Not Meant To Be Broken Page 7

  I was startled by her words.

  “You aren’t broken. You will experience love. I know you will. You've been strong enough to move in with Brian and Zach, and you will be strong enough to find your happiness.”

  The microwave beeped, glad for the distraction. I opened the door, took the popcorn out and turned to head back to the living room.

  “Wait,” Reagan said. She raised a tissue to my face and dried the remains of my tears. I did the same for her and after checking our reflection in the window, we returned into the living room. After our conversation, I actually felt better. Reagan met my eyes across the room before she sat down on Kevin's lap. I put the popcorn into a bowl on the table and sat down on the loveseat, my legs pulled against my chest. I rested my chin on my knees and focused on the TV. I felt eyes on me and tilted my head to the side to find Zach staring at me. He smiled and I couldn’t help but smile back.

  Zachary

  I buried my face into my pillow. I felt like shit – as if my body had been overrun by a truck repeatedly. For once this wasn't the effect of a night spent partying with the guys. My stomach constricted. With a hoarse groan I rolled over onto my back and stared at the white ceiling. The motion sent a new wave of sickness through my body. “Fuck.” My stomach’s contents wanted to see daylight and I'd be damned if I'd let that happen in my room. I swung my legs over the edge of my bed and my hand shot to my head when dizziness set in. “Fuck,” I groaned as I stumbled to my feet and out of my room. My vision turned blurry for a moment but I managed to find the bathroom. Once there, I emptied my stomach into the toilet bowl. The last time I’d hurled like that was in my freshman year at college after doing two kegstands in a row. A hang-over, that I could deal with, especially if it entailed a fucking great night of fun, but this shit? I couldn’t even remember the last time I had the flu.

  I dragged my sorry ass back to my room and flopped down on the bed, not bothering to cover myself with the blanket. I was drenched in sweat. The boxers and t-shirt stuck to my skin but I couldn't even bring myself to change clothes right now. A knock at the door caused me to lift my head a few inches, though I let it plop down on the pillow almost instantly because it was taking too much effort.

  “Zach?”

  I replied with an unintelligible grunt. The door opened and Brian entered, dressed and groomed for college, not one hair out of place as usual. He let his gaze wander over my sprawled-out form.

  “You look like shit.”

  I grimaced. “Hadn't noticed.”

  “I take it that you won't attend classes today,” he said with a smirk.

  I flipped him the bird, then snatched up a book from the floor and chucked it at him.

  “Have fun,” he called as he dashed out of the room and slammed the door shut before the book could hit him in the head. Instead it banged against the door and fell to the ground. I closed my eyes and tried to ignore the turning of my stomach.

  Some time later, another knock disturbed my silent suffering but it was softer than the one before.

  Amber? I sat up slightly and straightened my clothes. “Come in.”

  The door opened and Amber poked her head in, hair still damp and curling at the tips. I gave her a smile and she stepped into the room, her foot bumping against the book that I'd thrown at Brian. Amber stared down at it with a little frown. “Is this supposed to lie there?”

  I shook my head. “Nah, I aimed it at Brian, but he was too fast.”

  One corner of her mouth pulled up into an almost smile as she picked it up and lay it on a cupboard. I didn't want to ask, worried about unsettling her, but I was starting to wonder what she was doing in my room. Her eyes wandered around my room, taking in my trophies and the posters of Patagonia on the walls, and eventually returned to my face. “I made chicken soup for you and I wondered if you'd like to eat some now.”

  I sat up fully. “You cooked for me?”

  Amber nodded, biting her lip, and her cheeks turned a soft pink. Holy shit, she was fucking beautiful.

  “Brian told me that you aren't feeling well and that you're staying at home. He said I should order pizza but with an upset stomach that would be stupid, so I made soup. It will soothe your stomach.”

  The only person who’d ever made soup for me was Theresa, the nanny my parents hired so my father could jet around the world and work while my mother drowned her loneliness in alcohol. Misunderstanding my silence and my frown, her face flushed an even deeper shade of red. “I mean...you don't have to eat my soup. If you'd rather have pizza, I can order –”

  “No!” I half screamed. She jumped. “Sorry.” I paused. “I want your soup. I don't think my stomach could handle pizza right now.”

