by Loren, Roni
Kincaid’s eyes went round when she saw Lucas’s face and obviously registered whom she was hitting. Her arm fell to her side. “Oh shit. Lucas?”
“Yes.” Lucas rubbed his shoulder. “Good Lord, woman, what do you have in there? Bricks?”
Kincaid looked back and forth between the two of them, her righteous expression turning sheepish. “I’m sorry. I had no idea it was you. I thought you were some rando who accosted drunk women in bar hallways.”
Taryn closed her eyes for a moment, trying to right her spinning brain and focus on her friend. She opened her eyes and gave Kincaid a tight smile. “Nope. Just Lucas. But I appreciate you trying to defend my honor.”
Kincaid looked back and forth between the two of them again and broke into a bright grin. “Always. So…this is a thing you two do now? Was this like a secret meet-up or something?”
“No,” Taryn said, her face getting hot. “It’s… We just ran into each other.”
“Right. Lips first. I see how that could happen.” Kincaid nodded seriously. “Well, sorry for the misunderstanding.” She leaned forward and patted Lucas lightly on the shoulder where she’d beaten him. “Sorry about that, big guy. I would’ve felt really bad if I’d Maced you.”
Lucas simply stared at her as if she were some exotic creature he didn’t understand.
“Taryn, honey, I’m gonna head home if you’re okay to drive,” Kincaid continued. “I was coming to find you because I got a call that I need to be in to work really early tomorrow, and I have to get back home.”
Taryn narrowed her eyes. “Really. You just got a work call this late.”
“Yep. Duty calls.” Kincaid gave a dramatic sigh. “So good night to you both.” She stepped over and gave Taryn a quick hug. “You can get back to what you were doing. Have lots of fun. Use protection.”
Taryn groaned. “Kincaid.”
Her friend stepped back, smile still in place. “You kids have fun now, ya hear?”
With that, Kincaid was heading back down the hallway, hips swaying, a spring in her step. She’d found her cake.
Lucas looked to the ceiling and seemed to be gathering himself back together. Or maybe pleading for God to beam him up.
“Sorry about that,” Taryn said, coming to stand next to him. “She’s…protective.”
“I can tell.” He looked over at Taryn. “Would she really have Maced me?”
“Without a doubt,” Taryn said, meaning it. “But maybe she should’ve been aiming at me instead. I was the one accosting the drunk. I’m sorry.”
“Accosting.” He made a dismissive sound in the back of his throat. “You know I’m not drunk. I could’ve stopped you at any time.”
“But you didn’t.”
He frowned. “I didn’t.”
“And you’re unhappy about that. You’re confusing the hell out of me,” she said, honesty spilling out of her.
“Taryn…”
A horrible thought hit her. “Wait. Are you married?”
His gaze widened. “What?”
“Oh hell.” She took a step back. “Is that what this is about? You say you’re not interested and then kiss me like the place is burning down and we need each other for air. You can’t stop thinking about me, but you don’t want to be around me. It makes sense. Oh God, you’re married. You’re someone’s husband.”
Panic moved through her as her stomach knotted.
“No,” he said, looking horrified. “That’s not it at all. Damn. I wouldn’t… No. Not married. Very not married.”
“Girlfriend? Boyfriend?”
“No. I’m not an asshole. There’s no one.”
She let out a breath, relieved she hadn’t been kissing someone’s man. “Then what is going on?”
“This. We can’t…” Lucas opened his mouth and then shut it again. He stared at her, some indefinable combination of emotions crossing his face, a debate raging. He took a breath, glanced over his shoulder toward the bar, and then looked as if he’d made some kind of decision. “Look, we need to talk, but we can’t do it here.”
“Okay.”
He gave her a look, tense lines around his mouth. “Would you feel okay going to my place? Not much is open around here at this hour besides bars.”
Maybe she should worry he was trying to get her alone in a private place, but frankly, he’d had more than ample opportunity to take advantage of her if he was that kind of guy. “Yeah, that’s fine.”
