Page 40 of Fall Apart

That’s a hand. A hand with a fucking engagement ring. On Johnathan’s profile. I unfollowed and blocked him from all myaccounts and feeds, but I must have forgotten about my bookstagram account since I haven’t used it in forever.

I finally swipe to the next picture. They’re sitting there, her hand out while she sits in his lap. It’s barely been six months and they’re engaged. He’s engaged to the woman he cheated on me with.

I can feel my face start to scrunch together. I don’t cry. But for once, I don’t think I’m going to be able to stop it and I don’t care.

Why am I not good enough? Why am I never fucking good enough?

I rush out of Finch, not bothering to wait for my coffee. I need to get home. Or at least back to Clay’s house. I’ve had enough people for today.

No.

Screw that.

Enough people forever.

I suddenly get why Clay hates people.

Enough crap like this and I’d want to live in a cozy house, alone, up in the mountains too.

When I pullinto Clay’s driveway, I slam my car door shut and rush inside. Despite the shit show of emotions running through my head and tears running down my face, I still somehow remember to hang my jacket and put my shoes in their tray. Fucking Clay. It’s only been two weeks and somehow he’s got me remembering his control freak routine.

“Hey, princess. How was your day?” Clay’s deep, playful voice rumbles from the living room into the kitchen. Shit. He must havecome home from work early. I don’t need him to see me like this. I never want him to see me like this.No onegets to see me like this.

I rush through the kitchen trying to cut through the living room towards the hall to the bedrooms. Clay must have been stretching because he’s in his gray sweatpants and shirtless and just a bit sweaty. When he sees me, he jumps to his feet and rushes over, cutting me off from the hallway.

“I don’t want to talk. I’ve had a shitty day. I just want to go lay down. I don’t want to play games.” I keep my eyes down, trying to hide my tears and get past him, but he stretches an arm out and catches me by my waist with his stupid and hot bear paw mitts he calls hands. My momentum carries me forward and I fall face first into his broad, muscular chest. The feeling of his warmth against my face and the sudden, unexpected skin to skin contact, is so overwhelming but soothing. I lean into him more, craving this level of comfort. My tears become sobs. I don’t care that I’m sobbing into his chest. We’ve gotten past our initial bitterness since the misunderstanding at the bar. We’re closer. We’re friends even. But he didn’t sign up for this. This isn’t part of theacquaintances that tolerate each otherplaybook.

“Lizzy.” His voice is deep, but the playful tone is long gone. “What happened? What the fuck is wrong?”

I sniffle into his chest, surprisingly enjoying his leathery cedar scent. How does he smell like this when he was just working out?

“It’s nothing. It’s not your problem. Can you just let me go? I just want to lay down.” I try to side step him, but he matches my step, putting my face once again back into his chest.

I look up at him and his eyes are locked on to mine. There’s a look in those beautiful emerald green eyes I haven’t seen before. They’re intense, like the night at the bar. But there’s a softness to them too. It’s like he’s inspecting me for some kind of damage, where I might be hurt, trying to figure out why I’m crying like this.

His throat bobs but he doesn’t look away. “Did someone fucking do this to you, princess?”

CHAPTER 20

CLAY

THE PRINCESS YOU ARE

I stare down at Lizzy.It’s taking every ounce of self-control I have to not interrogate her and find the fucking asshole that made her feel like this. That will have to wait because the defeated look in her tear filled, perfect sapphire eyes is tearing at heartstrings I thought I cut out years ago.

I tilt her chin up, not letting her look away from me. I can feel the column of her throat shift when she swallows. I run my thumb over her soft cheek, brushing away a stray tear.

“It’s nothing.” She twists her neck, pulling her face from my hand and burying it back into my chest. I feel her take a deep breath and hesitate before barely whispering against my skin. “I’m just never fucking good enough for anyone.”

My blood is practically boiling with rage.

What the fuck? How couldshethink she’s not enough? How could this woman not beenoughfor anyone? I might be younger than her. But I’m pretty confident that I know she’s more than enough woman for me. My hands start to clench into fists at the thought of anyone ever hurting this little firecracker.

I cup the back of her head, putting my lips against her soft, blonde hair, drinking in the now familiar smell of coconut and citrus that’s everywhere in my house and even my own bathroom because I’ve been buying her shampoo for myself. “Tell me what you need. Tell me how I can make you feel better. You just have to tell me.”

She wraps her arms around me, running them up my back until she raises her eyes to look at me.

“Clay,” she says, practically whispering between sobs. “I just want this feeling to go away. For once, I want to feel like I’m everything to someone.”

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