by Petrova, Em
Zane pushed into the store and snarled at the chime that echoed through the open room. He made his way past rows of wooden backlog cases and metal shelves full of toys and the latest comic editions. He slid onto an empty stool, behind the glass counter, and waited, jaw clenched.
Archer was arguing with a brunette about whether or not the DC Comics reboot was a bad thing for the franchise. The words sounded like an argument, anyway. Their smiles said it was anything but. She looked familiar. One of the five billion people Zane had met in the last day or so. Victoria, maybe?
“Your friend needs you more than I do.” She gave Zane a smile. “His scowl will drive off customers.”
“I’m fine.”
“Right.” She pushed a dress wrapped in a dry-cleaning bag toward Archer. “I’ll be back later.”
As she left, Zane leaned against a shelf. “She’s cute.”
Archer hung the dress—it looked like a Renaissance recreation made of velvet—on a nearby rack. “She’s not Riley.”
Fuck. There was the conversation opener he needed. “That’s the point.”
Archer turned, using the counter to mirror Zane’s posture. “I take it you didn’t get a happy reunion.”
“Did you possibly forget to mention something?”
“I wouldn’t say I forgot. As far as I know, she hasn’t told anyone else. What makes you special? Stupid question, I know.”
Zane rubbed his face. “What in the entire history of anything that has ever happened between the two of you made you think proposing was a good idea?”
“You vanished, and things between Riley and me were going better than before. I know she’s got this vision of happily ever after. I figured maybe a ring was what was missing from the equation.”
“Except the one thing that hasn’t changed is she keeps dumping you.”
“Yeah—well—I get it now, but you’re not pissed because of that.” Archer turned away at the sound of a chime, focusing his attention on the two teenagers who came in.
“Apparently more changed than I thought.”
“After all the time the two of you spent verbally jerking each other off, I’d figure things would be perfect between you.” Sarcasm hung heavy in Archer’s voice. “Or did one of you think that wouldn’t change anything?”
“She told you about that?” So much for keeping it between them. The revelation stung more than Zane wanted to admit. What he and Riley had done was no-strings stress relief, but he hadn’t expected her to think so little of it—and his friendship with Archer—that she’d risk throwing this wedge between them.
“Jen might have accidentally stumbled on an e-mail or two, when she was looking for something on Riley’s laptop.”
“You let your sister go through Riley’s email?” Zane kept his disgusted tone low. Even if half their friends already knew, no reason to let the teenagers in the back of the store in on it, too. “And you wonder why the two of you never work out.”
“You know what’s made my life a whole lot happier?” Archer adjusted his position when the two teens disappeared behind one of the shelves. “Realizing Riley’s all talk. She may be entertaining fun to hang out with, but she doesn’t know what she wants out of life or the people around her, except that she wants it all to conform to her fantasy utopia.”
Anger rushed through Zane. “Really? You’re blaming her for your inability to move on?”
“I’ve moved on.” Archer tensed when the teenagers headed back toward the exit, one of them carrying a box with a bikini-clad figurine in it. “It’s funny how, for someone who doesn’t take sides, you always jump to her defense.”
“Whatever.” Zane pushed off the stool. A tiny part of him hoped the boys would bolt with the toy. Give him a justified confrontation. He couldn’t ignore his disappointment when they set it on a shelf near the front door, before leaving. “I’m done,” he said.
The two guys paused halfway out and turned to watch the five-feet-six—all curves—strawberry-blonde woman walk in. If she noticed, Jen, didn’t react.
Zane shoved his fists into his pockets. Could he vanish before she saw him? The green eyes and seductive smile turned in his direction said no.
Jen stopped in front of him. “I was hoping I’d run into you. You up to anything interesting?” She traced a finger along the edge of her plunging neckline, drawing his gaze.
Archer’s groan filled the room. “Do you have to do that in here?”
“Actually, I’m leaving.” Zane grabbed the opportunity to put several more feet and a glass display case between Jen and himself. “Nothing personal, but I’m not looking for a relationship.”
Jen’s smile never faded. She leaned on the counter and rested her chin in her hands, pressing her tits together. “I never said anything about a relationship.”
“Really?” He couldn’t keep the disbelief from his voice. He might be a little dense sometimes. Lost in his own world. But there was no way he’d misinterpreted the signals Jen had doused him with since he got back.
“If you’d rather keep things physical, I’m fine with that.”
As her meaning dawned on him, his imagination swept in from nowhere, asking why Riley couldn’t have made a similar offer. He pushed it aside.
Archer interrupted before Zane could respond. “I’m not going to listen to you talk about fucking my best friend.”
Jen straightened up with a sigh. “Why not? You did it.”
Zane cringed at the reminder of Riley.
Archer shook his head. “I love Riley. It’s different.”
“Present tense?” Jen asked.
So Zane hadn’t heard him wrong.
“Loved. I said loved.” Archer’s back went rigid, and his hands clenched at his sides. “Besides, this isn’t about me.”
The more the two argued, the more Zane’s aggravation grew. Worse, he felt justified saying Riley was too good for Archer, and horrible for screwing up how he’d phrased it to her. He headed toward the back stairs that lead up to his apartment, relieved when Archer and Jen didn’t notice him leaving.
Chapter Four
Riley sank back in her chair. She’d been staying in her sister’s condo for months, but it still didn’t feel like home. It didn’t help that most of the furniture was Kenzie’s, and a lot of it was more for show than comfort. She squirmed on the wooden seat. Maybe it was time to get some better cushions for the Ethan Allen dining set.
She was trying to get some sketching done. It usually helped her relax, but now she couldn’t focus. Every few seconds, she glanced at her phone. Zane had texted her a few times since their awkward reunion two nights ago. Generic how are you, and job interview, wish me luck stuff. Her replies had been just as brief, polite, and without substance. She wasn’t sure what to say. He’d only been back a few days, and they’d destroyed a lifetime of friendship. Or he was right about her being melodramatic.