He nodded. She let him lead her out of the dark bar, and he didn’t say another word as they crossed the street and made their way to his apartment building. His shoulders were hunched, his whole body tense, and his jaw flexing. He definitely wasn’t inviting her over for a good time. The closer they got to his apartment, the more she had a sinking feeling that she was not going to like what he was going to tell her.
Maybe for once in her life, she should just walk away, not ask the question, not investigate. But the researcher in her wouldn’t let her stop. For better or worse, she needed to know why the guy she’d shared two of the hottest kisses of her life with couldn’t ask her out on a date, why he’d actively avoided her tonight.
Theories ran through her head on a loop.
Nothing logical came to mind.
She had no idea what she was walking into, but dread filled her.
Whatever it was, it wouldn’t be good.
Chapter
Thirteen
Shaw’s heart was knocking against his ribs like it was trying to break out of his chest and run back out into the street. He couldn’t believe what he was about to do. He was already mentally packing all his belongings as he led Taryn up the stairs to his apartment. He’d thought he’d have longer here in Austin. He’d thought he could simply avoid people and stay under the radar. It was a big town. Fourteen years had passed. He could disappear into a new life for a little while. But karma had other ideas. He had a feeling that no matter where he went in town, he’d end up face-to-face with Taryn Landry.
Maybe this was part of his penance. To find a woman he wanted to get to know, who made him feel like he was the guy he used to be, who made him nervous and made him laugh, and made him want with a ferocity he hadn’t felt in longer than he could remember. And then to have that woman be someone he could never touch or even be friendly with without feeling like a complete scumbag.
He couldn’t keep doing this. He owed Taryn the truth. Then he had to leave town. Because she was going to freak out—legitimately so—and be angry and feel betrayed. She’d have no reason to keep his secret. Instead, she’d have every reason in the world to out him. Why did he deserve a normal life after what his family had taken from hers?
He didn’t. That was all there was to it.
This was the end here in Austin. Rivers was going to kill him, but Shaw had no choice. He couldn’t keep lying to Taryn. He unlocked the door to his apartment, flipped on the light, and let Taryn walk in first. “It’s not much.”
She glanced around at his simple furniture and absent decor, hands hugging her elbows. “It’s nice. Modern minimalist.”
He smirked. “Is that what you call ‘haven’t had time to shop yet’?”
A half smile touched her lips. “Yep.”
“Got it.” But now he wouldn’t need to shop. He’d be gone. “You want something to drink? I have water and iced tea.”
“Tea’s good.”
He went into the kitchen and busied himself with pouring her a glass. He ran through scenarios in his head, trying to come up with a gentle way to tell her who he was, but he knew there was no such thing. This was going to be fucking traumatizing. They’d kissed. He’d had his hands on her. More than once. The first time, he hadn’t known who she was. Maybe she could forgive him for that, but tonight, he had no excuses. He’d let himself get wrapped up in the moment and had kissed her with full knowledge of who she was and who
he was to her.
Unforgivable.
He returned to the living room, finding Taryn on his couch, her hands wrapped around her crossed knees, her leg bouncing as she looked out his window toward the bar. For a second, he let himself imagine what it would be like to have no history, to wipe the slate completely clean and start fresh, to simply be bringing a drink to a woman he’d invited over to get to know better. To be the kind of man who could take her out to dinner and not be paranoid about who looked his way.
But he could never be that man, especially not with her.
He cleared his throat and she turned his way, offering him a look of open curiosity, of trust, which made him feel even worse. God, she was so damn pretty that it made his bones hurt. She didn’t wear much makeup, but she didn’t need to. Her brown skin seemed to have an inner glow, and her smile alone could knock a guy on his ass. And that was all before she opened her mouth and revealed how freaking smart she was.
“I bet it’s not sweet tea,” she teased. “That wouldn’t be gym-approved.”
He handed her the glass. “You’d lose that bet, professor. Everyone deserves a splurge sometimes, and my grandmother would roll in her grave if I was serving a guest unsweetened tea. I even make my own simple syrup for it.”
