Page 85 of Heated

“That depends. What’re you going to do about my sister?”

I replace the stopper on the decanter of whiskey and hand him the tumbler.

“I love Zora.”

To me that explains everything.

Somewhere between Jordan’s come-to-Jesus talk and Levi yanking a knot in my ass, I’d already admitted to myself that I loved her. This past week without her—not hearing her voice, not seeing her smile, not inhaling her scent, not feeling her curves against my body, not being inside her—has been hell. But I’ve been too caught up in my hurt feelings to see her side of this. To understand her fear. To view my part in it.

And in the end, none of it matters. Not one fucking bit of it. Because it comes down to one thing.

I’d rather have her than my plan.

All these years, I’ve been working to fulfill this vision, this future, that my parents would be proud of, that they deserved. When all they would’ve wanted for me was what they had—happiness, family, and love.

They would’ve wanted Zora for me, of this I have zero doubts.

I don’t need to read her email.

I forgive her unconditionally, no strings.

And I love her more.

“I guess that means I won’t be kicking your ass.” Levi sniffs his whiskey and nods. “Good. Because it’s hell getting blood out of these suits. And friends with good whiskey is better any day.”

Jordan laughs and throws an arm around Levi’s shoulders, and though the other man stiffens, he doesn’t shake it off.

Oh yeah, bromance in the making.

But first, I have a woman to win back.

If I’m not too late.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

ZORA

I stare at my inbox.

And stare. As if willing it to give up its secrets. Or just one of them. And that’s if Cyrus has read and replied to my email. But, of course, I know the answer.

No and no.

Anger flashes inside me like a struck match. He didn’t even bother to read my email yet. Sure, he could be very busy at work and hasn’t had the opportunity yet ... and that’s bullshit. Cyrus just doesn’t want to have anything to do with me. Not even in email form.

“Too soon,” I whisper, shuffling the pen on my desk from one side of the keyboard to the other. Needing to give my handsanythingto do. “It’s just too soon for him to hear from me.”

If he ever wants to hear from me. That’s possible. And if it is true, I’ll have to be okay with it.

No, Iwillbe okay.

If all of this has taught me anything, it’s I have work to do—on myself. As Levi pointed out, I do have trust issues that stem from an emotionally chaotic childhood. Whether it’s Cyrus or someone else, Iwill enter my next relationship healthy and from a place of strength. I’ve already scheduled my first appointment with a counselor.

And I’ve resigned my position of family peacemaker.

I inhale a deep breath, flattening my hands on top of my pants-covered thighs.

Yes, I’m going to be more than okay. I will be fine.