Still the One Read online

  Since the only words she had clogging her throat were please and don’t, she kept her mouth shut tight, holding herself taut until the door clicked quietly behind him.

  She stared at it, stunned. She hadn’t taken one important fact into account. AJ didn’t want to be tied down any more than she did. Good to know. Clearly they’d had their roll between the sheets and it had been good.

  Hell, it had been great.

  And he’d given her back something she hadn’t realized she’d been ready for—intimacy. She’d never forget and she’d always be beholden to him for that, but … it was done now.

  So done.

  And because it was, she needed to find a way to seal off the feelings and sensations he’d awakened in her. Because if she didn’t care, she couldn’t lose. She’d learned that a long time ago and it was the gift that kept on giving.

  That decided, she slipped out of the bed and turned on every single light before curling up into the chair in the corner to wait for dawn.

  Twenty

  They were both quiet on the way home. Normal for AJ, who liked to relax into a driving zone and enjoy the quiet anyway. But definitely not normal for Darcy, who he doubted could find a zone to save her life.

  Twice he stopped for her to stretch her legs and twice he asked if she wanted to drive, hoping to goad her out of her own head.

  She’d declined with a polite shake of her head and an unspoken fuck you.

  And then she’d sat there in painted-on black jeans, kick-ass boots, and a Lynyrd Skynyrd tank, attitude personified.

  When he pulled up in front of her house she slipped into her sweater and was out of the truck before it came to a full stop, her long legs striding away from him as fast as they would take her.

  “Darcy—” He didn’t know what to say. Sorry I left your room so abruptly, I needed to process what the hell happened between us? No. Way too pussy. “I—”

  It didn’t matter because she was out.

  He threw the truck into park and started to get out to go after her—to say what, he still had no idea. All he knew was that he wasn’t done with this, with her.

  Except apparently he was.

  Because a guy rose from the bottom step of the porch where he’d been sitting, clearly waiting for her.

  Xander.

  Darcy dropped her duffel bag and walked right into his arms.

  AJ did his best not to react, swallowing the growl that rose in his throat as he peeled out of there like the hounds of hell were on his heels.

  Clearly there was no need to worry about her. She was like a cat with nine lives. No matter what happened to her, no matter what she went through, she landed on her feet.

  “You’re an idiot,” he said out loud.

  When Xander went to lower Darcy to the ground, she winced in anticipation of the bolt of agony she knew would shoot up her legs per usual when she first put all her weight on them. But Xander was slow and careful, sweetly so.

  “Okay?” he asked, hands still on her. “You don’t look okay. What happened?”

  What happened? She’d gotten into the whole pretending to be in love with AJ thing, that’s what. And it had felt good. Right. And in turn, she’d felt … happy.

  And it had scared the shit out of her, and when she got scared, she tended to self-destruct. “Nothing.”

  “Bullshit.”

  Darcy turned from him and stared down the street where AJ’s truck had vanished.

  He hadn’t been able to drive away fast enough.

  Xander tugged lightly on a strand of her hair, waiting for her to look at him. “Do I need to kill him?” he asked seriously.

  He was tall but lanky as a bean pole, and a good wind could knock him over. So she choked out a laugh and then to her horror, burst into tears.

  “Oh shit,” Xander said, looking pained as he pulled her back into him. “Darcy, please don’t cry.”

  “I’m not,” she said soggily. “I never cry.” And yet the waterworks continued.

  “Shit,” he said again with more feeling this time, and sank back to the steps with her, holding her close while she bawled into his chest.

  “It’s just allergies,” she finally managed to say.

  “Right. Allergies.”

  Behind them the front door opened and Zoe stood there looking stunned to see Darcy curled into a ball against Xander. “What happened?” she demanded. “What’s wrong?”

  “I don’t know,” Xander said in utter male confusion. “But I know it’s AJ’s fault.”

  Zoe sank to the step next to them and put her hand on Darcy’s back. “Talk to me.”

  But Darcy couldn’t talk. Because what could she possibly say? She’d finally started to feel again, for a man who’d been there, bought the T-shirt, and was over it?

  “Soon as she dries up,” Xander said over Darcy’s head, “I’m going over there to kick his ass.”

  “Yeah?” Zoe asked. “You might want to eat a cheeseburger first.”

  Xander flipped her off and she rolled her eyes. “Get in line,” she said and stroked Darcy’s hair. “Do we need to call in the Coast Guard?”

  That was Zoe. Pragmatic. Steady as a rock.

  Suspicious.

  And to be fair, it wasn’t Zoe’s fault. She’d grown up a child of the world and then she’d nearly married a felon with a talent for telling really good fibs. So yeah, Zoe kept a pretty big chip on her shoulder, along with a damn tough hide that no mortal man had been able to break through in ages. She also had a hell of a bullshit meter, hard-earned.

  Darcy sat up and scrubbed at her eyes. “Nothing’s wrong, I’m just tired.”

  “Yeah?” Zoe asked, clearly not buying it. “Because the last time you cried was when you found out there wasn’t an Easter Bunny.”

  “Well, that was pretty traumatic,” Darcy said in her defense. “Who was going to bring me candy?”

  “You know damn well it was always me and Wyatt leaving you the candy.”

  This was true. When they’d been traveling the world with their parents they’d never celebrated any American holiday. They’d never celebrated any holiday.

  So naturally whenever they’d been here in Sunshine with their grandparents, they’d gone overboard. And when their grandparents had died within two years of each other a decade ago, Wyatt and Zoe had kept up the tradition as often as they were all together.

  Which hadn’t been all that often.

  Until recently.

  “What’s this about AJ needing his ass kicked?” Zoe asked her.

  “He doesn’t. If anyone needs their ass kicked, it’s me. At the very least I need my head examined for agreeing to go with him in the first place.”

  “You two have a fight?” Zoe asked.

  Darcy shrugged and dropped eye contact. The one person she’d never been able to lie to was her nosy-ass sister. “Nothing more than the usual.”

  “Hmm,” Zoe said, which she uttered whenever she was thinking something she wasn’t ready to say out loud. Zoe then slid a glance at Xander before coming back to Darcy.

  Yep. Whatever she had to say couldn’t be said in front of Xander.

  Confirming that, Zoe stood up and headed to the front door.

  “Hey,” Xander said after her. “You’re not going to get out of her what happened?”

  “No,” Zoe said.

  “Why not?”

  “Hello, have you met her?” Zoe asked. “She never talks until she’s ready. Darcy, honey, I need your help in here.”

  “Doing what?” Zoe didn’t need help, ever.

  “Rearranging the stock cabinet,” Zoe answered. “You know, where we keep all of our feminine hygiene products like tampons and panty liners. Xander, you’re welcome to come in and help if you’d like.”

  Xander paled. “Uh …” He looked like he’d rather have his nuts surgically removed. Without drugs. “Can’t, sorry.” Darcy snorted and stood up, carefully stretching to avoid any cramping in her legs. “Go home, Xander. Sorry I cried