Chapter 9
Chapter
Nine
JENNY
T he conservatory is still, the air thick with the scent of blooming flowers. I can hardly think straight, my mind buzzing with everything I’ve heard tonight about Brett’s engagement. I shouldn’t care. I should turn away and let him go, but a part of me isn’t ready to give up so easily. The door creaks open, and I tense, expecting Brett…ready to face him, maybe even to demand answers.
But it’s Zack who walks in, not Brett.
I stiffen, thrown off by his unexpected presence. My heart picks up, both wary and puzzled.
What is Zack doing here? Where’s Brett?
He moves with his usual calm confidence, dark eyes fixed on me as he approaches with a bottle of champagne and two glasses in hand. My heart beats faster.
Zack’s dark eyes meet mine, unreadable and intense, like he can see through any facade I might put up. He doesn’t break eye contact as he approaches, stopping just close enough that I feel the weight of his gaze.
“Jenny,” he says, his voice low, almost too casual. “Brett won’t be joining you tonight. He’s had… an accident.”
A wave of worry hits me, sharp and immediate. “An accident?” I ask, my voice tight despite my attempt to stay composed. “Is he hurt? Where is he?”
Zack raises a hand, his expression calm and steady, as if to keep me from spiraling. “He’s fine, Jenny. Nothing too serious,” he assures me. “He just needs to stay off his feet and rest for a few days.”
Relief washes over me, though it’s quickly replaced by lingering concern. “But… what happened? How did he get hurt?” I press, needing to know more.
Zack hesitates, glancing away briefly before meeting my gaze again. “Brett asked me not to share the details,” he says evenly, almost too controlled. “He’s resting, that’s what matters.”
He pauses, watching me closely as he uncorks the bottle, pouring a glass of champagne and handing it to me. “It seems you’re left with me tonight.”
I take the glass, eyeing him warily. “And I suppose you’re here to tell me I shouldn’t be around him,” I say, meeting his gaze directly. “Because he’s engaged, and that’s what’s expected of him.”
Zack’s expression shifts, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his face. “You’re right. Brett does have obligations, Jenny,” he replies, his tone careful, controlled. “Ones he can’t afford to ignore.”
I feel a surge of frustration and hurt, the tension between us thickening. “So, is that why you’re here?” I say, my voice sharper than I intended, refusing to look away. “You’ve come to offer me money to walk away? That’s how these things work with families like yours, isn’t it? The girl gets paid off, told to disappear quietly.”
A hint of amusement flickers across his face, and a small, almost daring smile plays at the corners of his mouth. “A million,” he says smoothly, his tone deceptively calm. The number is ridiculous, thrown out so casually, but there’s something in the way he says it…like he’s daring me to take the bait…that sends a chill down my spine.
My grip tightens around the champagne glass, fighting against the surge of emotions within me.
“No, Zack,” I say, keeping my voice steady despite the turmoil churning inside. “None of this has anything to do with money. I’ve loved Brett all my life… and I still do.”
For a second, his gaze flickers, a hint of something inscrutable passing through those dark eyes of his. Then, just as quickly, he gives a faint smile, shrugging slightly as if the whole conversation were trivial, a throwaway moment.
“Well,” he says smoothly, almost dismissively, “lucky for you, it wasn’t a serious offer.”
His tone is casual, almost too light, as though he’s trying to set me at ease. I don’t quite trust it, but I feel the tension between us slip just a fraction, the sharp edge blurring as he shifts, glancing around the conservatory. He picks up his glass, takes a sip, and then looks back at me, studying me with that calm, assessing gaze of his.
“So, Paris…” he says, his voice trailing slightly. “It must have been an incredible experience.”
I stiffen, caught off guard. Paris was indeed an experience but I’m in no mood to discuss it with Zack of all people. I shake my head, trying to deflect. “There’s really nothing to say about it right now.”
His eyes narrow slightly, not with anger but with a kind of piercing curiosity, as if he’s trying to read between my words. “Nothing at all?” he presses, not letting me sidestep. “You came back a different person, Jenny. It’s hard to believe you wouldn’t have a few thoughts about the place.”
I sigh, exasperated, but he doesn’t back down. He holds my gaze, his persistence disarming in a way that’s almost maddening. “Honestly, Zack, I don’t feel like talking about Paris.” I bite the inside of my cheek, trying not to lose my patience. “I just want to see Brett… to make sure he’s alright.”
