Dani hissed, looking around furtively. She wouldn’t even address that nonsense joke about a crush, but using the word fake in public might undo Zaf’s professional progress. The Social Media Forces That Be could be lurking anywhere. The tatted and pierced teenager gloomily gnawing at a croissant in the corner might whip a badge out of nowhere and arrest them in the name of publicity stunts. “Don’t make me regret telling you.”
Sorcha rolled her eyes. “As if I couldn’t have guessed. All jokes aside, even Zaf isn’t hot enough to cure you of your relationship phobia.”
“Another word about this in public and I’ll shove you through a window.”
“I might believe that if you didn’t look as blissed out as a dead saint.”
Considering the turn this conversation had taken, that couldn’t possibly be true anymore. Yet Dani caught a glimpse of her distorted reflection in the metallic side of the coffee grinder and realized that Sorcha was, somehow, correct.
Well. It had been six months without sex, and for Dani, that was rather a while. A little excitement was to be expected. Which explained why, by the time she sailed into Echo and slapped down Zaf’s morning coffee, she was ready to vault over the desk and rip his bodice like a true romance hero.
Until she saw his face.
“Morning,” he said gently, the low gravel of his voice standing out above the familiar whining of passing staff and students. His hair was messier than usual, falling over his forehead like glossy ink, which meant he’d been running his hands through it. His heavy-lidded eyes were cradled by shadows like indigo thumbprints, which meant he’d slept even less than usual, and his golden skin looked pale against the black of his beard.
“Oh no,” Dani blurted.
He blinked, then arched an eyebrow.
Since she couldn’t let the rest of that rogue thought spill out—it ended with mortifying concern, as in, Oh no, are you okay?—she searched for something else to say. After a moment of roiling nerves and surprisingly intense worry, she settled on, “You’re confiscating the dick, aren’t you?”
Because he probably was. He’d been fine, if a little quiet, during their five-minute phone calls last night, but that didn’t mean a thing. People hid their feelings all the time, wrapped them up tight until the pressure turned explosive, and then boom: your self-image was in tatters and you were throwing someone’s clothes out the window in a rubbish bag like Keyshia Cole.
Zaf had probably put the phone down and spent the rest of the night balancing Dani’s many faults with his various romantic ideals, and had decided even the majestic power of her tits (bountiful, obviously) and tongue (long and very flexible, in case anyone was wondering) just wasn’t enough to lead him into joyous sin. He certainly wouldn’t be the first to make a negative worth calculation when it came to Danika Brown. Although, keeping things purely physical was supposed to prevent the outcome of those calculations from actually hurting.
So the hole his dark gaze punched through her chest must have something to do with divine nudges and destiny. Yes, that was it: the fact that her universe-mandated sex buddy didn’t want to be her sex buddy was what had Dani’s mood falling like bird shit—splat—onto the pavement. Oshun really must stop messing her around. Or perhaps this was supposed to be character building? Like fasting was for monks.
“No,” Zaf said, standing up to lean against the security desk. “I’m not—” His lips twitched, and his voice lowered to a pitch that rubbed against her legs like a purring cat. “I’m not confiscating the dick.”
“Oh. Well. Lovely,” Dani babbled, trying not to be too alarmed by the sudden upswing of her spirits. But really, this morning was becoming almost violent in its ups and downs. She felt slightly nauseous and somewhat unsteady on her feet. Which probably had something to do with relief, her clitoris, and abrupt changes to blood flow.
“I do have bad news, though,” Zaf said. Then he took a nice, slow sip of his coffee, because he was, apparently, a professional torturer as well as an ex–rugby player. He really had to stop hiding all these past lives. Friends didn’t keep friends in the dark about their wide and varied special skills.
Which was why Dani would soon be teaching him all about her bedroom expertise.
She was distracted by the rhythmic bob of his Adam’s apple for a few seconds before impatience won out. “What? What’s the bad news?”
Zaf put down his