Captured Memories: Cupid’s Cafe, Book Three

by Katherine McIntyre

  “That’s Sir Percival the Bold,” she murmured, raking her fingers through her tangled curls that she’d loosened from the bun.

  He cocked an eyebrow as he looked at her. “Oh yeah, he’s pure ferociousness.” The cat continued rubbing against his callused hand, the body vibrating with the strength of motorboat purrs.

  “I’m being a shitty host,” she proclaimed, as if waking out of a stupor. “I’m going to put the kettle on for some tea, and you’re going to like it.” He glanced to her, his heart warming at the way she rallied, at how she clung to her brashness like a safety net. Without further comment, Liv marched out of the room into the kitchen, her boots slapping the linoleum and her motions less than graceful as the chorus of clanks followed. Zane straightened from his crouch, making his way across the hardwood towards the black leather couch pressed against her vivid purple walls.

  The explosion of color around the room, the photographs plastered around the place in even intervals, and even the lingering scent of jasmine in the air all lived and breathed Olivia Morozov. He settled into the couch, his arms stretched out along the back as he soaked in the pictures all around her living room. She had a sharp eye for photography in high school, and the years had honed her skill with composition and light. The landscapes were lush and haunting while the portraits offered the subject’s vulnerabilities on display.

  Liv stepped into the room carrying two earthenware mugs, steam curling from them to rise to the ceiling. She’d ditched the hoodie back in the kitchen and must have finger combed her hair into a fresher ponytail. Her pale lavender socks came halfway up her calves, her boots tipped over at the entrance of the kitchen, abandoned. “You still like green tea, right?” she asked, handing over the mug. “If not, you’re getting this cup anyway, because I need this singe-your-brows-off Irish breakfast at the moment.”

  He grinned, entertained by the sass that hadn’t been dimmed but sharpened through the years. “That defensive over tea? Did you spit in the cup or something?”

  She pursed her lips as she took a seat beside him on the couch, tucking her legs by her side. “Tea is serious business, jackass.” Liv blew the steam from the top to send it rolling. “So I’m assuming you came for an explanation about the other night, yeah?” At the comment, the smiles vanished, and gravity edged her words.

  Zane shook his head. “That’s never been how I work, Liv or how we were. I’m not going to make you rip open old scars to satisfy my own insecurities. You tell me how we proceed, because I’ll be honest—I still find you sexy as hell, and I’ve never forgotten the connection we shared.” Her eyes flared at his admission, the intense yearning in those blues striking a deep resonance within him. Liv didn’t move, though her muscles tensed and her mouth closed, as if she’d run out of witty defenses and backed herself into a corner.

  Somehow in the wake of her explosion, his own nerves had been calmed, like her outpouring of emotion allowed his as well. Still, he understood what cost the outpouring entailed, how it tilted the scales in his direction. Right now, she was the one who had the uncontrolled release and had tipped her hand before she wanted to. The shock of unexpected vulnerability would make anyone bolt. Even though she might decide to ditch here and now, for once he wanted to roll the dice.

  “I walked away the first night because I’m an alcoholic, Livs,” Zane said, the admission scraping his throat raw in the process. The word said aloud made him cringe, from the thousands of confessions at the meetings to the memories tied along with it, of the scent of vomit and piss in a rotten alleyway, of how every muscle in his body ached so much he believed he’d never move again, and of the deep depression saturating his bones in the aftermath, so strong he wanted to die.

  She gripped her mug tighter, and Zane swallowed, hard, waiting for her to respond. Needing her to say something, anything, as his nerves buzzed on edge. The familiar panic began to rear, the one of the judgment and derision that followed his confession. Of the self-loathing haunting him daily.

  The stroke of soft, slender fingers over his hand drew his attention. Liv rested her palm over his, squeezing tight. No words were necessary in the wake of what the gentle motion conveyed, but she opened her mouth anyway.