  Her eyes lit up. “I'll get it for you.” She hurried out of the room and returned with a tray.

  “Where did you find a tray?” I asked as she set it down on my nightstand. I sent a silent thanks to the powers above that the packet with condoms was stored in my top drawer and not in plain sight.

  “It was at the back of the kitchen cupboard.”

  “I didn’t even know we had one. Must be a leftover from the previous owner.”

  “It has its uses,” Amber said, leaning against my desk. I chanced a look at the tray. A plate with steaming chicken soup was positioned in the middle. But that wasn’t all. There was a mug with a pale liquid. I took a whiff. Chamomile tea. I scrunched up my nose.

  “It will help your stomach,” Amber said sternly as she noticed my expression.

  “I hate the taste.”

  She smiled slightly. “You will get used to it.”

  I grabbed the tray and positioned it on my lap, careful not to spill anything. Amber turned around on her way to the door. “Will you keep me company?” I blurted out. Slowly, she turned around, surprise flashing across her face.

  “You don't have to. I'm sure you've better things to do than keep a dying man company.” I let out a melodramatic sigh.

  She let out a laugh, her expression and body relaxing visibly. “Actually, I've got nothing better to do right now but you don't look as if you're dying.” There was an amused twinkle in her brown eyes that I'd never seen before. For once the haunted look had left her beautiful face.

  She sat down on my office chair. I was surprised that she'd chosen to sit so close to me. Weak and sick with the flu, I probably looked pretty pathetic, not at all dangerous or threatening. I’d never been happier about looking pathetic. At least, Amber felt comfortable in my company.

  When I was done eating the soup, the tea was cold. Maybe Amber would show mercy and not make me drink it, but I had no such luck.

  “You should really drink it. Don't you want to get better?”

  I gulped the disgusting liquid down, making a face. Amber smiled and I decided that the horrible taste was worth seeing her smile. Her eyes returned to the trophies I'd won in karate and in martial arts. “Those are yours?”

  I nodded, not sure if it might intimidate her.

  “Dad always wanted me to learn self-defense.”

  “I could teach you some day,” I suggested, though I wasn't sure how to do it, since it would probably require physical contact.

  To my surprise, Amber seemed to consider my suggestion and I could have grinned stupidly because I was so happy.

  She found the frame with a photo of my parents and me at my graduation on my desk behind a pile of ignored books. “Your parents?”

  I leaned back against the headboard and nodded. “Yes.”

  “They look nice, but your mother looks so young,” she said.

  “They do look nice. And my mother was twenty-two when she had me. My father is fifteen years older than her. She was an intern at his company when they met.”

  She studied my face. “You don’t get along?”

  “We hardly see each other. They are too busy.” Well, my father was. My mother spent most of her time with her therapist or in our country club, at least when she wasn’t in rehab.

  “What abo
ut when you were younger?”

  “They were busy then too.”

  “Oh,” she said. She brought up her legs and curled her socked-toes around the edge of the seat. “So what’s up with all the Patagonia posters? Did you travel there?”

  “No,” I said, looking at my favorite poster of the Los Glaciares National Park. “But one day I will. I want to travel South America from top to bottom.”

  “That would take a while.”

  “Six months to a year if you want to do it properly,” I said absent-mindedly. “Guess I’ll have to wait until I’m retired for that to happen.”

  “Or you could take a year off before you start to work and follow your dream.” Amber shook her head. “That sounded cheesy.”

  “No,” I said softly. “I should, but I can’t. Some things just aren’t meant to be.”

  “I know,” she said, brown eyes boring into my own.

  ***

  The next three days while I was confined to my bed, Amber brought me food – and chamomile tea despite my pleas and protests – and kept me company. I'd never enjoyed being ill so much before.

