The Darkest Part (Living Heartwood #1)(57)

But even as I’m thinking that, I realize the truth. She’s been holding on to it for a long time. I lead her to believe I only wanted to screw her back in the day. And even though we’ve been cordial on this trip, and we’ve tried to bury that shit like we were just kids and it doesn’t affect us now . . . it does. And I just gave her the opportunity to unleash her pent up frustration. I pressed her while she’s wound tight over last night, and she fired off her reserve ammunition. It completely blindsided me.

Through the windshield, I watch as Sam walks backward, her arm outstretched, thumb up. My anger skyrockets. I can feel my blood pressure rising, building behind my eyes. I scrub my hands down my face and unleash a harsh curse into my palms.

With a deep breath, I suck up my pride and open the truck door. She can rail at me as much as she wants—as much as she needs. Just as long as she does it from inside the truck.

I sink my hands into my pockets and swallow the distance between us in long strides. A few feet from her, I say, “Will you please get back in the truck?”

Her gaze is fixed on the highway, her feet moving backward, carrying her away from me. “I was trying to let last night go. Just pretend it didn’t happen, Holden.”

I nod. “I know.”

“But you won’t let it go.” Her eyes cut to me before she returns to watching the road. There aren’t many cars on this highway, and the ones that do pass—all two of them—pass without a thought of stopping. “I can’t continue on like this. It’s just too much. I messed up, and I don’t want Tyler disappearing into that dark limbo because of me. I owe him more than that . . . than this.” She waves her hands around.

Before I open my mouth, I go over my words in my head. Make sure they don’t sound stupid before I spit them out. “Would it help if I told you something? Something that might help your conscience?”

And with that, she stops walking. Her arm lowers and she looks at me. We stand staring at each other, a mere foot between us, before she answers. “To be honest, I’m kind of terrified to learn any more secrets.”

I nod once, hard. Understandable. I wish I could wipe my mind clean with a giant can of white paint. Just start over. “All right. Then how about this? I don’t want to f*ck you.”

She flinches at my words and harsh tone.

I take in a breath, building my courage. “Last night? That was all me, okay? I take full responsibly, and none of it is your fault.” I hold her gaze, making sure she sees the truth in my eyes. “You did nothing wrong, and because Tyler knew about us before”—I motion between us—“and blamed me the first time, rest assured, he’ll do so again.” I can’t believe I’m giving into her crazy, but I need her to get past this. “He knew about our kiss, and he never blamed you. Now,” I say, my feet eating the last bit of distance between us. “I’m the bad guy. You can get your sweet little ass back in the truck.”

I look down at her, and she swallows. “I just want him back.” Her lips tremble, and my heart constricts.

“I know,” I say. “I know. I do, too.” I release a heavy breath. “And I never wanted to do anything to hurt him or you. Not then, and not now. But I’m a selfish bastard. I would’ve f*cked you six ways from Sunday, and I would’ve loved every second of it.”

Her body tenses, and a flash of something covers her eyes before a fleeting smile tugs at her lips. But she schools her face quickly.

“I’m a guy.” I shrug. “I come with the equipment, ready and willing, to f*ck at the ready. Don’t put too much thought into it.”

This gets a full smile. My heart lightens. “I’m pretty selfish, too,” she says. “I wanted . . .” She shakes her head. “I don’t know. Maybe a moment of not knowing. Not feeling. If that makes sense.”

A pang hits my chest. Being with me, for her, is only a way to forget all her pain. Last night wouldn’t have been a step for us, it would’ve been a time out for her. I press my lips together and nod. “I get that.”

A tear slips down her face, and it’s my undoing. I promised her I’d never touch her, but dammit. I can’t stop my hand from reaching out and cupping her cheek, running my thumb over the clear trail it leaves behind.

She sucks in a sniff and nods against my hand. “Let’s go.”

Walking back, I know that only half of what I told her was the truth. I don’t want to f*ck her. I want to own her. Every last bit of her, I want to make mine. I want to do so much more than just be with her.

After we’re buckled in and heading down the highway, leaving our wreckage behind us, I hear Sam whisper, “You’re not the bad guy.”

I want to believe her.





Sam

By the time we hit downtown Springfield, I feel so far removed from my home, my life . . . myself . . . that the anger I felt back on the highway, and all the shame and self-loathing of last night, seem to be a distant memory, rather than mere hours ago.

Traveling the country is liberating and puts me in a completely different mindset. I understand why Tyler longed for it so badly. This is exactly the feeling he wanted to obtain.

Distance. A new perspective.

Freedom.

Holden and I have spoken very little since our fight. Other than selecting music and commenting on scenery (which was pretty much all green, yellow, and trees), anything that took brain power was like tiptoeing on broken glass instead of eggshells.