“Wow.” She took the glass and sipped, giving it a nod of approval. “Mmm. That’s good. Color me impressed…and surprised.” She cocked an eyebrow at him. “You don’t seem like you indulge in much.”
He sank into the armchair catty-corner from her. “I’m guessing we’re not talking about sweet tea anymore.”
She shrugged but kept her eyes on him as she took another sip. “Just calling it like I see it. The Lucas…” She paused, lips parted, and frowned. “I was going to say the Lucas Whoever I’ve met seems pretty strict with himself, but I just realized I don’t know your last name.”
His mouth went dry, and he suddenly wished he’d poured himself a glass of tea—or something much stronger. He wet his lips. Now or never. “Shaw. It’s Shaw.”
“Oh, okay. Lucas Shaw,” she said resolutely. “The Lucas Shaw I know—”
“No.” He shook his head, cutting her off. Words tumbled around in his head and wrecked any chance at coherence.
“No?” She frowned and set aside her drink. “Am I pronouncing it wrong?”
Sweat gathered along his back, blood pounding like a waterfall in his ears. He stared down at his hands, which were clasped loosely between his spread knees. “It’s not Lucas. It’s Shaw.”
She gave a small, nervous laugh. “Uh, maybe it’s the two margaritas, but I’m confused.”
Shaw looked up, meeting her eyes, gathering every ounce of courage he had as armor. “That’s why we needed to talk. That’s why I stopped things that night at the gym. You called me Lucas. That’s not my real name.”
A deep line wedged itself between her brows, and her relaxed posture tensed up. Her gaze darted quickly toward the door as if she was noting her escape routes. She was probably checking off boxes in her head on the list of Signs Your Date Is a Serial Killer. “Your name’s not Lucas.”
He adjusted in the chair, uncomfortable in a way that couldn’t be fixed. “No. And please don’t be scared. I’m not… You’re not in danger, but I need you to know who I am. And I need you to know that I had no idea who you were until after that kiss at the gym. This was…not on purpose. In any way. I would’ve never…”
“Luc—” She bit off the rest of the fake name, and her hand gripped the arm of the couch as though she was ready to launch to her feet and race out the door. “What was not on purpose? Who the hell are you? You’re freaking me out here.”
He rubbed his damp palms on his thighs and braced himself. “Taryn, I’ve been using a different name here in Austin because I wanted to disappear and hide from the press. And the past.”
Her expression pinched into further confusion. “The press?”
“Yes.” He held her gaze. “My real name is Shaw. Shaw Miller.”
“Shaw Miller,” she repeated as though the name didn’t mean anything to her, as though she was testing out the sound. But the moment the name sank in and the connection registered, her face went slack and then horrified, her eyes going wide and her body jerking back as if he’d raised a hand to hit her. She jolted to her feet. “Shaw Miller.”
“Yes,” he said hoarsely.
“As in Joseph Miller’s brother?” Her voice roared through him.
He stood, palms raised. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea who you—”
Fury filled her eyes, making the soft brown go black. “You sick fuck.”
The words were like bullets hitting his flesh, tearing into him.
“Oh my God. Are you kidding me right now?” she demanded. “What is this? Was this some sort of game?”
“Jesus, Taryn. No, of course not. That’s why I tried to stay away. That’s why I left the gym tonight. Once I knew—”
She put her hands in her hair, an anguished look on her face, as if the thoughts were too big and violent to hold in her head. “I can’t believe I kissed you.” She looked up. “And you let me. You knew who I was tonight.”
He shook his head, shame moving through him in a wave and dragging him under. “I know. I’m sorry. I have no excuses. I’m just…so sorry. For the kiss. For Joseph. For everything you’ve been through. You deserve…the world. You didn’t deserve this. I would never want to add any more hurt to your life.”
She stared at him, her gaze jumping around his face, like she was trying to figure something out. No, he realized. She was looking for Joseph in his face.
“You have the same eyes.” Horror tinged the words.
“I’m sorry.” He would apologize for anything at this point. The color of his eyes. The blood that ran through his veins. He could never say sorry enough.