  I wasn't sure if her newfound comfort around me would last after I'd recovered, but I hoped she'd realized that she could feel safe with me. Brian didn't know about the time that Amber had been spending in my room and somehow I knew it was better that way. He was weird when it came to Amber. Couldn't he see that she longed for normalcy?

  CHAPTER NINE

  Amber

  I walked out of my room, Pumpkin at my heels. He was hungry and didn't stop complaining loudly. I hurried through the living room and into the kitchen, stopping in my tracks when I saw Zach sitting at the table. He looked much better than the days before. I was still shocked about my courage to spend so much time with him over the last few days but he'd looked so helpless and I just couldn't let him down. I liked to take care of people, especially since most of the time over the last few years it had been the other way around. Before the incident I’d considered working as a doctor, but now I associated too many bad memories with hospitals. People always tried to take care of me and helping Zach had made me feel useful. I'd enjoyed spending time with him.

  “Good morning, Amber.” Zach's words tore me from my thoughts.

  I gave him a smile. He grinned in return, his spoon with cereal hovering a few inches in front of his face. For a moment, I marveled at how blue his eyes were.

  “Are you feeling better?” I asked as I walked into the kitchen and picked up cat food from the cupboard.

  “Yes, and all thanks to your cooking skills. If I'd followed Brian's advice and eaten pizza, I would have been in hospital by now.” He let out a low chuckle, more of a rumble from deep in his chest. I loved the sound.

  I laughed and shook my head. “Maybe that was Brian's intention.”

  Zach's booming laugh filled the kitchen and a grin tugged at my lips. It felt good to make him laugh. It almost made me feel happy. He looked even more handsome when he laughed than he did anyway. I felt my cheeks heat in embarrassment and hastily bent over Pumpkin's feeding bowl to hide my red face from Zach. Had I just thought of him as handsome? Usually, there were only two categories of men for me – very intimidating and slightly less intimidating. Apparently, a third category had been added to that. Handsome. I found Zach handsome. This realization shocked me so much that I must have remained bent over Pumpkin's bowl for a couple of minutes without giving him any food. He mewed loudly, giving me a reproachful look with his amber eye. Had Zachary noticed anything? My cheeks warmed even more and I filled the bowl hurriedly and straightened before I faced Zach. Fortunately, he was immersed in a sports magazine and hadn't noticed my strange behavior.

  “Will you stay home today?” I asked before I could stop myself.

  Zach raised his head and smiled. “Yes, I'm not feeling fit enough for classes.” He winked at me and again I felt myself blush. I busied myself with the apple that I was eating to avoid embarrassing myself even more. I leaned against the counter. Zach rose from his chair. I waited for the usual tensing of my muscles but nothing happened. Maybe the last couple of days with Zach had changed something. I felt almost elated when I pondered the possibility.

  Zach knelt down beside Pumpkin and began petting his neck, causing my cat to purr in approval. I smiled softly. He raised his head. “Are you up for some video games? Maybe I'll even let you win.”

  “Maybe I'm good and you don't need to let me win,” I countered with raised eyebrows.

  “Are you any good?”

  I let out a sigh and shook my head. “No, probably not.”

  “Fantastic!” Zach straightened and strode into the living room. I followed him and sank down on the loveseat, facing the TV screen. Zach plopped down on the sofa and handed one of the controllers to me. The video game turned out to be car racing and I sucked at it. Most of the time I was busy not crashing against the walls or other cars. Zach was trying not to laugh at me but I could tell that he had trouble hiding his grin.

  “Having fun?” I asked sarcastically.

  Zach gave me an apologetic look, though his grin was ruining the effect. “Sorry. I'll make up for it. Today, I'm going to cook for us.”

  I probably didn’t look too enthusiastic about his idea, because Zach made a mock hurt face. It turned out that my worries weren't unfounded. The macaroni and cheese Zach prepared for us was hardly edible. I ate them anyway, not wanting to hurt his feelings.

  “Tell me this isn’t the most disgusting thing you’ve ever eaten,” Zach said, sticking his fork back into his pile of macaroni.

