The Darkest Part (Living Heartwood #1)(74)

Holden’s spread out on top of the comforter on the king bed, watching the flat screen. “I’m done,” I say, and hate that my voice wobbles. He offered me the shower first. I accepted, needing to wash his scent off right away.

With a groan, he pushes himself up and off the bed. “Thanks.”

I dash to my bed so that as he passes, I’m nowhere near him. I’m acting like an idiot. Real casual. I’m sure he’s not as rattled by me. Recalling how carried away he’d gotten when we danced at the club, I decide it’s the same thing. The atmosphere at the show was intense. The Misfits are one of his favorites, and hearing a cover probably got him worked up.

I nod to myself, then roll my eyes.

The shower turns on, and I bite my lip. To take my mind further off tonight, I dig Tyler’s journal out of my pack. With everything that’s happened in the past two days, I haven’t been able to devote much time to my search. And honestly, after reading about that bar girl, I haven’t wanted to.

But no matter the conflicting emotions tormenting me, no matter what else Tyler’s journal reveals, I’m sticking to my commitment. Because I’m still committed to him.

I refuse to let anything happen between Holden and me. I may have come to terms with my feelings for him in the past, and my conflicting feelings for him now, but that doesn’t mean he gets a free pass. I can accept that he was going through something difficult back then. And maybe he didn’t even mean to hurt me, but that’s still an obstacle between us.

And I’m not that girl.

Regardless of my guilty conscience where Tyler’s concerned, I am a free woman. I’m free to be with someone else. I understand the logic of it, even if my heart is struggling.

Holden, though. No. I can’t let my heart hope for anything between us. I’m not the girl who gets treated like shit by the * just to run back into his arms to have it done all over again. I hate those girls.

Grow a pair.

Skimming Tyler’s words, I start reading when I glimpse a section about a fight between him and Holden. My heart lurches.

A fight about me.

It was after Holden came back from boarding school. Huh. I flip back through quickly, thinking I missed a section. There’s a gap in the timeline. I shake my head and then read hurriedly. Holden doesn’t take long showers.

Oh, God. My eyes take in every word slowly. Rereading and then reading again. Tyler had suspicions about me and Holden, and followed his brother to the dead tree that day we met there. The day we kissed for the first and last time.

He saw everything. He didn’t just suspect. He knew. And he never said a word to me.

But he did to Holden.

I flip a couple of pages, and my chest constricts. The next time Holden met me at the tree and told me there was nothing between us, Tyler knew about that, too. And he knew the reason why.

Hearing the bathroom door squeak open, I lay the journal next to me on the chair. My eyes snap to Holden. I must be in shock, and maybe he is, too. Or maybe it’s the expression on my face. I don’t know. But . . .

He loved me.

In Tyler’s own words, according to his own account, Holden Marks was in love with me.

And he gave me up for his brother.

He loved me.

“Sam?” Holden’s voice is low, edgy. “What’s wrong?”

I only know one way to answer him. I’m on my feet and racing before my brain can catch up with my body. Then I’m slamming into him with full force. My arms go around his neck, pulling his face toward mine, my lips crashing into his.





Holden

Shock freezes me in place. My brain empties. And then I grasp Sam’s neck and her back, pulling her body closer to mine before I realize what I’m doing.

Her tongue darts into my mouth, and every nerve in my body combusts. My hand is in her wet hair, my fingers entwining, gripping, angling her head back as I meet her hungry kiss with the raw and unstoppable need setting my body on fire.

Then with a biting clarity, rational thought splinters through my head. I want to beat the shit out of it. With an ache in my chest and groin, I pull back and break the kiss. Pushing through a shaky breath, I ask, “What are you doing?”

Fuck. Yes, those words did just leave my mouth. But I can’t let her do this. She’s been through too much in too short a time. Her emotions and mind are all messed up.

Her arms are still locked around my neck, and her chest is rising and falling with her heavy breaths. “Just answer me one thing,” she says, and I swallow, terrified of what she wants to know. I force a nod, my movement stiff.

“There’re things you can’t tell me. I get that. But I think I deserve to know just one.” She blinks hard, and I watch as fear covers her eyes. “Did you ever love me?”

The world shifts under my feet. And I don’t know if it’s because I’m relieved or angry she asked that. Relieved because she didn’t ask the one thing I can’t tell her, or angry because I’ve wanted to tell her so badly for so long, but if I admit the truth—it means I don’t deserve her.

My mouth parts, and before I can grasp a full, coherent thought, I hear myself say, “I never stopped loving you.”

She licks her lips, and my heart beats like a freight train. “Make love to me, Holden.”

And it’s my f*cking undoing.