Because, of all four siblings, Zach had been closest to Chelsea. She always knew what to say, when to say it. She didn't let him mope or start to slip into self-pity over his past. She'd plunk right down on the window seat in his room and lay it out there. She'd been so wise as a teen, when she'd tell him the greatest days of his life were happening right now. The Monroes were the parents she'd always dreamed of, and if he was going to keep reflecting back on his past, he was stealing the joy from now.
Damn, she'd been right. And after their heart-to-heart talk, which always left him feeling stupid and ungrateful, she would either whip up a batch of cookies or ask if he wanted to head out on the dirt bikes. You just never knew what her mind would think up for fun. Chelsea was certainly not a predictable woman. But she was loyal and she'd loved with her whole heart.
There was no doubt in Zach's mind he'd not be able to get through her apartment without losing it. And with his unstable emotions now, he preferred not to have an audience.
He'd only broken down three times in his life: when each of his parents had passed, and when he turned Sophie away that first time she came to visit him in jail.
With Chelsea gone he was due for another, and he just preferred to be alone . . . like always.
* * *
Filtering through the clothes in Chelsea's closet was both painful and amusing. Sophie slid the hangers one after another across the bar, remembering different events with nearly each piece. Like the black halter dress Chelsea had deemed sexy and sure to get her a man. Too bad that when Chelsea set her eyes on the guy lounging at the bar, she'd made her way to him and fallen flat on her face, taking a waiter and a tray of drinks down with her. By the time she'd gotten to her feet, the man was gone and Sophie had nearly doubled over with belly-cramping laughter.
Sophie slid her hand over the shoulder of the purple sweater that she'd bought for Chelsea's last birthday. Seemed so silly now to look at the knitted garment. Sophie knew how much her friend loved purple and had bought the cardigan without hesitation. Had Sophie only known that was going to be Chelsea's last birthday, she would've bought something a hell of a lot more special than a useless, boring sweater.
She carefully slid the sweater from the hanger and folded it on the bed, next to some photos of them as teens and adults, as well as a pencil sketch of the Eiffel Tower Chelsea had framed and hung in her bedroom.
Sophie had been coming here on occasion since Chelsea's death to feel closer to her late friend. She and Chelsea had keys to each other's places because they often shared clothes. Not to mention the fact Chelsea had locked herself out multiple times. On the third time, she'd gotten Sophie a key since Sophie lived closer than Chelsea's brothers.
Today was the first day Sophie opted to start collecting minute items that represented the final thread linking their friendship. She'd make sure Braxton and Liam were okay with the items she wanted to take. If Zach wanted to weigh in, that was fine too, but she wasn't seeking him out for permission.
Refusing to dive back into a Zach memory, Sophie turned back to the closet. There were shoes haphazardly thrown onto the floor, but it was the stack of black binders nestled in the corner that caught her attention.
A part of Sophie felt like an intruder going through all of Chelsea's things. The other part knew Chelsea wouldn't mind one bit. The woman had been so carefree, letting nothing in life really disturb her. Besides, the two were as close as sisters and shared everything. Chelsea would want Sophie to have some things to remember her by.
Shifting the assortment of sneakers, boots, and flip-flops aside, Sophie pulled the binders from the closet. She'd just walked into the main room and set the thick folders on the dining table when keys jingled against the apartment door.
Startled, she cautiously moved toward the couch, where she'd put her purse, which contained pepper spray. Her eyes remained fixed on the knob, which she'd locked, but now it jiggled as an unknown tried to get in.
Did someone know this apartment sat empty and was coming to steal? More than likely she'd just watched too many criminal shows and it was just the landlord or maintenance . . . she had heard keys clanging, after all.
The door opened and the second Sophie saw a thick forearm leading to a wide shoulder, she dove for her purse. Unfortunately, she tripped when her hip gave out on her, and she fell to the floor behind the couch.
“What the hell?”
