Exclusive Excerpt from Amalgamated

by Becca Seymour

I found him sitting on a small stool, beer in hand and looking directly at me. After the slightest of hesitations, I continued forward. While a part of me considered being a coward and hovering at the door, Zak deserved more than that. The closer I got, the more I struggled not to stumble. Still handsome, still built with a body I’d fantasised over countless nights, and still carrying that fierce gaze with his grey-green eyes that I was sure could see into my soul.

Around this guy, I’d always been the same—dreaming up descriptions on the cusp of damn poetry. Sometimes I wondered how I’d survived for so many years without him catching on to the depth of my feelings, and sometimes I wondered what it would have been like if I’d ever told him the truth. Or certainly done so without me using my words as a weapon.

I shook the thoughts away. Yeah, he still affected me. I snorted internally as he continued to watch me in silence, while I’d stopped just a few short metres away. In truth, affected didn’t even come close. A small, ridiculous part of me had hoped he’d look like shit and hadn’t weathered well over the years. From what I saw of the man before me, he was travelling through his thirties somewhat spectacularly.

When his brow pitched high, I realised I’d been standing before him for Christ knew how long like a damn idiot. Awkwardness had charged into the room and ran around laughing its arse off at me. Not quite the way I’d planned for this to go, but it seemed fitting.

“Hey,” I managed, my voice surprisingly steady. “So I have food for you.” I held out the plate like an offering, hoping he’d do something beyond staring at me with his pretty eyes. When he remained silent, giving me absolutely nothing, I gnawed at the inside of my lip. I took a step forward and swung my gaze to the side where there was another small stool. “I’ll just leave it here.” Placing it down, I didn’t dare risk a glance in his direction, especially considering our closeness.

Jesus, I hated this.

I could barely remember a time growing up without Zak being in the picture, and despite being so close to him, the closest I’d been in five years, I’d never felt further away. I straightened and took a step back. Aware I was going to make my mouth bleed with how damn hard I was worrying it, I needed to take action. To do that, I had to admit what a dick I’d been, and grovel—a lot.

With a sweep of my hand over my hair, I went ahead and blurted out the sorry that should have happened five years ago. “I fucked up.” There was a slight flaring of his eyes. It wasn’t a lot, but it was some sort of reaction at least. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have….” I exhaled heavily, hating myself for being a coward and not doing this sooner. “I shouldn’t have ever put you in that situation. I shouldn’t have caused so much shit then run off.”

My gaze followed his thumb as he brushed it across his lips a moment before he leaned forward, eyes still on me, and propped his elbows on his legs.

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