Gravity (Wilde Boys, #1)

by Sara Cate

Shortly after Emma died, I bought a box of store-brand black dye and I erased her from my appearance. Because this wasted girl in the mirror doesn’t deserve to look like my sister.

When my phone buzzes on the coffee table, I simply respond with a growling, “Hmm.” What kind of psychopath calls? Send a text like a real person.

“It’s ironic that you’re here to make me better when the things

want to do to you are the worst things I’ve ever wanted to do.”

If we have not found the heaven within, we have not found the heaven without.

I think back to that day and try to remember the last thing my son ever said to me. It’s all such a blur. The accident eclipsed everything else, and just remembering that day, the very moment my world tilted off its axis, hollows out my chest even more.

When I came outside after the day on the jet-skis, I felt good about Zara. Things felt different, like I could actually share a connection with another human being, the first one in a long time. Then I saw her with him. He thinks I’m an idiot. I saw the way he looked at her every time she came out before Preston died.

“Your body is not your power, Zara, and those men don’t see you. I see you, and maybe I shouldn’t say that because you’re with Nash, but I’m saying it anyway. You’re a tough girl, and your body is beautiful, but if you think it’s the most powerful thing you have, you’re selling yourself short.”

“You know what’s weird, though? I think you’re helping him as much as you’re helping me, and he doesn’t even know it. Having someone to teach how to fly again, having someone at the house balance out all the anger between us.” He presses a kiss to my forehead before he settles his head on the pillow, pulling me to his chest. “And I honestly wonder which of us needs you more.”

It’s just another way we’re getting through, a band aid for our bullet wounds, and I know it’s not built to last. I see what he needs, and I crave the crazy he can unleash.

Alistair is hiding his pain behind walls just like Nash and I are, and if what he said is true, that I’m

strong enough to handle Nash...am I strong enough to handle him too?

“Well, then just try to keep your clothes on when my mother serves the turkey.” “Very funny,” I snap. “I’m being serious.”

“Then, I’d hold you all night. I’d close every damn shutter in the house and pretend night never ended so I could hold you more.”

“When did this happen? I never saw this coming,” she whispers. I want to tell her that this happened a long time ago for me. Four years to be exact. The first time she stepped foot on my island, I was ruined. I made a promise to myself that I would never touch her because I knew then she’d fucking ruin me. She would be my downfall, my biggest distraction, and I was right. Even before we touched, I was helpless.

“When I’m with you, it doesn’t hurt so much,” she whispers, and suddenly I’m swallowing knives.

Seeing this happy version of the boy I started lusting after four years ago has me feeling all sorts of crazy things. Like how I could happily live the rest of my life like this. How I think this love I’m feeling for him is real.

“Is it real to you, Nash? You said yourself you don’t want to care about me, remember? So tell me this is real to you and I’ll tell you it’s real to me.”

“Tell me you haven’t touched him, first.” It’s like a bullet to my heart. “Tell me you’d give up the money and stay with me,” he continues.

he leans in. “Exactly. I know whatever this is between us is fucked up, Zara, but I’m so fucking stuck on you anyway. I can’t seem to convince myself to let you go, but where the fuck do we go from here?”

“What the fuck is wrong with us?” he mutters. “Why do you assume there’s anything wrong with us?” We’re both still breathless, but I feel his voice echo through his chest. “Because for one nice minute today I felt what having a normal girlfriend would feel like, but then I remember you’re not here to be my girlfriend, and you’d probably be here with him.”

I don’t understand why Nash shuts himself out so much, why he denies his emotions, but as I lay against Nash’s body I realize that I am calling him out for being closed off when I’m the one who’s still thinking this is just a job.

This doesn’t feel like a job anymore. It hasn’t felt like a job in a while, but I’m having a hard time admitting that to myself. I feel more and more torn between them by the minute.

He pushes me, protects me, makes me feel safe, and I am tired of fighting against something I want so much. Call it daddy issues, I don’t care. I can’t walk away from him. I just can’t.

My heart is hoping for something I didn’t plan. I never wanted to fall for Alistair any more than Giselle wanted to fall for the prince,

but we can’t help who we love.

You think I’d bring just anyone here? You think you’re just anyone?” “What does that mean? Who am I to you?” I whisper, tears filling my eyes. Shoving my body against the wall, and pulling my face toward his, he attacks my lips with his as

he answers. “You’re everything to me.”

The man who doesn’t date, shoves his feelings away, and tries to buy his way out of anything uncomfortable is offering me his heart. I can hardly breathe. “You make me feel good, Zara, and I haven’t felt good in a long fucking time. When I’m with you, it hurts a little less. It doesn’t go away, but I don’t hate life so much when you look at me like you’re looking at me right now,” he says. The pain etched in his features sends shivers down my spine. Reaching up, I run my fingers along his brow and down his cheek. Now

that the walls are coming down, I see the pain underneath. “Am I allowed to be happy, Zara? Or is this my punishment? Loving you if I can’t have you.”

The world stops turning as soon as I see the tears fill his eyes. I love him. I love him so much I can hardly stand it. And suddenly it feels so obvious. His words cut so deep because I feel them too. Are we allowed happiness? I don’t say it, but I know Nash feels the same way. The three of us are bound by grief. The guilt for surviving the people we loved ...

“I’ve told you, Alistair. I don’t belong to Nash. I love him, yes, and I’m here to help him too, but I belong to you just as much as I belong to him.” “Do you hear how fucked up that is?” he says with a laugh, and I kiss him. “I don’t care how fucked up it is,” I mumble against his mouth. “Neither do I.”

Standing under the hot stream, I try to settle the warring emotions in my head, but they only get louder. These two men are going to tear me apart. They already are.

Without another word, I leave the penthouse and this amazing life that’s not meant for me, and I whisper goodbye to the happiness that was almost mine.

“Because I remembered how much you liked her. Every time she came to the house with Emma, I saw how you watched her. We all did. You were obsessed with her. I almost forgot she existed and when I needed a way to hurt you, I found her, and I fucked her. I made sure people got pictures of us together and posted them online so you’d see. I wanted you to know I still hated you.”

I can’t react. I’m fucking speechless with this sudden realization I might have brought Zara into this fucked up relationship only to get hurt by my own son. “Why would you do that?”

“I know you think she was only there for the money, but I promise you, she wasn’t. It was more than that to her. We’re her family, and Del Rey is her home. What else could possibly matter?”

And I decide to just let the words out I'm holding in because I may not be brave enough to say them tomorrow. “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.”

“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.”

All night I toss and turn, running over the situation in my head. I love having both of them but the casual ease of being with two men is wearing off, and I know my heart won’t let me pretend it’s so easy anymore. This deal has an expiration date, and I know it’s approaching.

I honestly can’t tell if I’m afraid of choosing or afraid I already have.

“Don’t let me go,” I murmur into the crook of his neck. “I won’t,” he answers, and I don’t know if he means it like I want. I never want him to let me go, never.

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...”

“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.”

“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.