The familiar male voice only added to her humiliation. The man who let himself in wasn't the landlord, the maintenance man, or even a would-be burglar. Sophie would've rather faced any of those than the man who rounded the sofa and now stared down at her as she struggled to her feet.
“Sophie.” He looked worried as his brows drew in. As he crouched down to her, his eyes raked over her body. “Let me help you.”
Pushing off the plush carpet, Sophie refused to meet his eyes or even think of the concern she'd seen flash through them. “I'm fine.”
“You fell.”
“I tripped.” Coming to her feet, she placed a hand on the back of the couch until she was steady. The familiar twinge in her hip had escalated to full-on piercing pain, and she needed to remain still until it subsided. “What are you doing here?”
The muscle in his jaw clenched as he came to his full height, towering over her and making her feel so small. He fisted his hands on his narrow hips and said nothing. The way he just stared at her did absolutely nothing to lessen her humiliation. Falling was one thing, but doing so because of an injury that continued to hinder her life at the most inopportune times was degrading.
Knowing Zach had never forgiven himself for her handicap still sent an ache through her that she feared would never go away. Sophie actually hurt for him.
“Zach?”
Dark eyes darted to hers, to her legs, then back up. “You didn't hurt yourself when you tripped, did you?”
“Um . . . no.” She'd never admit her pain, especially to him. “I trip all the time.”
The muscle ticked even more. “Because of . . .” He trailed off, but pointed to her leg as if he couldn't even say the word “limp.”
As embarrassing as this was to make
him
uncomfortable because of
her
injury, she shook her head. “No. I just didn't know who was coming in and I was trying to get to the pepper spray in my purse.”
A portion of the truthâthat was all he was getting from her.
Zach rubbed his hand across his bearded jaw, and the bristling sound sent shivers through her. She didn't want shivers, had no room in her life for shivers. At least not from this man.
Still, that sound couldn't help but conjure up thoughts as to how the coarse hair would feel against her skin. Unfortunately, she'd never know.
She had to admit Zach Monroe's wide shoulders, scruffy jawline, and menacing, icy eyes were quite mesmerizing. Still, she wasn't looking for a man; she already had one.
Besides, she couldn't fully get over the way Zach had treated her over the past decade. Being dismissed, ignored, or barely given the time of day was damn hurtful, even if he was using it as a defense mechanism.
Still, her body responded to the man each and every time he was near . . . each response stronger than the last. Ignoring that invisible pull was the only option. She had a man in her life, a man she was supposed to meet for dinner very soon.
Sophie was only feeling this thread of attraction for Zach for the same reasons she had as a teen: Zach Monroe was reckless, mysterious in his quiet ways, and sexy as hell. Not boyfriend or relationship material for any woman in her right mind who didn't want to have her heart broken.
But the way he'd looked at her, had instantly gone on alert at the sight of her on the floor. Degrading as the moment was, that was the first honest, raw emotion she'd seen from the man in years.
“You know, you can talk about my condition,” she told him, needing him to realize that bringing it out in the open didn't make her upset. “I'm used to it. I rarely notice it, actually.”
More lies. Oftentimes after working long hours and showing homes, going up and down flights of stairs, the ache from all the limping got to her, and her other leg actually started hurting from taking up the slack from the injured one. But that was rare. Most of the time there was just an annoying ache she could live with.
“I don't want to discuss that. I just wanted to know if you were hurt from falling just now.”
Protective shield back up. His eyes were no longer holding that vulnerable compassion. She'd already taken a mental picture of how he'd looked, and she'd never forget. Why couldn't he just let go? Why had everyone let him close himself off?
Sophie crossed her arms and stared up at him. “Just when would you like to discuss
that
? Because until you and I talk about what happened years ago, you'll never be at peace. I for one am sick of the way you've let this just eat away at you, because it's affected everyone around you.”