“God, I can’t believe this. How did I not see it? I read about you,” she said, frustration and disbelief there. “You were going for the Olympics.” She cringed. “In gymnastics. Shit. I saw you tumbling the other day, and it never crossed my mind.”
“Taryn…” He wanted to tell her not to blame herself. She’d had no context to place him then. But she was still talking.
“Then you got in trouble,” she said, looking up. “The news stories said you were violent like him. It’s in my notes somewhere.”
“I attacked a reporter.” He wasn’t going to sugarcoat it for her. “I hurt him.”
Taryn’s arms crossed tightly in front her, her stance defensive, her body visibly trembling. “I can’t believe I was this blind. I should’ve recognized you. You’re in my goddamned research file on Joseph’s family history.”
He hated the thought of that. Her knowing his past, the ugly parts. The illusion of Lucas shattered around them both. No clean slates. Only the truth. “I’ve worked hard for no one to be able to easily recognize me. I’ve changed my look. And I broke my nose in that fight. It healed crooked. I don’t look anything like I used to.” He almost stepped closer to her but then realized he was a threat in her eyes now, a danger. “But I never meant it to cause anything like this. I was here to lie low and help Rivers get the gym off the ground. I just…needed to not be Shaw Miller for a while.”
She stared at him for a long moment, the tense line of her jaw softening a little. “Does Rivers know?”
“Yes. He’s been my best friend since freshman year of college. He knows everything. Saw all the stages before, after, and during. Me moving back down here to open the gym was his idea.” Shaw let out a tired breath and shook his head. “I’m sorry you got caught up in it. I knew better. I broke my rules.”
“Your rules?”
“To not get involved with anyone—friendship, relationship, or otherwise,” he explained. “That stuff is off-limits for me.”
She frowned.
“I knew it would be too big
of a risk,” he continued. “I just thought the risk was all mine. I didn’t realize I could hurt someone like you in the process.”
She considered him. “You stopped things that night at the gym before you knew who I was. I didn’t tell you about my research until after. That was because of your rules?”
“The rules were the last thing on my mind in that moment. I forgot them the minute we kissed, but you called me Lucas.” He rubbed the back of his neck, finding it damp. “That snapped me out of it. I’ve done some really shitty things in my life, but I’m not going to take a woman to bed when she doesn’t even know my real name.”
Taryn stepped back and sat on the arm of the couch as if her body was suddenly too heavy to hold up. “My head is spinning. I can’t believe this. Of all the bars to lose my shoe in…”
He wanted to tell her it was his fault. That fate was punishing him, deservedly so. If he hadn’t found her shoe and followed her, he would’ve seen her at the race. She would’ve signed up for sessions at the gym anyway. He was supposed to be tortured. But fate had gotten it wrong because it wasn’t supposed to drag someone like Taryn down with him. “Believe me, I know. I lost my shit when I figured out who you were. I’ll never be able to express how sorry I am.”
She looked up at him. “Your brother killed my sister.”
The words were like a jagged knife twisting into his gut. He lost his air for a second. He nodded. “I know. I’m…so sorry, Taryn.”
She pressed her lips together, but then a determined look came into those brown eyes. “Don’t say you’re sorry for that. You didn’t do it.”
He closed his eyes, a familiar pain racing through him like lightning. “He was my little brother. I wasn’t there to stop him.”
“That doesn’t mean you killed anyone.”
He opened his eyes to find her staring at him.
“You can say you’re sorry for lying to me. You can say you’re sorry for kissing me back tonight. You can say you’re sorry for my loss. But don’t take blame for things that aren’t yours to own. I’ve seen what that can do to a person. Joseph, by all indications, was a sociopath who knew exactly what he was doing. A lot of things had to go wrong to make that happen.” Her throat worked as she swallowed. “I don’t know you, Shaw. Not really. I just know this person you’ve presented to me as Lucas. And I’m angry you lied to me, but I can’t imagine you wanted the shooting to happen or for your brother to become who he became. And I can’t imagine what you’ve been through.” She met his gaze. “So…I’m sorry for your loss, too.”
