Gravity (Wilde Boys, #1)

by Sara Cate

I never expected her to be like this. To be the bravest fucking person I ever met. She’s not afraid of anything. And it only makes me want to scare her more.

“I fucking love you, Zara York,” I mumble into her hair. She wraps her arms around my waist, apparently more awake than I thought. “I fucking love you too, Nash Wilde.”

“Scared of what?” His tone is cold and commanding, his brow taut and his nostrils flared. “Of falling,” I whisper. “When you fall for two men...you’re bound to have your heart broken.” “So, you left me,” he replies, and it’s not a question. “Because you scare me the most,” I answer in a soft breath. The kitchen is silent except for our gentle whispers. His thumb brushes my bottom lip as he leans down to kiss me. “Zara, Zara, Zara,” he whispers. “What have I taught you about facing your fears?”

“This is crazy, Alistair.” He smiles too, but then he kisses the smile right off my face. I may still be sore from my night with Nash, but I’m already ready to climb back into Alistair’s bed. “You’re telling me? I heard you all night with my son, Zara. And all I can think is...I can do better than that.” He yanks my hips closer, grinding himself against me.

“Thanks, Dad,” I mumble into my coffee and he snaps his head in my direction. I wait quietly for his reaction to see if he’s going to be legit offended or find it funny, but he just bites his lip and stalks toward me slowly, pinning me against the counter. Putting his hands on either side of me on the counter, he leans his face down to my ear. “If we’re going to play that game, get it right. It’s Daddy to you.”

“What is it?” I ask. After a heavy gulp, he turns it around so I can see what looks like a messy sketch of a helicopter on a thick piece of graph paper. “It’s my first design,” he mutters quietly, bringing his fist to his mouth. “I did this in high school. Where did you get this?”

“Thank you, Nash.” “You’re welcome,” he responds. I wait patiently, staring at the two of them before they finally stand and embrace in a strong hug. My hand flies up to my mouth, tears pooling again. This is their first hug in two years, and it only lasts for a moment before they both sit back down. Alistair won’t look at me, he keeps his eyes down on his present, blinking heavily like he’s fighting the urge to cry too.

“What’s next on the agenda of this wholesome family Christmas?” he asks with a smile. I turn toward Alistair, reaching out to take his hand. He twists his fingers around mine, staring into my eyes. “I don’t know. What did your family do on Christmas growing up?” I ask. He lifts his almost empty glass, tossing it down his throat and saying, “Get drunk.” Nash and I lift our glasses and laugh. “Good plan.”

“Every time he touches you, I want to make you forget him. Am I so fucked up because I like to watch you with him? Because then I know I get to fuck you harder.”

“Nash,” I gasp, his lips finding their way to my mouth. We’re no longer dancing. Fuck I don’t even know if my legs are holding me up. Then, he breaks the kiss, spinning me around so I’m facing Alistair across the room on the couch. His eyelids are heavy, and he’s staring at me with intensity, his drink clutched tightly in his hands. Nash’s mouth is next to my ear again. “Look, he’s thinking the same thing I am. You’re caught between two alphas, Zara. What have you gotten yourself into?”

“You’re getting your private pilot license?” “Of course I am,” I argue. “I’ve gone through all the fucking trouble to learn. I want it to be official.” His brow creases as he stares down at me. “I’ve seen you two out there. I didn’t think there was any learning going on. At least not about flying.”

At the funeral, I turned everything off that I could. I didn’t think. I didn’t feel. My eyes could not absorb the sights, Preston’s picture on the stage, the absence of a casket, my parents with tears running down their cheeks, my son engulfed in an anger that would never fade. The girl bawling into her hands across the aisle. There were so many images from that day that found their way into my memory, and her face throughout the service was one of them. I hated the pain she emitted, but I made myself watch it. I wanted to punish myself with her grief.

“Does it even fucking matter? The only reason I chose to share is because I knew you’d try to fuck her anyway. She’d be sneaking out of my bed to go to yours, wouldn’t she? You clearly don’t care about boundaries where your son’s girlfriends are involved.” Growing irritated, I lean closer but my volume goes up. “Is this about the night of the ballet? She wasn’t your girlfriend then, Nash.” When he turns toward me, his voice seething with hatred, my blood goes cold. “I’m not talking about Zara.”

“So you break up with him, you don’t—god dammit.” “I’m sorry,” she cries. “Cover up, Emma.” I manage to make it a little less harsh as I hand her the T-shirt she was wearing. “What’s wrong with me?” Her voice is a little louder than I’d like it to be, so I sit down next to her and put a hand on her shoulder. Fuck, I’m not good at this. I need to get her out of here so I can pretend it never fucking happened. “Emma, you’re a beautiful girl.” “But you want to fuck my sister.” She sniffles. “Your sister isn’t dating my son.”

