Chapter 21 #2
I froth the milk to distract myself from the emotion welling inside me. “Do you think you’re stronger than the might of an entire football team?” I pour hot milk over the coffees. “It’s a powerful organisation that would silence me before I even started talking.”
“I am stronger, Gianna. I wouldn’t let you be silenced.”
“No. And that’s my final answer.”
There’s a weighted silence between us, but Zayn doesn’t push the matter further as I reach for the chocolate shaker and sprinkle some on top to complete the cappuccinos. I haven’t told another soul about what happened with Daniel. I’m not going to start broadcasting it now.
I turn and hand Zayn his cup, careful to avoid his gaze. I can’t stand to see the disappointment there. Our fingers graze when he takes it, sending a jolt up my arm.
Then Zayn lifts the mug in front of his eyes.
“What does ‘Property of the High Reeve’ mean? And why is there a picture of Draco Malfoy on my mug?”
“Whoops, that one’s mine.” I take the mug off him and place the other one in his hand.
“What have I missed in the Harry Potter world? Don’t we hate Draco?”
I lean back against the sink with a smile, grateful for the light-hearted change of topic. We’re facing each other, coffees in hand, in my tiny kitchen. Such a mundane, normal thing to be doing on a Saturday morning, and I can’t believe I’m doing it with Zayn.
“Oh, you’ve missed so, so much. It’s all about Dramione for me now.”
“What the hell is Dramione?” He takes a sip of his coffee and I thank the heavens he doesn’t spit it out like Brett did last night. The beauty of a coffee machine that does it all for you.
“Keep up, honestly. Draco and Hermione. Fans have written thousands of different stories where they end up together. It’s the adult equivalent of Harry Potter and I will never, ever get sick of reading about them falling in love over and over again in thousands of different ways.”
He stares at me over the top of his cup for a long moment.
“Interesting. I shouldn’t be surprised that’s how you spend your free time though,” he drawls. “Your two greatest loves combined.”
I raise a brow at him.
“Reading and Harry Potter.”
I snort. “Guess I am still the same person you knew ten years ago. And what do you do for fun these days? I take it not much seeing as you were working until 8:30 last night.”
“I have a lot of work to do,” he shrugs, and I resist the urge to reach over and wipe off the chocolate that’s on his bottom lip.
“Yes, very important stuff being a big divorce lawyer. Imagine all the ex-wives who would actually get what’s owed to them if you didn’t pour all your time into under-handing them.”
“You have me all figured out, don’t you, Gianna?” He smirks, unfazed by my insult. “Trust me, I’m not the villain here.”
“No, but you aid and abet the villains.”
“That suggests I’m doing something illegal. I assure you I’m not.”
I scoff. “Illegal? No. Immoral? Yes. I think you could be putting your skills to better use, like helping women instead of rich, powerful men.”
“A few of my clients are women,” he counters calmly between sips. “I’m helping Beth.”
I seal my lips shut against what I want to say to him. He just raises an amused brow. “Say it.”
“One pro bono case doesn’t an honourable career make.”
“Are you calling me dishonourable?” He grins wickedly, placing his cup down. “Because I’ve been doing everything in my power to do the honourable thing lately, and I’m not talking about work.”
Woah.
The air shifts between us, growing heavy and hazy when Zayn takes a tentative step toward me.
The smirk slips from his face as I clutch my mug to my chest, the breath hitching in my throat.
When he takes another step, his dark eyes locked on mine, a tremor rips through my hands.
He lifts a hand, and my blood thrums in my veins.
His hand hovers beside my head for a moment, giving me the opportunity to stop him.
When I don’t, he slowly, carefully, cups my cheek with his huge, warm palm, as gentle as if he was cradling glass.
A shiver trails down my spine. How can one touch from him do this to me?
“I’ll show you just how dishonourable I can be.”
His thumb grazes my bottom lip, and his gaze drops to my mouth as he runs his thumb slowly from side to side.
Then he stares down at me, waiting for me to make the next move, to let him know this is okay.
And I find myself wanting him. If I’m being honest, I’ve wanted him from the first moment I saw him in that hotel room, and tenfold since he revealed who he really is.
It goes deeper than lust, even though I do want to climb his body like a tree.
It’s a soul-deep yearning for him that I’m starting to realise only grows stronger the more I see that the man Zayn has become is not that different to the boy I once loved.
I could so easily reach up and pull his lips down to meet my own. Join our mouths together in a blistering kiss that would set my heart on fire and scorch my chest until only the ashes of my heart remain. And I want to. I want to so, so bad.
But I can’t.
If I take that step with him, it will be all or nothing. And right now, he might not want it all. It’s not like I can ask him.
Hi Zayn, I know we’ve only just seen each other after ten years apart, but if I kiss you now will you be my boyfriend?
Yeah, nah.
So instead of taking that step, I put my hand over his and gently pull away from his touch. Then I nod my chin to my chest and stare down into my barely touched coffee, before he can read the conflicting feelings on my face. “We should go,” I say around the lump in my throat. “I’m starving.”
A weighted moment passes between us before I feel Zayn pull away, both mentally and physically. He’s being respectful of my decision, but I feel the loss of him as strongly as I would feel the loss of a limb. Which only proves to me I did the right thing.
I glance up at him, goosebumps ripe on my skin, and his face is perfectly composed. The only subtle sign of his internal displeasure is the clench of his jaw, which is what I realise I seek out now to convince myself Zayn isn’t the emotionless robot he wants everyone to believe him to be.
He opens a palm to the front door. “Lead the way.”