I wonder if all his girlfriends get this treatment. There’s an earthy, dominant warrior quality to him, one that calls to the softness in me. He’s confident and has purpose, and shit, he wants me. I know it in the way he can’t take his eyes off me.
I count the seconds it takes for him to cross the room. One, two, three, four, five and here he is. I try to speak—even a hello would do—but nothing comes out.
Why does he make me so tongue-tied?
“About time you got here,” he says in a gruff voice.
18
Zack
My cock gets hard the second she walks in the door, her face uncertain as she looks for a place to stash her coat. I’ve never known someone who was so attached to a coat. Maybe it’s a Southern thing. It makes me want to dig deeper into her past, into her family and figure out who she really is.
Her dress blows my mind, tight and short and hugging her tits.
The entire day I’ve been itching to see her, and my eyes follow her, taking in the long legs and the way her blonde hair spills down her back.
My hand is shaky as I stick it in my pocket. I want her. I fucking want her and it has shit to do with any resemblance. She ticks all my boxes. She’s introverted and awkward and funny—everything I didn’t know I liked—and her luscious lips with that indentation on the bottom are made for kissing me.
My breathing deepens, watching her face as she speaks to Veronica, and the male in me wants to jump over this railing and get between them. Something in her expression makes me pause, though, and I watch as she handles Veronica with a smirk on her face. Good job, babe. I smile as she flips around and flounces into the kitchen, ass swinging. Veronica glares after her, color rising on her cheeks.
I lean down to watch her walk into the kitchen. Between hockey and therapy, we’ve spent scant time together lately, but I want to change that.
I know she doesn’t know what to think of me yet, but I’m not giving up. There’s no quit in me. I’m a persistent, stubborn sonofabitch, and I’m going to be the last man standing until she’s mine and in my bed.
Reece comes up behind me and exhales.
I can feel his displeasure even though I’m not taking my gaze off her.
He leans over the rail with me. “You’re playing a dangerous game, brother.”
“So you’ve said a hundred times already.”
He sighs. “Look at her. She could be Willow’s sister, man, and you don’t get a redo with someone who’s dead.” He pauses. “She makes me uncomfortable.”
“I’m well aware that she looks like her. That isn’t what this is. If you got to know her like I do, you’d see what I mean.”
He holds his hands up. “Really? Are you listening to yourself? I know you’ve been having nightmares. I hear you. You’re willing to do anything to make those stop.”
“You don’t understand.” My hands tighten, and I look over at him. He’s been walking on eggshells with me since the night I kissed Sugar in front of everyone at the Tipsy Moose, and I’ve been too busy to address it. Frankly, I have too much on my plate right now to indulge his pettiness. Dr. Cole says I need to remove stressors from my life, and fuck if he isn’t one. Sugar isn’t.
His hand strokes his scruff. “Look, I’m just worried about you. You carry all that guilt…” His voice trails off and he lets out a long exhalation.
I do feel guilty. I’m the reason Willow is dead. I’m the reason—
Stop. I take a deep breath.
Part of me is tempted to tell him my relationship with Sugar is pretend, and though it might ease his mind, he’d tell Veronica, and she’d blab it everywhere, so I don’t.
“Just mind your own business, Reece.”
“I just care about you,” he says with a grimace, and then he’s walking past me and down the stairs.
I focus back on Sugar, who’s getting a drink from the bar. Eric runs up to her and twirls her around. I know he’s just clowning around, but, dude, stop. She’s different…
He says something to her, she turns and looks up, and we have one of our stare-offs. I watch her chest moving up and down in that tight dress, the way her lips part when she sees me.