Page 57 of Only in Your Dreams

“I don’t believe that. Not anymore.”

“Trust me, I would know—”

“It’s not possible, Zac. It’s total bullshit.”

He clamps his jaw against a counter argument. This is the part I might hate Connor most for. I’m a skeptic by nature, always have been. Still, I held out hope that this blink-and-you-fall, never-goes-away kind of love existed. I wanted it from Zac so badly back then, and again when I met Connor.

That optimism got me eyeballs-deep in emotional manipulation for six years of my life.

“I’m so fucking mad at myself, Zac. I should have known better. I should have left him. I was stupid enough to think the way he cared for me was genuine. I failed myself so fucking badly, I have no idea how to start trusting my own judgment.” My nose prickles painfully as I beat back tears. “So, tell me again how I’m not gullible and desperate.”

But Zac shakes his head and crouches at my feet again, bringing us almost at eye-level. After a moment’s hesitation, he reaches for my hands. “You are neither. You don’t own what he did to you, okay? None of that was your fault.” I open my mouth to argue, but he shakes his head. “Let me get this out. I can’t ever apologize enough for the part I played in it. I’ve been sorry since I left that night, and fuck, I think I’ll stay sorry until they put me in a grave one day. And to think you spent even a second of your life thinking you weren’t desired… I wouldn’t blame you for not believing me when I say this, but I desired you then. And if last weekend wasn’t indication enough, I desire you now.”

Well, shit. Here come the waterworks.

I’m aching for it to be true, from him of all people, but he’s right. I don’t believe him. I’m forbidding myself to believe him. My guard is up so high I can barely see around it, and that’s how it should be.

Before I can do anything more than clear my throat, catch my own tears, Zac scoops me up in his arms and falls back into his chair, cradling me in his lap. The space outside his office is deserted, silent save for the occasional muffled whistle we can hear from the field. Zac lets me cry uninterrupted tears into his shoulder, doing nothing but holding me to him for so long I lose track of time.

“You should be out on the field,” I say after a while, and my voice comes out scratchy, thick with tears though they’ve started to dry up. “This isn’t what I came for, I swear. I can’t believe I dumped this on you while you’re working.”

“I don’t give a shit about work right now.”

Zac smooths the hair off my face, tucks me closer, and sinks us down into the plushy chair. The effect is instantaneous. My body softens. Brain stops whirring. I can barely feel my own body, but his is warm, lulling me into the kind of peace I haven’t felt in a week.

The same way it did the night we’d been stalked by a wild animal. Every beat of his heart against my body seems to send a message to mine in its own morse code.

Safe here, safe here, safe here.

“Clover?” My eyes have started to close and I wrench them open to see Zac watching me drowsily. “You’re falling asleep.”

“You look sleepy, too,” I mumble, nuzzling his shoulder. I can’t seem to make myself care about boundaries right now.

I am so fucking tired.

“What if…”

I wrench my eyes open again. “Mm?”

Zac sinks deeper into his chair, taking me with him. He rests his head back, closes his eyes. “Do you think we can only fall asleep together?”

I frown, giving up on having my eyes open. I mean to tell him that’s ridiculous, that the sleep deprivation is getting to him. That it can’t be true.

But the words never make it out.

Chapter 14

Zac

ZAC:5121 Hillside Road.

ZAC:In case you feel like sleeping tonight.

I slam shut the playbook on my lap, staring out at the dark grounds and the moonlit waves rolling through the bay at the foot of the property.

Seems my brain is just as muddled at one in the morning as it is in broad daylight, which isn’t a great sign considering my job is hanging by a thread. Today’s abysmal practice was attended by my boss, Harry Nunez, whose patience and good humor apparently departed the school in the same cardboard box as my predecessor’s belongings.

This time, he decided to remind me how close I was to unemployment right there on the sideline, turning me into a sideshow in front of my entire team—my entire coaching staff. He knew what he was doing. Putting everyone on that field on high alert that if they didn’t get their shit together, they’d be leaving their so-called beloved coach hanging high and dry.