Page 23 of Falling Like Stars

The thought feels automatic. Like a program that’s been running in the back of my mind for ten years. But before I can examine it, a flapping white-winged alien-monster divebombs me from out of the dark.

“Jesus Christ!” I shriek and jerk back to my end of the hot tub. The moth—a mutant, judging by its size—chases me. I let out a yelp and circle backward, toward Zach. “Dammit!”

“Don’t get it wet,” he says, laughing. “It won’t be able to fly.”

“And that’s a bad thing?” It’s still coming at me as I slosh around the hot tub like an idiot. “What is even happening right now?”

“Your fear is delicious to it.”

“You’re hilarious.” I cower behind Zach, gripping his shoulders and using him as a human shield as the white monstrosity ducks and weaves, as if the only place in all the world it wants to land is on my face. “How are you not freaking out?”

“One of us has to stay calm in a crisis.”

The moth flutters in front of Zach. He gently waves it away and it flies off—finally—to hover around one of the lights that line the path to the guest house.

I’m still gripping the bunched muscles of Zach’s bare shoulders that shake with his laughter.

“Not funny,” I say. “I’m going to be itchy for a week.”

Zach slowly turns. My hands fall away. My back is to his side of the tub; his tall, half-naked body inches from me. Luminous hazel eyes—alit with laughter—find mine and his gaze seems to sink inside me.

“That was fun,” he says.

“Says you,” I retort weakly.

My hands are floating between us, still wanting to touch him. His gaze drops to my mouth for a moment, then back up, and now my heart is pounding for different reasons. Shit, is he going to kiss me? Am I going to kiss him? Do I want to?

Yes…

My phone, on the other side of the cement, lights up.

“Excuse me,” I say thickly. “I’m just going to…”

I move away from the heat and presence of Zach and read the text.

Hey beautiful. Round three?

I should type yes. I should tell Clay I’ll be there in twenty and get the hell out of this tub with Zachary Butler and his beautiful eyes and charisma that makes it hard to think. I don’t get to be with good men; that ship has sailed. But suddenly, the thought of spending the night with Clay after being with Zach makes me sick to my stomach.

Slowly, I set the phone to silent and turn around. Zach’s gaze hasn’t changed its level of intensity, but he’s wearing a knowing grin that makes my insides twist in a good way.

I cross my arms and try to sarcasm my way out of this feeling. “Can I help you?”

“We had a moment just now. Didn’t we?”

Shit.

“No, we did not.” I reach for the wine glass but it’s empty, and I can’t trust my hand to refill it.

“I think we did,” Zach says.

“I think you’re imagining things.”

He cocks his head, his grin as brilliant as ever. “Are we? I don’t know, I’m pretty sure that was a little something.”

God, how easy it would be to glide back to him. To put my arms around him again, this time face to face, body pressed to body, and just let something happen. Something clean and good…

Is that something you deserve? After the way you let Josh down? There’s no coming back from that.

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