  “You’re not your father, Z,” she murmured, her voice hushed and wide-open, as if they’d returned to sitting on her bed during the lazy summer that first ignited their love. When she’d said those same words after one of his bad spells. He’d become a brooding recluse to the point where Lex had gotten worried, but Liv had pushed, unrelenting until she had coaxed him out. Even now, those words punched him in the gut, twisting the core fear that burned inside him on the best of days.

  His throat squeezed tight, and at first, he couldn’t find any words to say, but as he locked eyes with her, they came unbidden anyway. “And you are more than the damage done to you, Livs,” he whispered, scared to betray a tremor in his voice. Liv bit her lip, and those ocean eyes of hers turned glassy.

  Her spine stiffened even as her hand squeezed his tightly, like she tried to force herself upright when all she wanted to do was crumble. She’d initiated the touch between them, welcomed it, so Zane braved the waters to wrap his arms around her. Liv’s body tensed at the touch, and he prepared to pull away, not wanting to push her too far too fast—not wanting a repeat of the other night. Except a moment later, she crumpled against his chest like she belonged there, her fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt.

  He sucked in a shaky breath as she leaned against him, pressing her cheek to his chest. The scent of citrus wafted around the room, mingling with the raw scent of earth and the sweet honeyed fragrance in her hair. Her presence cast a spell over him, a gentle reprieve from the constant pulse of alcohol’s siren song. Of the need for distraction itching his veins as he sought to banish too many memories he’d rather leave buried.

  For the strong as steel woman to cave against him, for her to show vulnerability—Zane didn’t feel like he deserved the honor. Liv had always given her emotions freely with him, but this new hesitance in her stance slayed him. Even though rage still curled in his stomach, she didn’t need to grapple with his anger on the subject while she shouldered her own all by her lonesome. He understood all too well the heavy toll that sort of secret exacted.

  “We’re a mess, aren’t we,” she mumbled against his chest, curled against him. Even though the woman turned him on like no one else, with creamy skin and curves he wanted to sink his teeth into, right now, Zane basked in the comfort of touch. Of having her in his arms after all these years. With the way he’d bared his soul and how she had exposed hers, he felt raw—more stripped down than any of his one-nighters from the past.

  From the moment he locked eyes on her back in Cupid’s Café, the girl from so long ago wearing the jacket he gave her, he was screwed. Because she filtered through his veins like fresh air in a cavern, something he gasped for after years hidden away.

  “How about we try for a real date, where one of us isn’t bolting for the door?” he asked, running his hands through her teal strands and causing the color to shift underneath his fingertips like flowing water. Her cat hopped onto the couch on the opposite side, kneading the cushion and purring until he found a spot. Liv nudged out with her foot to poke Percival the Bold in the side before she glanced up at him.

  “You mean all your dates aren’t sobfests like this?” she responded, some of the wryness returning to her voice. “You’ve been missing out, bucko.”

  He snorted in response and squeezed her tight to him, that lithe, beautiful body melting against his. “I figure we don’t have to sit here moping any longer—if I know you at all, you’ve got a copy of the Princess Bride somewhere around here?”

  Liv glanced at him, those blues sparking to life in a way that made his heart ache, and the radiant smile that followed socked him in the chest. “Of course not. Why would I own the best movie ever made?” Her nose crinkled with her grin, and she settled against him for a moment. “Thanks to the power of Ne
tflix, we don’t even have to move.”

  He smiled into her hair, one he wasn’t ready to share—not yet.

  Even as the warmth welled in his chest with a hearth glow he’d long missed, a gash opened, and sadness bled into it. No matter how much Liv made him feel, and no matter how much he wanted to pretend he could handle dating the girl of his dreams like an average guy, the inevitable would happen. She would leave. Whether she would grow tired of the day-to-day struggle of his addiction, or if he slipped up and incinerated his life like he’d done once before, the guillotine waited to descend.

  Zane’s lips pressed tight as he and Liv sank back into her leather couch. He hugged her tighter. If this was the brief time he got with her, if these moments were one firework away from vanishing, he’d make them count.