“You’re pushing me because you want me to act like a monster, don’t you, Zara? You don’t want to be the only one that’s fucked up.” Fighting against his hold, I don’t look at him as I cry. “Nash, you’re as fucked up as I am.” “Tell me you give a shit about me, Zara and I won’t fuck you against this bed like I fucking hate you.”

“I hate you,” I cry, and it feels like I’m drowning in my tears as they cascade down to my hair. “Oh, I know you fucking hate me. Not as much as you hate yourself, right? Is being with me enough of a punishment for you?”

“Tell her right now. Don’t make her choose until she knows the truth. All of it.”

“Tell her what happened the night before the crash, Dad. Tell her what you did.” After another moment of silence, his voice booms, shaking me to the bone. “Now!”

“I couldn’t sleep the night before the crash. I was up at two in the morning. Standing right there in the kitchen, I heard someone having sex. I heard the moans. Then I saw her come out of his room.” Alistair flinches, but I feel like I’m hearing pieces to a story, and I can’t make any connections. Alistair had a girl over the night before the crash? Why would Nash be mad about that? “Before she went back to Preston’s room,” Nash adds, and my eyes snap to him.

“I thought it was you,” Alistair says, his voice low and strangled. “I don't understand,” I snap loudly. “He fucked Emma!” When Nash yells those words, I know it’s not a lie. I know by the tears building in Alistair’s eyes and the look of remorse on his face as he stares at me that it’s true. “No.”

Alistair steps toward me, and on instinct I move away. I search his face for love, comfort, connection, but I only see a stranger. A liar. Hate.

I’m allowed to move on with my life. I know that now. Fuck, I didn’t sit through six weeks of therapy for nothing, but they don’t tell you how hard it is to do the shit you say you’re going to do. I’m officially older than my brother now—my big brother. That thought doesn’t settle easily.

“What do you think they would say? If they saw us now?” Zara swallows a pained expression as her gaze follows mine, settling on the view over the city. “Emma would say, ‘Geez, Zar, what the hell took so long?’” she says in her sister’s slightly higher pitched voice. I can’t help but laugh. “Preston would call me a loser, for sure. He’d tell me to find a hot Dutch girl, and to tell dad to fuck off from him.”

“I don't have anything new to offer this company. Why don’t I just hand it over to someone who can take it to the next level?” When I turn around from my stove, my son is staring at me with his brow pinched in anger. “You tell me I have to move on, and I have to start thinking about my future and you sit there and act like your life is already over. The dad I knew didn’t pass things along or act like anyone could do a better job than him. You built Wilde from the ground up. You knew innovation then, and you can still learn it now. So stop acting like you’re done. You’re not fucking done.”

“I’m not doing that bad.” “The fuck you aren’t.” “Nash, things between Zara and I were… I shouldn’t have—” I keep trying to stammer my way through the excuses, but he’s not buying them. “Do you know why I agreed to do what we did? When we brought her back to Del Rey, I was jealous, sure, but I kept the whole thing up because Zara was the only thing that kept us together. She was the only thing that kept you together, and I liked seeing you so happy—even if I was a dick about it. She was never meant for me, Dad. She was meant for you...”

“Find you?” he asks, and I stare at him in shock. “When she left, did you beg her to stay? When I asked to share her, did you even put up a fight? Dad, she’s not going to come find you. She probably doesn’t even realize you still want her.”

“I know I fucked up, Zara. You deserved the truth back then, and I should have fought for you when I had the chance, so I’m glad you aren’t forgiving me right away. Don’t take me back, not yet. Make me work for it, baby” “I don’t want your money,” I whisper, trying to keep my head held high. He smiles. “Oh, this won’t be about money.”

The author died a few years ago, but I was able to find a signed copy for you. It was a fucked up love story, but I think you like fucked up love stories.

“I missed you,” I cry against his kiss. “We’re home, baby,” he replies, and I smile.

It’s not the house or the island that he means. I know that now. This place might hold a lot of memories for us and represent the good and the bad, but this place is not home. He is my home, and I am his. For so long I felt like I was falling, but this man pulled me in. And finally, I have landed.

their graduation.” “So...you want more kids?” He reaches down, taking my face in his hands and kissing me softly on the mouth. “I want everything with you.” “Now?” I gasp, tears springing to my eyes. “Ready when you are.”