“About time you got here,” he says in a gruff voice before cupping my face and kissing me.
It’s hard and sweeping and possessive.
I shouldn’t like it.
Fire and need all mixed together consume my body and I kiss him back, our mouths clinging. Each time we kiss, it’s as if it’s the first time, and I’m baffled by the intense desire that rises up inside me. Keeping his arm wrapped around my waist, he ends the kiss and stares down at me, his face shuttering, as if he doesn’t want me to know how it affected him.
I swallow, ignoring the stares from the players and girls in the kitchen. Some of the gazes are speculative, and a few are just downright jealous.
My voice is shaky. “Academy Award for your acting skills.”
“Not pretending.” His hand reaches out, toys with a piece of my hair, and he pauses, almost as if he might say something else but then changes his mind.
We’ve been here for a few minutes just talking about our week when a pretty girl comes up to us and throws her arms around Z. With honey-blonde hair and a perfect bow for a mouth, she’s dressed in a mini skirt and a flowy white shirt that’s nearly see-through. I wonder if she’s as cold as I am.
“Z! Happy Birthday!” she says, fluttering long black lashes up at him.
He arches a brow. “It’s Eric’s birthday.”
“Whatever. It’s the same.” She titters and rubs his arm. “We can celebrate everyone’s birthday any way you want.”
Z is unsmiling. “Have you met my girlfriend? This is Sugar.”
She swivels her head and gives me an envious glance, her gaze raking over my dress and sizing me up. “Hi, I’m Lola. Cute dress.”
I don’t even speak. I just glare down at her from my taller height and arch my brow with as much disdain as I can muster. Who the hell does she think she is? I don’t want her hands on him.
Her gaze sharpens. “Oh, hey, are you the girl who dated Bennett? The singer?” She gives me a knowing look and then smirks. “Lucky you. First him and now Z—you won the lottery.”
Z isn’t someone to win, and I cringe—not that she notices, already turning right back to him, her hand on his arm, talking about hockey and how great he is and how her brother wants to play for HU.
I want to pluck her eyeballs out, throw them on the ground, and stomp.
And that terrifies me.
My heart picks up the pace and I swallow down a wave of fear. Bennett had girls with starry eyes all over him, but this feeling…I might turn into a cavewoman if she doesn’t step off.
But he isn’t really yours, I remind myself.
Right.
She laughs up at him, her breasts straining against her shirt, and the room grows hot and oppressive. I try to get a read on him, to see if maybe he’s slept with her before, and the mere idea of it makes me queasy.
Fuck this.
“I need some air,” I murmur then brush past them toward the back door, but he catches up with me, holding my hand and leaving Lola mid-sentence with a frown on her face.
“Hey, don’t go. I need you next to me to help with this very thing.”
“Z, be honest—you can handle these girls. You don’t need me.”
“I do.”
His voice has softened, and I don’t think he means running girls off.
And that scares me too.
I unlace our hands. “I need a minute alone, okay?”
He frowns and exhales then watches me walk out the door. I suck in the cold air as I press hot hands to my cheeks.
Someone laughs and I look around. There are people milling about on the large wooden deck, most of them keeping warm at one of the gas heaters stationed in various places. What am I doing here? Why is he making me so crazy?
“We built this thing ourselves last year,” Eric calls from across the deck. I didn’t see him when I first came out, but he leaves a group of girls to walk over to me. He frowns as he gets closer. “You having a good time?”
“Of course.”
I guess I wasn’t convincing because he takes my elbow and we drift a few more feet away so we’re out of earshot of the other partygoers. We stand next to a heater.