  7

  Liv lifted her gaze from the bowl of congealing ingredients that was supposed to be banana nut muffins. Somewhere along the way, she’d botched the recipe. Batter splattered the countertops, flour claimed the floor, and milk pooled on her stovetop. The idea stemmed from a solid place—with her good-as-hell mood, she brimmed with sunshine today, and her bestie was coming to visit. However, the execution hadn’t followed suit.

  “Hey-o, I’m here,” Tessa’s voice sounded as the door to her apartment creaked open and shut. A second later, Tessa popped into her kitchen, wearing neon purple running sneakers and a skin-tight spandex jogging ensemble that would make most men drool. Liv rubbed her cheek, which had gained a crusted splotch of batter from her valiant battle in the kitchen. Not like her cooking would hold a candle to Zane’s—even the way he’d plated his leftovers made her trigger finger itch to take a picture.

  Tessa’s jaw dropped as she soaked in the devastation. “You know if you wanted baked goods you could’ve gone to Kroger, right?”

  “Shut it, I wanted to try something new.” Liv wiped another crusty piece of batter from the counter and flicked the glob in Tessa’s direction with a scowl on her face. Her friend blocked the missile before leaning forward to peer into the half-empty bowl.

  Tessa’s nose wrinkled. “My god, is that Cthulu rising out from the muck?” Liv elbowed her in the side as her best friend lifted a brow. “Don’t suppose the good mood has anything to do with the hottie you met up with in the café?”

  She attempted a scowl, but the mention of Zane made her heart bounce in double time. “Maybe a little.”

  “So when do I get to meet the mystery man?” Tessa asked, daring to lick at the piece of batter. She frowned and a second later raced over to the sink to spit it out. “You’d better toss that shit before I have to haul you away for working with radioactive waste unprotected. That’s a hazard to civilization.” Tessa scrubbed at her tongue like she’d swallowed poison.

  Liv shot her a glare but snagged the bowl from the countertop, bringing her creation over to the trash can. As she scooped out the gunk she let out a sigh. As much as she wanted Z and her bestie to become fast friends, with his colorful history and the fierce devotion Tessa had to her job, she wasn’t sure if they’d even manage civil. Hell, she hadn’t dared broach the subject with Lex. There were still so many unknowns between her and Zane as they tread this uncharted territory, too much tangled history to involve her brother yet.

  “Earth to Liv, do I get to meet him?” Tessa asked, waving a manicured hand in front of her face.

  Liv allowed herself a small smile at the demands of her loving-as-hell and ferocious friend. “You can, but I’ve got to talk to him first. Cops make him a bit twitchy.” Tessa folded her arms across her chest. With the crook of her brow, she gave Liv the go-ahead to continue. Liv let out a sigh, scraping a bit of batter from her curls. “He’s an ex-con—got locked up when we were younger, but his record’s been clean ever since.”

  The tension she wanted to avoid descended. Tessa’s expression darkened, her brows furrowing with the stubborn line that always appeared between them. “What was he locked up for?” she asked with an edge to her voice that hadn’t been there before.

  Liv swallowed, hard, knowing Tessa wouldn’t like the picture she was about to paint. “I don’t know. Zane and Lex used to be best friends back in high school, but when he got locked up, Lex refused to broach the subject.” Tessa didn’t say a word, but the judgment in her pursed lips slammed into Liv full force. She knew how bad the situation appeared on the surface. Her choice made no logical sense, to go on dates with a ghost from her past with such a complicated history. And of course, after the way she’d been hurt she should be exercising more caution than ever.

  Except she also knew how her own story looked on paper. She’d been at the mercy of labels before, and she could vouch that they failed to scratch the surface of her reality.

  “Even if he’s been clear ever since, if he murdered someone, that’s a pretty big stain, which doesn’t go away. You can spend a lifetime trying to repent for one transgression,” Tessa warned. “Have you tried talking to your brother?”

  Liv shook her head. “Hell no. We’re trying to sort this out ourselves without bringing family into the mix yet. And if Lex wouldn’t even tell me his best friend went to jail, why the hell would he ‘fess up now?” Tessa delivered a knowing stare back, and Liv pursed her lips. “Look, the Z I knew had been dealt a bad hand, but I’ve never met a more caring person in my entire life. Tessa, he’s the first guy I’ve felt safe around ever since…y’know.”