  “It’s not that bad.” He raised one dark eyebrow. Something fluttered in my belly. “Okay, it’s pretty horrible. But it’s not the worst thing I’ve ever eaten. Just promise me to never cook again.” A strand of hair fell out of my ponytail and I twirled it around my finger. Zach followed the movement with his eyes. “You have beautiful hair,” he said.

  My hand froze as heat slowly crawled up my neck. “Thanks.” I lowered my hand, suddenly self-conscious. I didn’t look away, caught in his intense gaze. The silence stretched between us. For a moment, I wondered how it would be to lean across the table and touch my lips to his.

  Zachary

  Amber’s gaze sent a shiver down my back. I wanted to pull her to me and kiss her pink lips. Brian stalked into the room. The wakeup call I needed. Fuck, what was I thinking? I couldn’t kiss Amber. She wouldn’t want me to. It would scare her. Brian looked irritated and tired. Not a good sign. I knew he'd spent the day with Lauren and they'd probably had another fight.

  His gaze darted between Amber and me, and a flicker of anger crossed his eyes. I almost groaned. He was in one of his moods. I hoped he would get over it before he said something stupid.

  “What are you doing?” He focused on me for a second before his gaze moved on to Amber. She rose from her chair and shrugged. “We had dinner and then we decided to play some Playstation.”

  “Play some Playstation,” Brian said doubtfully. “Why is it that you don't seem to mind spending time alone with Zach? You hardly know him at all.”

  What the hell was he doing? “Brian...” I began in a warning tone.

  “Stay out of it. That's between Amber and me,” he interrupted as he walked to where she stood. When he'd almost reached her, she stiffened and took a step back, probably scared of the anger radiating off of him. Apparently, her reaction to him was the last straw for Brian.

  “God, Amber I'm your brother! Do you think I would hurt you?” he demanded, his expression hurt.

  She stared at him with wide eyes. “No,” she said quickly. Again Brian moved toward her, closer and closer until she took a step back. Why did he have to push her like this?

  His face contorted with pain and despair and it was nearly too much to watch. “Why do you move back then? I would never hurt you,” Brian said in a broken tone.

  Amber looked thoroughly shaken. “I'm sorry! I...didn’t mean to...I.” Her voice died away and she stumbled
toward the front door, tore it open and disappeared.

  “Damn, Brian, what was that for?” I asked furiously.

  His eyes grew wide and he shook his head slowly. “I...just got carried away. Lauren...and I, we had a fight and then I saw Amber with you, smiling. I lost it.”

  I snorted as I pulled a jacket on.

  “What are you doing?”

  I glowered at him, grabbing the keys to the apartment. “Your sister just ran out and it's dark outside and raining.”

  Guilt flashed across his face. “If something happens to her.”

  “It won't. I'm sure she's close by,” I told him and jogged out of the apartment and down the stairs. I didn’t have the patience to wait for the elevator to arrive. I wasn't sure if Brian was following but I didn’t want look over my shoulder. I stepped out of the building and instantly the rain lashed against my face. It was icy cold.

  A sigh of relief left my lips when I caught sight of Amber. She stood on the sidewalk, her hair and clothes soaked and clinging to her body, making me aware of everything she was usually hiding. She wasn't moving but as I got closer I noticed that her shoulders were shaking. She stiffened when she heard my steps.

  “Amber?” I said cautiously, stopping a few feet away from where she stood. “Brian didn’t mean what he said.”

  “He's right though. I shouldn't treat Brian and Dad like this.” She turned around to me, her face full of self-hatred.

  I couldn't bear seeing her like that. “It's not your fault.”

  “Whose fault is it then?” she asked sharply, her eyes hollow and desperate.

  I stared at her, the rain pouring down on us. “Of those men,” I replied calmly.

  She blanched and lowered her gaze to the ground, wrapping her arms tightly around her chest. “Sometimes I think that I deserved what happened, that it happened for a reason, that it was my fault.”

  I was so shocked by her words that at first I didn’t know what to do. “No. That's nonsense. Fucking nonsense and you know it,” I said firmly. “Don't blame yourself for what happened. You could just as well blame me or Brian or your dad.”