boots.
I’m not trying to make it easy.
Those were his words—words that couldn’t mean what I thought they did—but the longer he held my stare, the more uncertain I became. The air was chilly in here, but my skin felt too warm. My pulse was staccato, and while there was a small part of me that felt silly, like we were playing pretend at being normal for a few hours, I was having the best night I could remember in a long time—and we still had tomorrow. A day of sightseeing and just...hanging out. I was so excited for it that I wanted to fast-forward time as well as press Pause to actually savor the anticipation. Sort of like how I always enjoyed Christmas Eve over Christmas. It was the buildup, the excitement and wonder of what was to come.
A feminine throat cleared, and I jerked my gaze from Zayne’s to the source. It was the waitress. What was her name? Daisy? Dolly? Her loose blond hair looked super glossy and bouncy—and quite different from the ponytail she’d been rocking when we first walked in.
Zayne looked up with a smile. “Have we worn out our welcome yet?”
The normal answer should’ve been yes. We’d been here too long and hadn’t ordered dessert. We hadn’t even looked at the dessert menu.
That was, of course, not the answer.
“Of course not, honey.” The woman clasped her hands together, creating a rather deep display of impressive cleavage. “You’re more than welcome to stay as long as you like. I just wanted to make sure there wasn’t anything else you needed.”
“I’m fine.” Zayne looked over at me. “Trin?”
I glanced at my half-filled Coke and shook my head.
“We’re good.” Zayne glanced to where his phone sat on the table. It had been lighting up every so often, and I’d wondered who was texting him. He’d responded once. “Actually, we should get the check.” His gaze found its way back to me. “Unless you want dessert?”
“God.” I laughed. “If I did, the next stop will be Nap Town, population me.”
He gave me a lopsided grin. “Just the check, please.”
As the waitress hurried off, I cocked an eyebrow, and Zayne stared at me like he had no idea why I was looking at him. Could he be that oblivious? “What time is it?”
“Almost nine,” he answered.
“What?” I exclaimed. We hadn’t come straight here from the park; we’d gone back to the apartment, because Zayne had needed to run down to the office manager or something, but we’d been here for almost three hours.
Zayne sat back, lifting his shoulder. “Time doesn’t exist when you’re enjoying yourself.”
That was true.
He gave a curt shake of his head. “You know, I lied to you.”
My brows lifted. “About what?”
“Remember when you asked me if I’d ever wanted to be something other than a Warden?” he asked, and I nodded. “I don’t know why I started thinking about that, but I didn’t tell you the truth. I think I lied because I was caught so off guard by the question.”
I remembered that he’d said no one had asked him that before, and I was guessing that even meant Layla. “What was it?”
Zayne nodded. “When I was a kid, I... I wanted to be a doctor.” He turned his head, and I would’ve sworn on my life that his cheeks were pink. “A trauma doctor.”
“A trauma doctor? Wow.” I couldn’t help myself. “That’s a great profession for egotistical personalities.”
He laughed that laugh of his, making me grin like a fool. “Are you calling me an egomaniac?”
“Never,” I teased. “What made you want to be a doctor?”
“I don’t know. Actually, I do.” He shoved a hand through his hair. “Every Saturday morning, my father used to take me to this ice cream shop in the city. It’s one of those old-style parlors that looks like something out of a different era, and it was a tradition that I ended up carrying on with Layla.”
Expecting to feel a familiar surge of jealousy, I was surprised when all I felt was a twinge of sadness. Not because of Layla. Not because that could’ve—should’ve—been me, but because Misha and I had had our little rituals, too.
“Anyway, one time when I was there with my father, a woman ran in carrying a boy who’d been hit by a car. Blood was everywhere, and nobody moved as the kid’s mother screamed for help. Even Dad had frozen. Can you imagine that? A Warden like him, rendered incapable by an unexpected human accident?”
“No,” I