Page 126 of The Hearts We Fumble
“I was wondering…” she starts, hesitating just long enough for me to tense. “With everything Luca said about your father, and since we ran into him at Whiskey Sinner’s, have you thought about talking to him?”
A weighted silence fills the space between us.
The truth? Of course, I’ve thought about it.
A few months ago, you couldn’t have paid me to go anywhere near that asshole. After the way he used my relationship with Wyatt against me, how he twisted Myla’s name into a tabloid headline just to get under my skin, I don’t know how I feel about him.
Or if I ever will.
Luca may be my father’s son, but I don’t know if he wants to admit it. Hell, I don’t even know if I want to.
“I mean, yeah, I’ve thought about it,” I mutter, rubbing a hand over my face. “But I don’t know…”
Wyatt adjusts the camera, finally looking at me. “What’s holding you back?”
I should’ve seen that coming. She has a way of peeling back the layers I try to keep hidden. It’s why I pushed her away for so long before. Why I once thought distance would make it easier.
I huff out a breath. “What the hell am I supposed to do with this, Wyatt? Finding out my dad has a whole other kid, a secretlove child—with his ex-mistress, no less? And I sayexlike I actually know for sure, but who the hell knows? He’s spent his whole life covering up his messes. This one just happened to make itself known.”
Wyatt presses her lips together, watching me carefully. “I get it, Zane. I do. But don’t you think, at least a little, that none of this is Luca’s fault? He didn’t ask to be James’s son. He sure as hell didn’t ask to be a secret. His dad made him change his last name to protecthimself. Can you imagine what that does to someone? How that messes with your head?”
A dull ache settles in my chest, the weight of her words hitting harder than I want them to.
“He might not have asked to be here,” I admit, jaw tightening, “but he made the choice to come after me. He used you to get under my skin. He spread lies about Myla just to hurt our family. That washischoice. And I’m just supposed to forget about it?”
Wyatt exhales, closing the lid to the toilet and sitting down, adjusting the camera so we’re face-to-face.
“No,” she says simply. “I’m not saying you should forget it. I’m saying maybe—maybe—you should hear him out. Let him explain.”
I swallow hard, my throat dry. “Even if I do, I don’t think I’ll ever trust him. For all I know, he could turn around and use whatever he learns against me. Against my siblings. My mom has been hurt enough from his actions.”
Wyatt hesitates, her expression shifting like she’s choosing her words carefully.
“I don’t think this is about hurting you,” she murmurs. “I think he’s just taking his pain out on you. A part of him probably resents you, Zane. Not forwhoyou are but for the life you’ve had. For the opportunities you were given just by being James Kinnick’s son. The success you’ve built for yourself.”
I stare at her, my pulse hammering in my ears.
I don’t want to admit she might be right. That this might be more complicated than just who threw the first punch.
But I know Wyatt. She doesn’t say things just to say them.
I want to say,Yeah, and the pressure he put on me from the second I took my first breath—to be the perfect son, the perfect athlete, to live up to impossible expectations.
But I don’t.
Instead, I nod, keeping it simple. “I’ll think about it, okay? I promise.”
Wyatt studies me for a long moment, her gaze soft but searching. The love in her eyes makes everything else feel small. Like no matter what happens—whether I make it to the NFL or my career falls apart before it even begins—she’ll still be here. She’d stand beside me, help me pick up the pieces.
She’d help putmeback together.
The thought alone settles something deep in my chest. I don’t ever want to put that weight on her, but knowing I’ll never have to face any of this alone again? That does something to me.
She runs her fingers through her damp hair, flipping it to the side in that effortless way she does. I wish she were here. The urge to reach through the screen, to grab her by the chin and press my mouth to hers in a hard, claiming kiss, nearly drives me insane.
“What are you thinking about right now?” she asks, her voice softer, more curious than before. There’s something unreadable in her expression when she adds, “You got serious all of a sudden.”
I tilt my head, a slow smile creeping onto my face. “I’m thinking about how bad I wish you were here—so I could throw you on this bed and bury my face between those beautiful thighs.”
