Page 118 of Coco and the Misfits

“That was a long time ago. Thirty years ago, when I was twenty, the possibility felt like a weight crushing me. Now…” He laughs softly. “Now I’m ready. If it happens, I’m ready and would be glad to have them.”

Good to know. But what am I ready for?

42

COCO

When Zach appears next at my door, I almost laugh out loud.

“Hey, Coco.” He smiles, looking very debonair as he leans against the wall, his golden hair tousled, cheeks flushed. “Can I come in?”

“Yeah, come in. Come and tell me your tragic backstory.”

He frowns, stepping into my apartment. “Beg your pardon?”

“The reason why you pushed me away. Did you abandon your pack and have been carrying the guilt ever since, like Atticus? Or is it the guilt of causing your parents’ death like Ryder?”

“What?” His eyes go round. “You’re not serious.”

“You three,” I mutter, unaccountably angry, “banded together to pretend you were courting me for some reason but didn’t sit to talk to each other? Didn’t try to get to know each other? Why doesn’t it surprise me? Such a male, macho thing to do.”

“Damn…” He’s rubbing the back of his neck. “You are serious.”

I throw my purse into a corner and stomp into the living room. “You wanted to talk. All of you want to talk now. When I wanted to talk, you shut me out!”

“You’re right.”

Turning around, I confront him. He steps close to me, too close, and putting my hands on that washboard stomach, I give him a shove. “I know I’m right!”

“Good,” he says softly, “shove me, hit me. Hit me like I showed you to hit, girl. I deserve it.”

“No.” I shake my head and step away. “Sit. Tell me your story. I want to know.”

“My story… I don’t have one.”

I lift my brows. “No excuses then? For running away from me twice and then ignoring me?”

“I’m so fucking sorry for that.” He hangs his head, looking like a punished puppy. Okay, a tall, muscular, golden puppy. “I don’t have a story, but I have my reasons.”

“Oh, great.”

“And I’ll tell you what they were. It’s just… embarrassing.”

Dammit, I’m intrigued again. I sit down on the sofa. “Embarrassing?”

His cheeks flush red. “It makes me look… immature.”

Now I want to laugh. He looks genuinely distressed about it and at the same time, he looks damn cute. “Tell me.”

“But—”

“You came here to tell me about it, right?”

“Fuck, it’s true.” He huffs a breath of a laugh. “I came to debase myself to you, tell you my little story and crawl on my knees to you.”

I blink. “You did?”

“So here I am.” Gracefully, he goes down on his knees and actually… crawls toward me. Like a tiger. A golden lion. He crawls until he reaches me, then sits back on his heels. “Coco… I’m so fucking sorry.”

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