Hold Me Close - Talia Hibbert Page 0,238

like the slow creep of a spider. He tried not to flinch. It was funny: people used to call Zach a freak, a weirdo obsessed with comic books and cartoons. Now he wore his heroes on his biceps in greyscale, and women like Callie called him a hot nerd. Whatever the fuck that meant.

At least there was no confusion over what this meant: the look in her eyes, the tease in her touch, white teeth sinking into her plump lower lip. Shit. Rejecting a woman really wasn’t his idea of fun—but he’d made himself a promise, recently. One designed to break his habit of handing out Yeses he didn’t mean. Zach had sworn to himself that he wouldn’t sleep with a woman again unless he really, truly wanted her. No exceptions. “Cal,” he said, catching her hand. “I, uh…”

She smiled and pulled away. “No?”

Relief. “No.”

“I hear you’re saying no to everyone, these days.”

Which wasn’t like him, hence the gossip. There was a question in Callie’s eyes, one he’d seen a thousand times before. Briefly, he considered answering.

You see, a while back, I thought my mother was dying, so I had a come-to-Jesus moment and explored the sexuality I’ve always tried to ignore. I am now unapologetically demisexual, which means no more sleeping with women I don’t want just because it seems like I should.

Of course, she probably wouldn’t know what demisexual meant—he hadn’t, for a long time—and the thought of defining it made him want to take a three-year nap. So he kept his mouth shut.

After a moment, Callie let it go.

“Well,” she said brightly, “I’m glad I caught you, anyway.”

For a moment, he thought, Caught me? But she kept talking, so his mind moved on.

“I have a problem, Zach,” she said, shooting a glare behind her—where, around the corner, Ravenswood’s only mechanic had set up shop years ago. “I’ve been down here once a week for months, now. Months. And bloody Joe still can’t fix my car properly.”

Zach knew Callie well enough to realise she was exaggerating. Still, he nodded sympathetically. “What’s up?”

“Well, if only I knew!” She threw up her hands. “First, it’s a coolant issue, then it’s the head gasket, then, actually, no, it’s an electrical fault. Honestly, we need a new mechanic around here. You should’ve taken over. You were always so good at that stuff.”

Yeah, well, necessity was the mother of every skill Zach had. Growing up poor with a busy single parent and a missing older brother had led him to learn a lot of practical shit at a very young age. The hard way. And those skills had never been allowed to fade, because once someone identified you as useful, they’d always be around to… well, use you.

Callie was giving him this hopeful, lip-biting look that might’ve made him dizzy, if he was allosexual—if he developed attraction without an emotional connection. But he wasn’t, and he didn’t. Gorgeous as Callie was, she didn’t make him feel a damn thing below the belt. What he did feel was a familiar tug in his chest, that nagging pull he always experienced when faced with someone who needed something. It was an urgent whisper he couldn’t ignore: You’re the only one people can rely on. That makes it your duty to help.

“I’ll take a look at the car for you,” he said. He had a job, a sick mother, and a life, but sure, why the fuck not? Somehow, in the middle of all that, he’d fix Callie Michaelson’s car—even though he hadn’t seen her in a century.

The uncharitable thought, so unlike him, brought a slight frown to Zach’s face.

Callie didn’t seem to notice. She clasped her hands together and beamed, “Oh, I knew you would! You are such a sweetheart.” Then she flung her arms around his neck, which must have been uncomfortable, since there was a brick fucking wall separating their bodies. But she did it anyway.

She left pretty quick after that, which was, frankly, a relief. It took Zach a few deep, careful breaths to ease the prickling discomfort Callie had left behind, but he managed. He’d been managing more and more, lately. Once he was calm, he loitered for a few more minutes, knowing his break was over, hating that he was behind schedule, but oddly eager to see Rae. For some reason, after that high-pressure exchange, he was starving for another woman’s absent-minded smile. And eventually, his patience was rewarded. She came.

He heard her before he saw her: that slow clip