Chapter 19
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Lover.
Maelin
Zakery swears, and my skin buzzes. Something about the fact we’re in a technical relationship—including romantic entanglements—paired with the way he’s looking at me leaves me breathless, flushed, shy.
Probably it has everything to do with how I’m in a silk night set wearing a sheer robe sitting on my black bed and intentionally posing.
No doom scrolling or napping here.
Nope.
I’m modeling .
For my, all intents and purposes, boyfriend .
Who keeps cussing, swallowing hard, and giving slight instructions.
Look down a little more. Swear. Yes. Lift your arms a little higher. Swear, swear. Good. Excellent. Swear. You’re so beautiful. And you made this. And you’re my lover. And swearing swears.
He is… blindingly happy.
He’s even laughing when he insults himself.
So.
You know.
This is fine .
What’s a little embarrassment?
“Okay,” he whispers, and my insipid heart lifts, eager to please as it awaits another instruction followed by praise. I like praise, apparently. Harry did not provide much of that stuff. But I really, really like it. “You can relax now. I have the information I need.”
As I lower my arms, he sits on the bed, up against the pillow I slept on last night, and pulls a leg up to rest his tablet on as he keeps working.
I scoot toward him. (Inconspicuously.)
“What are you doing?” he murmurs, still smiling when he cuts a look my way.
I am very interested in the nightstand my sketchbook is on, not in whatever he might be doing—duh. “Nothing…”
“No peeking. At least give me a chance to make it something worth your attention.”
A five minute scribble would be worth my attention if he drew it. I’ve been posing for nearly thirty.
Nevertheless, I respect his wishes, take up my sketchbook, and settle myself in to doodle new ideas. Working with the sheer fabric of my robe this morning just about drove me insane. It’s a good thing I woke up at four. That gave me time to have my breakdown and finish up before Zakery was bringing me breakfast. He thought I’d still be in bed. On top of not wanting me to feel like I had to go downstairs and brave his family again after last night, he was trying for the romantically cliché breakfast in bed.
You know—he said—since we’re lovers now, he must strive to provide me with romantic gestures. So I feel wanted, appreciated, and cared for.
It is a starkly different experience than anything I’m used to.
I’d assume it was love bombing if he were any less confused in his sincerity. The man very deeply does not know what he’s doing, but he’s doing it anyway, and narrating his intentions as he goes.
“Do you like cutesy or sexy?” I ask.
“I don’t understand the question.”
I sketch a figure and add a low-cut back. “I’m still trying to pin down what sort of dress I want for the Creator’s Ball. I know the details I’d like to incorporate, but I’m not sure on style, and it’s occurred to me that ball might be a stretch. Is this actually an evening gown event more than a ball gown event?”
“Ah,” he says. “It doesn’t matter. You can do what you want. You’ll be with five men.” He furrows his brow at his tablet screen. “Who bite .”
That’s…reassuring? “But what do you like?” I ask.
He stills, glancing at me. “I like what you’re wearing right now.”
“I can’t go to a fancy event in basically pajamas.”
“You can. We bite, remember?”
“I am not comfortable going to a fancy event in basically pajamas.”
“Ahh.” He nods. “That’s something else entirely. Got it. I want extravagance. I love the motion of fabric, what it adds to a piece. Elegance and grace. Movement.”
“Layers?” I ask.
“Layers,” he confirms.
I add ripples to the skirt, off-shoulder sleeves, floral hints, butterflies. It’ll pair perfectly with the golden branches I plan to work into Zakery’s ensemble. (Just as soon as pants and I come to an… agreement .) Black and gold for him. White and gold for me.
It might, violently, look like a wedding dress…
But—I glance at his cryptic expression—I think I can live with that.
Who knows?
Maybe it’ll even save us time later.
?
“You’re dating Zakery?” Morana asks as she drives us home.
If I’m honest, I don’t want to go home tonight, but I know I need to slow down, at least a little. If Harry is any indication, I fall fast, and then I cling, no matter what happens, until the moment when I’m thrown aside.
I can’t take that again.
My heart won’t be able to survive it.
Tugging on my sun hat, I watch quaint buildings and shop fronts bursting with floral colors stream by outside the window. “Yes, I’m dating Zakery.”
“What happened last night?”
Nothing. Everything.
So much.
So little.
I shrug.
Her gaze cuts toward me, and she lets out a breath. “I figured it was bound to happen. That man is obsessed with you.”
“Professionally.”
“Right. Professionally he takes you out to eat at elegant tea parlors and furnishes a room across from his with all your favorite things. That’s real professional. Actually, Helena offered the very same thing to me once. I told her no, of course, because I hate her. But she tried. For the sake of professionalism .”
You know what? Zakery did furnish a room across from his with all my favorite things, and I am giving them up for an entire night, in order to spend time with my turd of a sister.
Understandably, my lip juts in a pout. “This relationship development isn’t a big deal right now. I think we’re just testing the waters. Seeing what might happen.”
We absolutely haven’t discussed meeting Mom and Dad as a precursor to getting married at all . Not even once.
Slow. Steady. Stable. That’s me in this relationship. Altogether very, very rational and reasonable and…
My phone buzzes in my pocket, so I slip it out and peek over my sunglasses at the screen.
It’s an unknown number. But I think I know who it is.
Unknown: Miss you.
Unbidden, my toes curl as I smile and add Zakery to my contacts.
Maelin: I hope dinner is less eventful tonight without me there.
Zakery: I hope the disaster that was dinner last night doesn’t keep you from staying over again.
Maelin: If my sister keeps yammering about our relationship, I might just live in my studio so long as you don’t mind bringing me food sometimes, lol
Zakery: I would be delighted to feed my seamstress mouse in her little studio full-service apartment. Hoarding your beauty away all for myself and spoiling you endlessly would be a dream come true.
“Maelin, are you paying attention to me at all?” Morana interjects into my lovely, not at all conspiratory, conversation.
My smile transforms into another jutted lip. “Mhm. Absolutely.”
Maelin: I think Morana is in need of attention.
“Oh really?” she declares. “What did I just say?”
Zakery: Don’t let me keep you.
“Maelin, are you paying attention to me at all,” I parrot.
Zakery: We’ll talk more tomorrow. Goodnight, princess. Sleep well.
Blushing, I smile while Morana says, “ Before that, you little twerp.”
Maelin: Night, prince. Until the morning.
I lock my phone and look at my sister, grinning stupidly.
She sighs. “Was that him?”
“ Maaaybeeee ,” I drawl.
Her eyes roll as she changes lanes and turns into our manicured neighborhood. “So you really like the guy, huh?”
I bobblehead. “Yeah. I really do.”
“Well,” she murmurs as she pulls into our driveway and cuts the engine, “if he hurts you, you know I’ll be your handler.”
“You were a sucky handler.”
Her face twists. “I had an emergency excuse. Our entire livelihood was on the line.”
Yep.
It was.
And Zakery was the one who fixed everything, gave us back our peace and financial security, and granted Morana a job where she doesn’t have to deal with pretentious rich people, all while spoiling me rotten and feeding self-esteem back into my soul…
Looking down at the black screen of my phone, I smile.
This time, things will be different.
Feelings or not, this time I will be treated with love.
And, like the saying goes, actions speak louder than emotions.