"I handled last night wrong," Locke says quietly, not looking up. “This morning, too.”
I lift my chin, watching the line of his profile in the dark. "Which part, handsome?”
A faint, tired tug pulls at the corner of his mouth, though there’s no humor in it. "The part where I let Cobra talk to you like you were just a liability. The part where I stood there like a goddamn statue and let you drive away feeling like you didn't mean anything."
He turns his head, his eyes fixing on mine. The shadow in them is raw, exposed, and completely stripped of the MC mask he’d worn in the kitchen earlier.
"I’m sorry for how I said it, Zara," he says, his voice thick and steady. "I’m sorry I let it sound like you were less than. I'm sorry I let you walk away thinking I didn't see you."
The knot in my c
