Page 51 of I Should Hate You-but I Don't

She blew out her cheeks and nodded. "I hate this. Every day feels like my sister has died like my mom and my dad. I need to see her to believe she's still alive."

"Come here." He held his arms open.

She dropped her pack and approached him, wrapping herself around him. He rested his chin on the top of her head. There was no harm in comforting her.

"Kingsley would never give up on bringing your sister to you." He stroked her back.

When they found the girls, they agreed Zane would watch over River and Kingsley would care for Kenna. At the time, it was the easiest thing to do and took up less time—or so they thought.

As the years went by, Zane kept more and more to himself because he couldn't explain to his brother how he fell in love with River. He wasn't sure what Kingsley would think of him when the initial favor was to protect the girls.

He'd protected her from everyone but himself.

"Want to keep me company while I put my bike back together?" He looked into her eyes. "Then, we can grab dinner at the bar."

The sadness left her eyes, and she nodded. He retrieved the rolling stool and pointed for her to sit.

Going back to his Harley, he fell into a comfortable silence. River watched, content to spend time with him, and he no longer fumbled with the tools or grew agitated over every little hiccup.

After double-checking the oil level, he removed the stand and put the bike down. "Plug your ears," he said.

River held her hands over her ears. He started the Harley inside of the garage. The engine roared to an echoing rumble. He let it run for a few minutes, circulating the oil. He glanced at River and winked. She smiled in return. Her emotions played over her face, and he wondered if she'd ever give up on him.

Though he'd admit, having her in the garage felt good, doing nothing but keeping him company.

With the MC watching over the campground and bar, making sure no members from Valdone came on the property, he hadn't had time to tune his Harley. Now that it was done, he felt like he was getting on top of everything.

He got on the bike and rode it out of the garage, parking it in front of the building.

After he shut off the motorcycle, his hearing hummed. He walked inside, made sure everything was picked up, and then washed his hands at the back sink.

"Do you ever get tired of living in the garage?" She peered up at the loft.

There were two bedrooms, a bathroom, and a half-kitchen upstairs. It was enough for him and Kingsley. The house had always reminded him of his dad and the sacrifices he made. Spending time at the big house before River moved in was lonely.

"Nah." He motioned for her to step out of the garage, and he hit the button to close the overhead door. "I'm not here enough to get tired of it."

She shrugged on her backpack. He stopped in front of the house, giving her the chance to throw it inside where it would be safe, and she shook her head without him asking.

He continued walking, leading her through the front door. The back booth, reserved for him, was empty. He escorted Riverto the booth and waited until she sat before sliding in opposite of her.

She put her backpack between her and the wall on the booth seat.

"What do you feel like eating?" he asked.

"Fries." She gathered her hair at the back of her neck and put a hairband in.

"Burger?"

"Chicken strips." She rubbed her arms. "It feels nice and cool. The air conditioner in the bar is the best, even in the kitchen during the summer."

Higher daytime temperatures would only dry out the forest more. The risk of wildfires would increase.

Rebecca approached the table, carrying a notepad. "What can I get you tonight?"

"What's the special?" he asked.

"Meatloaf, mashed potatoes with a side of green beans. It comes with two dinner rolls and a salad."

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