Something in his expression tightens, and for the briefest second, his eyes flash with a dark intensity that makes me want to step back. But he recovers quickly, his voice smooth and steady.
“You’ll have to respect Brett’s privacy, Jenny. He’ll reach out to you when he’s ready.”
A spark of frustration flares inside me. “How convenient that he’s disappeared and I won’t be able to see him for a few days…especially when you just saw him a few minutes ago,” I say, my voice edged with irritation. “You can’t keep me away from him.”
He tilts his head, his gaze never leaving mine. “I’m not keeping him away from you,” he says quietly, though there’s a subtle undertone to his words. “I’m just asking you to consider that Brett might need a little space. Not everything revolves around you.”
Just as I open my mouth to retort, a familiar, haunting melody fills the conservatory, an old song I’ve loved since I was young. My anger wavers, caught off guard by the sound, and Zack notices immediately. He glances at me, one eyebrow raised, a trace of amusement in his expression.
“Shall we?” he says, extending his hand, his tone gentler than before. “It’s the least I can do since you were expecting… someone else.”
I hesitate, every instinct screaming at me to refuse, to pull away. But his hand is already outstretched, and the soft music wraps around us, a quiet invitation. Almost without thinking, I reach out, letting my fingers slip into his. He pulls me in close, his grip steady, almost comforting, as we begin to sway to the music.
“You never struck me as the dancing type,” I say quietly, trying to keep the mood light, though there’s an undeniable tension in the air between us.
His mouth curves into a small, sardonic smile. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Jenny,” he replies, his voice low and measured. “But I’d wager you’re used to that by now.”
His words sting, and I can’t help but look down, a strange mix of emotions swirling inside me.
He leads with an unexpected grace, guiding me across the conservatory with an ease that makes me feel as though I’m stepping into another world. The music fills the silence, each note weaving between us, breaking down the guarded distance I’ve tried so hard to maintain.
Just as the song begins to fade, Zack’s hand shifts to my lower back, pulling me closer, his gaze intense and unwavering. I don’t know why I can’t look away, why I can’t pull back…but there’s a power in his eyes that holds me captive.
And then, without warning, his mouth is on mine.
The kiss is overwhelming, pulling me in like nothing I’ve ever felt before. My mind goes blank, my pulse racing as his lips press against mine, firm yet somehow… gentle, a strange combination of control and warmth. It’s nothing like I imagined a kiss would be…so intense, so consuming that I feel as though the world has fallen away, leaving only the two of us.
And then, just as suddenly as it began, reality crashes back. The meaning of this kiss hits me like a cold wave, a reminder that this isn’t right, that this isn’t Brett. I break away, shocked and breathless, and before I even know what I’m doing, my hand flies up and I slap him, hard, my palm stinging from the impact.
He doesn’t flinch. Instead, he looks at me with an expression I can’t quite decipher, his eyes dark and steady, a trace of something almost… vulnerable flickering there for just a moment.
“I’m sorry,” he says softly, his voice barely above a whisper. The apology sounds genuine, though I can’t make sense of the way he’s looking at me, like he’s somehow lost in the same confusion I’m feeling.
My heart hammers in my chest, every beat echoing with the intensity of what just happened. I nod stiffly, accepting Zack’s quiet apology, though my mind is a whirlwind of disbelief and confusion. I’m still reeling from the feeling of his lips on mine, the shock of it… something I’d never expected, something I’d never thought I’d want.
He steps back, his gaze lingering on me for a heartbeat longer than it should. There’s an unspoken tension, a current running between us that leaves me breathless and unnerved. And then, without another word, he turns and leaves, his figure slipping out of the conservatory as if he’d never been here at all. I stand frozen, the silence closing in, my thoughts spiraling, tangling around what just happened.
A part of me feels robbed, wondering how it would feel to share something so intense with Brett, the person I’ve wanted for so long. It should have been him, it’s always been him in my mind… but now, with Zack’s kiss lingering on my lips, I don’t even know what to think.
The thought makes me shiver, filling me with a strange, almost painful longing. I close my eyes, imagining Brett instead, trying to replace the feeling, to picture his touch, his presence. But no matter how hard I try, I can’t shake the feeling that Zack’s kiss has left… a feeling that refuses to fade.