Chapter 20
Chapter Twenty
Presley
“Jesus, Presley.” Heather steps up close to my side. “I swear that man got hotter since the last time he was in here. Please tell me you took my advice and jumped him the first chance you got.”
“Right now that man is on my shitlist, and there is a strong possibility he may not make it through the night alive.”
“Death by sex.” She sighs and I roll my eyes. “Sex with a god like that would be an amazing way to go.” She isn’t wrong, because he is pretty good, but I won’t tell her that. Right now I am angry and I refuse to let it go.
Who does he think he is showing up here with that kind of attitude?
“More like strangulation,” I tell her as I cash out my machine and plug it into the charging port. “Just promise me if I call you later and need help hiding a body you won’t ask any questions, you’ll just show up with a shovel and leave your phone at home so no one can pin you at the scene.”
She laughs, as I walk away and grab my coat.
“Angry sex is super hot.”
“Girl you really need to find you a man,” I tell her rolling my eyes.
“Tell me about it, he wouldn’t happen to have a younger brother would he?”
“You can have him,” I tell her, picking up my bag and tossing it over my shoulder.
“Please don’t tease me, that is incredibly cruel.”
Smiling at her, I push through the swinging door, turn around, and come face to face with none other than the Neanderthal I’d like to tie to my bumper and take for a spin around the block.
“Pretty sure it would take more than you and squirrelly over there to take me out. Not sure you’d be able to haul my body in or out of a vehicle.” He is staring at me, and I refuse to cave.
“I’m willing to give it a shot,” I say with a shrug.
“You really wanna off me, sweetheart?”
“I didn’t until you barged in here acting like a raging?—”
“Bitch,” he finishes for me with a chuckle. “Isn’t that what you called me?”
“Yep.” I cross my arms over my chest. “Did you take your Midol?”
“You done?”
“I’m just getting started,” I tell him and his smile widens.
“I meant are you done here?”
Without answering him I push past, my shoulder bumping into him. Of course he barely shifts because I swear he’s got fifty pounds on me. Damn bear of a man and his attitude. Right now, I am not his fan.
In fact, he is on my shitlist and the list is long and full of assholes I’d love to drag along I-25.
“Let’s take a drive,” he hollers after me as I exit the cafe and start walking to my car.
“I’m perfectly fine to drive myself, thank you.”
“Then I’ll follow you to your place.”
“I don’t remember inviting you,” I say as I yank open my car door and toss my bag inside before climbing in.
“You didn’t,” he chuckles, “but I will see you there anyway.”
The object of this game was to beat him there, get inside my apartment, and lock the door. Then I could shut him out and call it a night.
But when I pulled into the parking lot and saw him leaning against the side of his truck with his ankles crossed, wearing a satisfied grin on his face, defeat washed over me. I sat in my car, staring out through the windshield at his pleased smirk and it irritated me.
“Smiling like that isn’t going to get you any closer to getting inside my apartment,” I say more to myself considering I’m tucked safely in my car and he is too far away to hear. He stares at me and I stare right back, feeling my anger slowly dissipate.
The truth is I am exhausted. This week alone I have worked overtime ten hours already and I have two more five hour shifts. I’m pushing myself, I’m wearing down fast, but I also won’t admit that aloud.
“You gonna get out?”
“Are you going to go home?” I ask, looking up to see him moving in closer to my partially opened window.
“Let me help you inside.” He reaches out to open my door. “Once you are comfortable, we’ll talk.”
“We don’t need to talk.” I don’t attempt to get out. I can feel myself losing control of my emotions and I blame it on the hormones. I’m usually so put together. I can hide when I am falling apart, it’s something I have always been good at. But being pregnant weakens my strength, turning me into a blubbering mess of imbalanced moods.
“We do.” He kneels down, my door now fully open. Reaching out Zac touches my knee and I feel myself fading a little more. “I’m sorry I came in like I did but it doesn’t change what I need to say. It doesn’t change that I need you to hear me.”
“I’m tired, Zac.” My chest burns, my throat too. “I need a shower, and glass of milk and my bed.”
“Okay, so let me get you inside.” He drags his hand up and down my thigh. “We don’t have to talk tonight, but we do need to talk.”
Turning in my seat I place my feet on the pavement and he doesn’t move, instead he falls forward onto his knees bringing himself in closer. “I’m here,” he says, placing his fingers beneath my chin, tipping it up so he can see me clearly. “And so we are clear, it’s not just because you are carrying my baby, Pres, I am here because I want to be. I’m not the bad guy here. I know it’s not easy for you to lean on anyone, but I need you to lean on me.”
I shake my head, fighting the tears and he keeps pushing.
“The other night, you and Gray at my place, that felt so right. I loved every single minute of that night and into the morning. Every part of it.”
I can’t do this.
“Lean on me, baby.” And there it goes, my control. “Let me be the guy that you deserve. Let me be the rock you’ve never had.”
“I can’t,” I whisper, my lower lip trembling.
“You can,” he assures me, pressing a soft kiss to my lips. “You just have to stop fighting it so hard. You have to give me a little trust and believe me when I say that I promise you won’t regret doing so.”