  Liv trailed off, spreading her palms against her tile countertop as she braced herself. She understood clear as day why her bestie might be defensive and why she would raise these logical questions. How the hell could she explain the way her heart opened up around him for the first time in too long? When she was around him, the frozen tundra inside began to melt at long last. The old pain in his eyes, the same she’d seen when they were teens, was one she now understood.

  Around Zane, for a brief breath she didn’t feel fucked up and damaged.

  Tessa clenched her jaw before letting out a huff of a sigh. “I can already see you’re stubborn about this one, so I’m not going to waste time fighting you on him. However, if you don’t find out why the hell he got locked up, and soon, I’ll find out myself. You can’t ask me to sit on the sidelines if I don’t know you’re safe.”

  They locked eyes in a battle of wills, neither willing to relent. Finally, Liv tilted her head with a slight nod. She understood Tessa’s desperation to protect, to keep her safe. Because back in college they’d both been at that party, and Tessa had called it an early night. Her best friend still hadn’t forgiven herself for not being there, no matter how many times Liv assured her that the blame belonged to the monster who fucked her up and no one else.

  “I know you’re all about giving people second chances, but some assholes don’t deserve them.” Tessa shrugged, slipping her hands into her pockets. “I’ve seen enough ex-cons in my time who swore up and down they were fine, that they’d changed their ways and gotten better, but eventually, I was the one hauling them back in. First couple times I might’ve gotten suckered, but after a while, all those false promises amount to a heaping pile of bullshit.”

  Liv’s throat tightened. She wouldn’t even bring up the alcoholism that ran in his family, because she guaranteed Tessa would construct a wall around her on the spot to keep her from seeing Zane again. After Tessa’s dad died at the hands of a drunk driver, the woman brewed an intense hatred for alcoholics, one she wouldn’t dismiss. Combine that with ex-con and it created a recipe for disaster.

  Hell, Liv didn’t even know if she could handle a relapse from him when she could barely control her own body. However, she refused to dismiss the way he made her heart race and her senses ignite, how he made her hope again after so long. The Zane Parata she knew could brood like the best of them and would try to shoulder his burdens alone until they buried him. And after the tender way he’d handled her last night, she glimpsed the man she’d once fallen for no matter how the years apart had shaped them both.

  Liv nodded, mee
ting Tessa’s gaze. “I’ll find out. I promise. Now let’s move the hell past my love life and get to a coffee shop for real muffins, away from this monstrosity spawning in my kitchen.”

  Liv’s stomach started doing cartwheels once she stepped in front of the pool hall, Billiards Anonymous. The music from the band trailed out to the parking lot, the slick, smooth sounds of her favorite kind of rockabilly drawing her in like a siren’s lure. Even though the hour was already late, she would take whatever time she could get with Zane. The idea of seeing him again caused this jittery twelve-cups-of-coffee excitement to course through her veins, melding with the dread he’d no-show, or that in diving into the interrogation Tessa demanded, she would scare him off for good. As much as his presence struck her veins like a match, too many unknowns percolated between them.

  Zane stepped under the blue awning and lit his cigarette, his height, stature, and the looming shadow he cast making him unmistakable. Liv’s breath hitched at the sight. He’d groomed his thick mane of black hair back and trimmed his beard. The sallow light of the streetlamps enhanced the contrast of the tattoos coiled up his bronze arms, a web of trees with branches and roots that circled back into the other. The way his gray tee clung to his toned muscles and how his black cargo pants placed his strong thighs on display was enough to stoke her libido.

  Even with the way he made her salivate, shame still circulated through her veins in the wake of how she’d ruined what promised to be some of the most mind-blowing sex of her life. With the unpredictable way the reminders of that one night crept up, she couldn’t guarantee their next encounter wouldn’t end the same. Another freeze-up, another freak-out, another way for her to ruin a good thing. Zane would get sick of the difficulties and walk. She couldn’t blame him either. Liv sucked in a deep breath, dispelling her nerves as best she could manage.