She hadn't meant to snap; the words just flooded out of her mouth before she could put up her filter. She couldn't say she was sorry, though. A decade was a hell of a long time for any of them to keep all these emotions bottled up.
Zach massaged the back of his neck. “Drop it.”
“Drop it? Is that how you cope?”
Those tortured eyes closed for the briefest of moments before his lids lifted and those eyes the color of rich chocolate met hers. “It's the only option I have. That accident . . .”
The low, raspy tone nearly had her reaching for him. The hurt lacing his voice matched that in her heart. They weren't friends anymore, not like they used to be, and she had no right to pry into his life, his emotions. Hadn't she moved on? Purposely guiding her life in another direction, away from anything that resembled the young man she used to love . . . or thought she'd loved.
She waited on him to finish his thought, but he just shook his head and glanced away.
Carefully gauging her words, Sophie took a slight step forward. “No, don't look away. That accident isn't what messed up your life. You messed it up afterward by pushing everyone away and not facing the fact that you're human. Why can't you see that people can't shun you without you allowing it? You're the one who built that invisible wall around yourself, refusing to let people in.”
Silence hovered between them. Sophie could hear the steady thumping of her heart. She'd not been alone with Zach since before that night. Chelsea or another family member had always been present the few times they'd been in close proximity over the past several years. Awkwardness was now being pushed aside by long overdue questions.
Zach turned toward the door. “This was a mistake.”
Oh no. He wasn't getting off that easy. She struggled to get between him and the door. She made it . . . barely.
“You're not leaving.”
His eyes widened as if he hadn't expected such a quick, defiant reaction from her. To be honest, she was pretty proud of herself for being bold where he was concerned. She was sick to death of him running from her, from Liam, from the accident. Someone here needed to grow a set and man up. Apparently that was going to be her.
If she'd learned anything from Chelsea's death, it was that tomorrow wasn't guaranteed and you had to seize the moment or the moment would seize you.
“Move, Sophie.”
“No.” She forced herself to look into those beautiful, lost eyes. “I won't bring up the car accident, I won't make you talk. But don't run. Chelsea wouldn't want this. She'd want us to be friends again.”
“You're right. She would.” Zach sighed as he glanced around Chelsea's apartment. “Damn, I miss her.”
“We'll miss her forever,” Sophie added softly. “Is that why you came by? I do that when I want to feel closer to her. I keep waiting for one of you guys to ask for my key back to give to the landlord.”
“I actually came to start going through some things. I can come back.”
Once you're gone.
The unspoken words hovered in the air just as sure as if he'd spoken them aloud.
“No.” Sophie headed back to the couch and picked up her purse. “I've been here long enough. I actually already found a few items I'd like to keep. Things I bought for her over the years, and the pictures of us as kids. They're sitting on her bed. Just look through them and let me know if I can have them.”
Zach nodded. “You're entitled to whatever you want.”
Sophie's cell chimed from her purse. She hesitated answering the text now, but Zach had already moved toward the bedroom. He stopped as he spotted the binders on the dining table.
“Those were in the bottom of her closet,” Sophie told him, pulling her phone out. “I haven't looked at them yet.”
She glanced down to the text from Martin and sighed. Their dinner date was being put off. Again. Most women would be disappointed, and in a way she was. Sophie realized he was a busy man, with his city job and helping his father run a chain of restaurants. Things came up, life happened. They'd dated for six months, but for the last month they hadn't been on even one date because of their hectic schedules.
Sometimes she wondered if she dated Martin because he was so secure, so safe. Other times she wondered if she was with him because he reminded her of her childhood and she knew no different. He had that structured, polished thing going, and stability. Nothing to worry about with him. Definitely inside her comfort zone.
Sophie turned toward Zach, who still had his back to her. Those broad shoulders stretched his thin gray T-shirt to the max. Well-worn jeans hugged his backside, and work boots that had definitely seen better days spoke volumes about how hard the man worked. She watched as he flipped open the binder and flipped through page after page.