The Darkest Part (Living Heartwood 1)

I blink, and Holden swallows. His hand is still in my hair. His arm still wraps my waist. He closes his eyes and sets my feet on the ground. The spell is broken.

The spray of nearly scalding water washes away the club from my skin. But the pathetic pressure from the showerhead isn’t enough to blast away the confusing and consuming thoughts from my head.

Reaching for the nozzle, I adjust the temperature even hotter, trying to scorch my body and brain clean.

Since Melody and her biker peeps are headed back on the road tonight, Mel wanted us to follow them to another bar for drinks. But after the show, I was done. I told her we’d try to catch up with them again later, and I meant it. I haven’t had that much fun in a long time.

But as I stand in the shower, just a curtain and door separating me from Holden, I wonder if I made the right call.

Yes. I did. Alcohol would’ve been a bad idea. My head is still swimming just from breathing in Holden’s scent. Being so close to him, touching. I clamp my eyes closed. “Stop,” I whisper. Now I’m talking to myself. Great.

I just need to go to bed and put an end to this day. So much has happened, and my brain is spinning. I turn off the water and then wrap myself in a towel. Leaving my hair wet, I yank on my sleeping pants (best to cover all skin) and a tee. Then I stare into the mirror and nod once. Nothing sexy about me. I open the door and walk out, determined to act casual.

Holden’s spread out on top of the comforter on the king bed, watching the flat screen. “I’m done,” I say, and hate that my voice wobbles. He offered me the shower first. I accepted, needing to wash his scent off right away.

With a groan, he pushes himself up and off the bed. “Thanks.”

I dash to my bed so that as he passes, I’m nowhere near him. I’m acting like an idiot. Real casual. I’m sure he’s not as rattled by me. Recalling how carried away he’d gotten when we danced at the club, I decide it’s the same thing. The atmosphere at the show was intense. The Misfits are one of his favorites, and hearing a cover probably got him worked up.

I nod to myself, then roll my eyes.

The shower turns on, and I bite my lip. To take my mind further off tonight, I dig Tyler’s journal out of my pack. With everything that’s happened in the past two days, I haven’t been able to devote much time to my search. And honestly, after reading about that bar girl, I haven’t wanted to.

But no matter the conflicting emotions tormenting me, no matter what else Tyler’s journal reveals, I’m sticking to my commitment. Because I’m still committed to him.

I refuse to let anything happen between Holden and me. I may have come to terms with my feelings for him in the past, and my conflicting feelings for him now, but that doesn’t mean he gets a free pass. I can accept that he was going through something difficult back then. And maybe he didn’t even mean to hurt me, but that’s still an obstacle between us.

And I’m not that girl.

Regardless of my guilty conscience where Tyler’s concerned, I am a free woman. I’m free to be with someone else. I understand the logic of it, even if my heart is struggling.

Holden, though. No. I can’t let my heart hope for anything between us. I’m not the girl who gets treated like shit by the asshole just to run back into his arms to have it done all over again. I hate those girls.

Grow a pair.

Skimming Tyler’s words, I start reading when I glimpse a section about a fight between him and Holden. My heart lurches.

A fight about me.

It was after Holden came back from boarding school. Huh. I flip back through quickly, thinking I missed a section. There’s a gap in the timeline. I shake my head and then read hurriedly. Holden doesn’t take long showers.

Oh, God. My eyes take in every word slowly. Rereading and then reading again. Tyler had suspicions about me and Holden, and followed his brother to the dead tree that day

we met there. The day we kissed for the first and last time.

He saw everything. He didn’t just suspect. He knew. And he never said a word to me.

But he did to Holden.

I flip a couple of pages, and my chest constricts. The next time Holden met me at the tree and told me there was nothing between us, Tyler knew about that, too. And he knew the reason why.

Hearing the bathroom door squeak open, I lay the journal next to me on the chair. My eyes snap to Holden. I must be in shock, and maybe he is, too. Or maybe it’s the expression on my face. I don’t know. But . . .

He loved me.

In Tyler’s own words, according to his own account, Holden Marks was in love with me.

And he gave me up for his brother.