled in his complicated web of emotions. She didn’t want to give up on him but at what cost to herself? Her heart felt like a punching bag. It wouldn’t hurt so bad if she didn’t know that he cared. But he did. She felt it every time they touched. But what did it matter if he was determined to push her away?

She’d never met anyone who made her feel more foolish, or more in love. It was infuriating, and she was sick of letting Zander get away with it. Shoving on her clothes, Megan gathered her courage and unzipped the tent flap, climbing out into the cold.

Zander was knelt over a pile of soaked wood trying to start a fire. His gorgeous face was lined with stubble and determination. Megan felt a familiar ache twist around her heart and she wondered if there would ever be a time when she could look at him without it hurting.

She picked up her bruised ego and marched past him.

“Where are ye going?” he asked.

“What do you care?”

He grabbed her arm and pulled her to him.

“Let go,” she growled.

“No.”

“You don’t want me, Zander. So just leave me alone.”

“That’s not true.”

She laughed. “Right. You like fucking me, but that’s it.”

“Christ, woman! I’m fucking crazy about ye! Is that what ye want to hear?”

“Yes!”

Zander threw his hands up. “But it doesn’t matter.”

“How can it not matter?”

“Because we’re never gonna work.”

“That’s because you won’t even try!”

“Megan, I have been trying. That’s what I’m trying to tell ye.”

She reached a hand out to his cheek. His eyes closed against her touch like it was painful. “Zander, just let me in.”

“I can’t.”

His eyes snapped open, pleading. “Megan, ye make me feel lost.”

“Maybe that’s a good thing?”

“How? How is feeling lost a good thing?”

“Maybe you need to get lost before you can find yourself.”

Zander shook his head, but Megan could see the fight slipping out of him. She pulled him closer, kissing him softly.

“This is never going to work,” he murmured.

“You don’t know that.”

“Ye want more than I can give.”

“How do you know?”

“I know.”

“Maybe I only want to kiss you.”

“Do ye?”

She kissed him again, but he broke it off early.

“But is that all ye want, Megan? Just kisses? No strings?”

Megan slumped down from her tiptoes, and shook her head.

“Thought so.”

Zander

Zander packed up the wet tent in silence. One more day—that’s all he had to get through. They planned to hike to Torc Falls so Megan could get the last shots she needed. It was early. The hike was five miles, but if they made good time maybe they’d even be able to hike back out and Zander would be able to avoid one more excruciating night torturing himself by sleeping next to the angel he knew he couldn’t keep.

The sooner this was over the better. Zander was convinced there was no way he’d survive much more of this. He found himself wondering if he and Megan would’ve ever had a chance. Even if she lived in Ireland or he in Boston, it didn’t feel possible to withstand such insufferable desire. It was unbearable to feel so much for one person.

Megan made him feel like he was one short circuit away from a full-blown black out. She made his heart want to seize. He was constantly worried about her, thinking of her, missing her—even when she was right next to him.

And no matter how hard he pushed her away, she kept clawing at his walls. It was like she could see something he couldn’t.

He desperately wished she were right—that they could work, that he could try. But even if he could muster the courage to give her his heart, what was the point? She’d only break it in a few months when she handed it back. Or worse, what if he didn’t even last that long? What if he let her in and she saw the extent of his damage and it sent her running?

That would be worse. But it was a very real possibility. Zander was convinced he was impossible to love. Why else would he have been abandoned so many times? He was so used to everyone he let in letting him down or leaving him that he couldn’t stomach the idea of letting it happen again. Better to be the one doing the leaving.