Chapter 29 #2
I force a chuckle past my tight throat. “I’ve been hearing that a bit lately,” I joke, clasping my coat together to shield myself from the cold wind and the drunken declaration I hope isn’t about to follow.
Brett is a good friend to me, one of the rare people I value having in my life. I’d hate to lose him again.
“From that Zayn guy? Is he your boyfriend now?” He swallows heavy, an air of melancholy surrounding him. “Did I miss my chance again?”
“He isn’t my boyfriend-”
The rest of my words are cut off when Brett’s mouth crashes down onto mine. He kisses me, and it’s sloppy and off centre and tastes like beer, and I just stand there for a few seconds, frozen in shock, before I place my hands on his chest and push him away.
He staggers back slightly, looking at me with wide eyes.
“Brett.” I step back, briefly acknowledging to myself that I felt absolutely nothing when Brett’s lips met mine.
Not a shiver, not a rush, not a single little firework.
Nothing like the sky show that goes off inside me when Zayn kisses me.
“I don’t feel that way about you,” I continue as I wipe my mouth with my coat sleeve.
“I’m sorry if I gave you any impression otherwise, but that was way out of order. ”
He stumbles back against the wall and closes his eyes. “Gia, I’m so sorry. That was so stupid, I’m so drunk-”
“Come on,” I say, grabbing him by the arm and turning back to the waiting Uber with a sigh. “Let’s get you home.”
I wake up the next morning to two text messages.
One from Brett an hour ago.
Brett: I’m so sorry about last night, Gia.
And one from Zayn at 2 a.m.
Zayn: Leaving the office. Can I come over?
So he was at the office until two in the morning with Monica? I leave that text unanswered like his last three, needing time to work through my feelings about it. It probably wouldn’t hurt to have a bit of space to step back to assess how I feel about Zayn and me, anyway.
Another thought strikes me as I roll over and bury my face in my pillow. Do I need to tell Zayn about Brett?
It was a completely one-sided kiss. Should I make him worry about Brett when he has no reason to on my end?
Undecided, I reach for my kindle and try to get lost in my latest read, hoping a mafia romance can distract me from my conflicting thoughts.
I should have known Zayn’s draw is stronger than a Bratva boss.
Tossing my kindle aside, I run a bath instead. I’m about to submerge myself completely under the hot water, hoping to quiet my busy mind in the stillness of the water, when my phone vibrates against the bathroom tiles. My heart skips a beat when I see Zayn’s name on my screen.
“Hello?”
“Hi,” he breathes out, and I detect a hint of relief in his voice. I bite down on my lip, regret at ignoring his texts biting at me. “How was your night out?”
My anxiety somewhat dissipates at the sound of Zayn’s deep, smooth voice in my ear. His attention has to be the most addictive drug in the world, and my heart can’t decide whether it wants to still or start racing as I absorb my latest hit.
Unfortunately, I’m not the only woman who feels this way.
“Fine.” Brett kissed me. “How was your night?” Did Monica kiss you?
“Fine.”
“Guess we’re both fine then.”
“Guess so.”
We both go quiet. I scoop up some bubbles and blow them off my hand.
“What are you doing?” he asks.
“Having a bath.” The line goes quiet again, and I wonder what Zayn’s thinking. He clears his throat.
“What do you have planned for the rest of the weekend?”
I wade my free hand through the water. “Not much. Leo is staying over tonight so Tony and Lia can go out to dinner. She’s due in a couple months so they’re trying to get a few date nights in while they can.”
“Sounds fun. What will you do?” Is he really interested in how I’ll entertain my nephew? The thought is kind of sweet.
“Probably watch a movie. Not Harry Potter, unfortunately,” I sigh dramatically. “What’s Clint Branch like?” I ask, knowing that Zayn’s meeting with him again this morning to discuss his case.
“An asshole, as you’d expect. A stupid one, too, which always makes matters worse.”
I chuckle and flip the tap on with my foot, adding more hot water to the tub.
“For not making his wife sign a prenup?”
“Amongst other things,” Zayn drawls. Then he pauses. “Believe it or not, I can understand not asking for a prenup. Well, not in this case, obviously. But in general.” He hesitates briefly before adding, “I wouldn’t want one.”
I freeze, the bath water going still around me.
“Why not?” I ask carefully. “Don’t you want to protect your assets?”
Daniel and I never signed one, but he wasn’t a multi-million-dollar football player when we got married. If Zayn was to marry, he would be going into it with the millions he’s already made as Melbourne’s best divorce lawyer. He would be crazy not to protect himself.
Zayn lets out a long-suffering sigh. “There’s one person in this world I would ever want to marry. I don’t think she’s out to get my money.”
My pulse jumps into my throat, blood humming beneath my fingertips as I once again glide my hand along the smooth surface of the water.
“Sounds like a ploy,” I joke, trying to ease the tension that’s begun pulling taut between us.
“You’re trying to detract people from them.
If everyone went around signing pre-nups you’d be out of a job. ”
Zayn’s words have evoked a mix of both terror and elation to swirl around inside my gut. The thought of marriage makes me want to break out in hives. The thought of marriage to Zayn makes me want to climb onto my rooftop and start singing. I don’t entertain either of the feelings.
Zayn, ever observant and attuned to me even though the phone, changes the subject.
“I’m meeting Clint for lunch in an hour.”
“Just you?” I ask. I’m sure Zayn can hear my pout through the phone. He hesitates before answering, surely regretting the change of topic now.
“No,” he says carefully. “Monica, too.”
I swallow down my irritation and bat away an annoying bubble that’s settled on my shoulder. “Why didn’t David run this case with you?”
“Clint specifically asked for us.”
Yeah, I bet he did. Probably lining up his next wife. I bat away my unpleasant feelings toward Zayn and Monica being grouped together as an ‘us’.
“Also, David’s been put on notice.”
I freeze, my toe still on the tap. “He has? Why?”
Zayn doesn’t hesitate now. “For harassing my girlfriend.”
His casual use of the term girlfriend makes my stomach flip. Joy overrides every other emotion for the moment.
“Good. He’s the biggest dick I’ve ever seen.”
Zayn chuckles darkly, the deep sound creeping into my chest and squeezing my heart. “We both know that’s not true.”
A laugh bursts from my lips and when my cheeks flame, it has nothing to do with the hot water surrounding me. The tension between us dissolves instantly.
“Are you really making dick jokes right now?”
“Are you really calling me from the bath and expecting my mind to be anywhere except the gutter?”
I’m glad Zayn can’t see the stupidly huge grin that’s split my face in half. He called me his girlfriend, and suddenly everything feels right in the world.