11. Chapter 11 #2
I look at them for half a second and feel nothing but mild annoyance that they’re in my way.
I turn and walk out, letting the door swing shut behind me.
I get maybe ten steps down the hall before I hear someone behind me.
“Zed!”
I keep walking, not because I’m trying to be dramatic. Because I genuinely don’t give enough of a shit to stop.
Stacey hurries into my line of sight, still adjusting her top.
“Zed, wait!”
I stop because if I don’t, she’s going to keep following me, and I’m not in the mood to be trailed through the villa by a woman trying to defend herself for something that’s her own damn business.
She reaches me a little breathless, one hand still fixing a strap at her shoulder.
“That wasn’t... I mean, Tanner was just there, you know? I was just... Look, you’ve been so hard to get close to, and I needed something, okay?”
I look at her and say nothing. Because really, what is there to say to that?
“I don’t care about Tanner,” she says quickly. “That’s not what that was. I just don’t want you getting the wrong idea.”
This is so profoundly off base it circles back around to funny. I let out one short breath through my nose and start walking again.
“I’m serious.” She falls into step beside me. “What I did was awful, I know that. But I promise to make it up to you if you let me.”
That’s when I stop and finally look at her.
“You don’t need to explain yourself to me,” I say, because being caught with Tanner doesn’t require a follow-up briefing. “I really and truly couldn’t give less of a shit who you fuck.”
“So, you’re not mad at me?”
Oh, for fuck’s sake.
“No.”
“Oh, thank God!” She puts a hand on her heart with a laugh. “I thought you might be mad. We were just having fun, you know? Like, I shouldn’t be villainized for it, and I’m really glad you’re okay with—”
“Stacey.”
“Yeah?” She looks up at me with a smile, probably because I used her actual name.
“I’m going to walk away now.” I say the words slowly, as if speaking to a child.
“Right, okay.” She nods. “See you around?”
I don’t have an answer to that either, so I start walking again, and thankfully, she doesn’t follow.
I round the corner into the kitchen and find Lilly at the counter, sliding her coffee cup into the dishwasher. There’s a tiny, private curve at the corner of her mouth that tells me she heard enough to enjoy it.
I stop in the doorway and lean one shoulder against the frame.
“Having a good morning?”
“Wonderful, actually,” she says, far too innocently.
Then she turns before I can say another word and slips out of the kitchen.
I watch her go before setting the markers on the counter and following her.
She disappears into the pantry just off the side hall, and by the time I step in after her, she’s already reaching up toward one of the high shelves like she came in here with an actual mission and not because she panicked and fled the scene of her own satisfaction.
The pantry is narrow, with shelves on both sides packed with snacks, paper goods, cereal boxes—all the glamorous machinery of camp life. There’s barely enough room for both of us.
“You know,” I say, closing the door behind me, “people usually pretend to be subtle when they’re eavesdropping.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” She stretches a little higher onto her toes, fingers brushing uselessly at something just out of reach.
I step closer, put both hands on her waist, and lift her up. She lets out a sharp little shriek, her hands flying to my wrists.
“Zed!”
“Reach.”
She stretches and grabs the first thing she can find, which turns out to be a box of napkins she very clearly doesn’t need badly enough to justify this performance.
I set her back down slowly but don’t let go. I keep my fingers wrapped around her waist and step closer.
My mouth lowers near her ear.
“Eavesdropping isn’t polite,” I say quietly, brushing my thumbs along her waist.
“I didn’t hear anything.”
I let out the smallest breath against the side of her neck. “Of course not,” I say, letting my mouth hover just beside her ear.
“Now, if you’ll excuse me...” She clears her throat and tries to tug herself free.
My hands tighten at her waist to make it clear I’m keeping her right where she is.
“I don’t think so.”
The second I grind against her from behind, a sharp gasp breaks out of her. My eyes shut for half a second, the sound going through me like a blade.
Fuck.
I can feel the heat of her through the thin space between us, mixed with the fruity scent of her hair.
“Zed, I don’t know what you’re thin—” She falters when I roll my hips forward, grinding my cock against her slowly.
I run one hand up her side, testing to see how far she’ll let me explore. When all I get is a breathy exhale, I slide it under the hem of her tank top, palm flat against her bare stomach.
A tiny whimper escapes her, and her head falls forward, forehead pressing against the shelf. The pantry door starts to creak open, and I slam my hand against it, shutting it with a hard thud before it can open more than two inches.
“Lilly, is that you?” Stacey’s confused voice comes from the other side. “You okay in there?”
Lilly goes rigid in my hands.
I keep her pinned, my body pressed to her back.
“Answer her.”
Her breath rises and falls, and I can feel the tremble of it against my palm.
“I got my shirt wet,” she says, trying for normal and getting somewhere close. “I’m just changing. I’ll be out in a second.”
There’s a beat of silence.
“Good girl.” My hand slides lower, feeling the way her muscles jump under my touch.
Lilly’s breath hitches, her fingers digging harder into my hand.
“Do you need help?” Stacey shouts.
Lilly’s hips jerk back against me involuntarily.
“N-No!” she gasps. “I’m almost done!”
I smile against her neck and press my lips to her skin.
“Did you see Zed come through here?” Stacey asks through the door.
“Uh...” Lilly glitches completely. “I—uh, no!”
“Haven’t you now?” I murmur, my hand sliding past the waistband of her shorts. Lilly slaps my hand once, and I bite my lip to keep from grinning.
“Well, tell me if you see him anywhere, ok.”