coffee. “Didn’t want to tell you over the phone yesterday, in case you thought I was avoiding you again. But I need a rain check on tonight.” The words were pushed out on a wave of disappointment, as if whatever had caused him to request a delay of their frantic bonking was so unwelcome, he’d barely prevented himself from kicking that thing into the sun. Which went some way toward soothing Dani’s pang of unhappiness.
Although she didn’t know what she could possibly be unhappy about. She’d survived on vibrator-given orgasms this long, and it wasn’t as if she’d been looking forward to spending the evening with Zaf. That would be silly. Especially when she could just call him.
With that fact in mind, she asked calmly, “Everything okay?”
“Yeah.” A tentative smile teased his mouth. “Things are pretty great, actually. Aside from us not—well. Yeah. Radio Trent want to interview me.”
“What?” Dani felt as if a bulb had been lit inside her and now she was glowing gentle pleasure right through her skin. “That’s wonderful, right? That’s huge!”
“Yep.” Zaf nodded, looking away as if he was embarrassed. His smile was cautious, hopeful, sweet. Something about it punched her in the heart, which was highly uncomfortable and made her ribs ache.
“They want to talk about Tackle It,” Zaf was saying, “and about us, obviously. I really can’t . . .” He paused, his tongue gliding over his tempting lower lip before he reached across the desk and caught her hand. It occurred to her that, for the first time since they’d met, Zaf was completely ignoring his security duties. Usually, when they spoke, his gaze flicked everywhere and he burst out with scowls and orders at random, reminding people to flash their ID. But right now? His eyes were pinned to Dani as his fingers laced through hers, and all that dark, velvet focus sent a thrill racing through her blood, and she felt singularly . . . wanted. Really, really wanted. Her breath rushed out like the tide, and she couldn’t bring it back again.
“Thank you,” Zaf finished softly. “For all of this. It’s ridiculous, I know it is, but it’s doing so much.”
He was so disgustingly sincere. Dani must be allergic, since every time he thanked her with those big, puppy dog eyes, it made her feel hot and flushed and jittery inside. “Never mind all that,” she said briskly. “Do you need me to come?”
Zaf rolled his lips inward. “They asked if you would, obviously. But I told them you’re busy, so . . .”
She was busy, horribly busy preparing for the symposium—last night she’d woken from a fever dream in which Inez Holly had asked her a question about an obscure Afro-Swedish theory on intersectionality in late nineteenth-century literature, and Dani hadn’t been able to respond. She should be glad that Zaf didn’t need her company. And yet, she found herself asking lightly, as if it were a joke: “What, you don’t want me there? I’m wounded.”
He laughed a little, because, of course, she wasn’t serious. Of course she wasn’t. “You’re already doing a lot for me, Dan. I’m not about to start dragging you to interviews.” His voice lowered as he leaned in. “Or asking you to lie any more than we already are.”
All entirely noble points, but none of that was a no. And Zaf was the kind of man who knew how to say no when he wanted to.
Dani knew she should let this go. She was mere weeks away from the symposium and the accompanying terrifying panel discussion with Inez fucking Holly, for heaven’s sake! She didn’t have time to go gallivanting off on last-minute radio interviews with her fake boyfriend, even if it was for the good of the children and so on and so forth, and even if that fake boyfriend was her very real future fuck buddy. So, he was right. She shouldn’t come.
Except . . . Zaf clearly didn’t like being the center of attention. And when he was nervous, he became particularly, adorably intimidating, only no one else seemed to notice the adorable part. And, for fuck’s sake, he had anxiety. So, no, Dani wasn’t going to let him do this alone. That thought was so urgent, so vehement and intense, that it almost alarmed her—but this caring came from friendship, and friendship was just fine. Friendship was perfectly safe. It might hurt sometimes, but it had never crushed her heart and ruined her from the inside out.