Wrapped in You (The Monroes 1)

She straightened and faced him. “I just meant that with Chelsea gone, you guys still have each other, and it’s not like any of the Monroe boys are going to call me up to go shoe shopping or to go watch the latest chick flick.”

“Braxton might. He’s a sucker for those damn movies.”

Sophie smiled. “You know what I mean.”

On a sigh, Zach nodded. “Listen, I know there’s been tension between us. Just because Chelsea is gone, doesn’t mean we’re all not still friends.”

Sophie stared at those dark eyes, so intense and mesmerizing. The sprinkling of chest hair, the tattoo, and the random scar were spellbinding as well. But she had to concentrate on what he said . . . and then use his words against him.

“Are we friends, Zach? Because that’s not the vibe I’ve been getting from you.”

He continued to hold her still with just his gaze as he raked a palm over his beard. The bristling sound against his hand had her trembling. She knew what that coarse hair felt like against her skin, her lips, and she craved more.

“We’re friends, Sophie,” he muttered. “I’ve let you in about as much as I’ve let anyone.”

He’d let her in? In what? His house? Certainly not his life. Could one person be that closed off from the world? Other than Liam and Braxton, Zach really didn’t have people deeply rooted in his life. His business didn’t count. No doubt he even kept his employees at arm’s length.

“Wow, you really aren’t a people person, are you?”

Shaking her head, she reached for the binders, because this conversation was going nowhere fast and she had somewhere to be. Getting into a verbal sparring match each time she saw him was only going to make this process more difficult.

Clutching the binders, she turned and smacked into Zach’s chest. “Excuse me.”

He didn’t move. He didn’t speak. He didn’t touch her. The man simply stared down at her as if he was trying to figure out the next move in this delicate game of chess.

“What?” she whispered, afraid he’d say something that made her more confused . . . afraid he’d say nothing and let her walk away. “You can’t keep doing this to me.”

His hands came up to cover hers. “What am I doing?”

“I need a truce. You want to be friends, fine. But you can’t look at me like that, you can’t push me away with your words and draw me back in with a look. I deserve better than to be yanked around.”

Zach’s hands tightened on hers briefly before dropping away. “You’re right. You do deserve better.”

When he stepped back, Sophie cursed herself. “You’re taking my words wrong.”

Zach walked to the front door, his eyes on the death grip he had on the knob. “No, I’m taking them exactly how I should. You do deserve better, Soph. Better than anything I could give, friendship or otherwise. Sometimes I need to be reminded of that.”

Forgetting the binders, the open house, the outside world entirely, Sophie dumped the binders onto the couch and crossed to Zach. Grabbing his broad shoulders, she forced him to turn and face her. No way was she leaving him here to beat up on himself.

But before she could utter a word, he’d taken back control of the situation and himself. Framing her face with his rough palms, he backed her against the door and came nose to nose with her.

“You can’t touch me,” he murmured against her lips. “I barely hold it together when I’m with you. Can’t you see that? I don’t know how else to warn you.”

“You’d never hurt me.”

His thumb stroked her bottom lip. “I already have.”

Anger bubbled through her. “Get past it, Zach. You’ve done your penance.”

His forehead came to rest on hers. “I pay it every time I see you, think of you.”

“Why do you do this to yourself?” Her heart literally ached for him. “Why can’t you just take what you want? What we want?”

The all-consuming ache for him to close that miniscule gap and kiss her was killing her. She could practically taste him, yet he still held himself back.

“Because selfish needs stole everything ten years ago.”

When he pushed away, Sophie took a moment to process his words as she stared at his back. “If that’s how you truly feel, then you should’ve stayed in prison. It’s no different than the steel walls you’ve put around yourself, only this time you’re the guard. You refused to see me for a full year.”