She took a deep breath, to steady her shaking hand, She sent him a series of messages.
I’m sorry.
About everything bad I said the other night.
Overreacting, all of it.
She set the phone back on the table and stared at it, willing it to give her good news. Still, she was startled when it vibrated against the polished oak a few seconds later, sending a loud hum through the condo.
Don’t be sorry. I was a jackass. Forgive me?
A whisper of relief trickled through her. Always :-)
I’m coming over.
She grinned. She wasn’t sure how these few words felt more meaningful than every other note they’d passed in the last few days, but she wouldn’t argue. She’d tease him a little, though. She replied, You’re assuming a lot.
Maybe. Give me fifteen minutes.
Already feeling infinitely better, she turned her attention back to her sketching. With the looming cloud of frustration gone, she sank into the lines and figures as they met and blended and became recognizable shapes.
When a knock rattled through the a
partment, she jumped. She laughed at the empty room and pushed her sketchbook aside. She was on her feet in an instant, to yank open the front door.
Zane stood on the other side, raking his fingers over his short black hair. He gave her a hopeful smile. “So I can bask in your presence again?”
Once upon a time, Zane’s combination of self-effacing jokes and pretending to put her on a pedestal made her uneasy. She learned it was just words, though. His way keeping things light.
“I suppose.” She intertwined her fingers with his and tugged him toward the kitchen table. A warm tingle spread through her at the contact, and she let the touch linger longer than needed.
He dropped her hand the moment she loosened her grip. She bit back a frown. He’d never been as physical as her, but he’d also never pulled away from her before.
No big deal. They needed to find their comfort zone again. “Are you free for a few hours? You can stay and help me plot and just hang out.”
“Sounds fantastic.”
“Good, you can cheer me up.” She flopped into her chair, relieved when he took the seat next to her instead of across the table. She winked.
“Are you okay? What happened?”
Apparently, she needed to tease harder. True, a random person would stare at her blankly for most of her half-formed statements. Things were different with Zane. Or at least, before he left, he would have gotten her. “I'm not seeing eye to eye with my best friend.”
“We’ll get there.” A faint hesitation cut through his words.
Instead of overanalyzing the situation, she pushed her sketchpad toward him. “What do you think?”
He turned the pages. “I’d forgotten how amazing you are at this. I mean, I’ve always known you were good, but your talent still floors me.”
Heat flooded her cheeks, and she ducked her head, even though he wasn’t watching her. “It’s only a rough outline.”
“That makes it more amazing. Is this… This isn’t me, is it?”
She followed his finger. “Technically, yes. I’m using photos of you to create him.”
“You’re sure?”
Had she done something wrong? Had the compliments been lip-service? “Why?”
“He’s blond.”
She rolled her eyes and tugged the sketchbook away. “It’s not supposed to literally be you. You’re just a point of reference.”
He tilted his head, still studying the image, though it wasn’t in front of him anymore. “You made him all wiry. Like skinny but muscular. How is that even possible?”
It was an exaggeration, based on the art style, but the form was one thing she knew she had right. She watched Zane, not successfully hiding her amusement.
He finally met her gaze. He finally looked up. “What?”
She made a show of raking her gaze over his defined chest and sturdy arms. His martial-arts training kept him in shape before he left, but his time in the Air Force had honed his form more. Too bad asking for nude shots—strictly for reference purposes, of course—wouldn’t be appropriate. “You tell me. How do you pull it off?”
“Is this the one you’re going to sell? Or is this for your portfolio, to get that teaching job? Both?”
Her amusement wavered, uncertainty sinking back in. Times like this, she wished she’d never mentioned she wanted to do something professional with her art. It was a nice fantasy, but he’d grabbed the idea and clung to it, reminding her whenever he could that she needed to do it. It was the big reason he’d agreed to model for her. She suspected his reminders would become more frequent now he was back.
“I still have so much research to do.”
He stared back, skepticism painting his expression. “Have you started?”
“I’ve poked around a little. I have a list of names to look into.” She didn’t want to have this conversation.
“We should go out.” His too-cheerful announcement came from nowhere.
It was a great idea. So why was she hesitating to agree? “So we can stumble on more awkward topics we need to avoid?” He probably didn’t realize how uncomfortable she was talking about her art, but it felt like one subject after another caused them to falter.
“So we can get past them.”
“I guess I can’t expect everything to be exactly the same.”
“Does that mean yes?”
“Of course.” She pushed back from the table. “Give me ten minutes, to wash this charcoal off and change into something less graphite covered.”
“I’ll be here.”
Disappointment trickled through her, and she squashed it. Hoping he’d offer to help was the last thing she needed to do. Still, she couldn’t shake the memory of his hand resting at the small of her back. The hammer of his heart against her palm. Maybe…
No. Bad. She wasn’t going to consider what might have happened if he kissed her. If they’d stumbled back to his truck together. If he’d lifted her onto the tailgate and pushed between her legs. Or rather, she wouldn’t consider it too much.
She tried to be quick about getting ready, hating to make anyone wait. Once the pencil residue was gone, she grabbed a fitted long-sleeved tee from her closet. She was pulling on her jeans when her cell phone rang in the other room. “Will you get that?” she called through the closed door.
“Yup.”
She finished dressing, ran a brush through her hair, and yanked open her bedroom door. She came up short, breath caught in her throat when she almost ran into Zane.
He was less than six inches away. She needed to put some distance between them, but she couldn’t get her feet to move.
He was close enough she felt his heat and smelled the crisp musk she always associated with him. She couldn’t pull her gaze from his. What had they been doing before? She reached out and ran her fingers over the short black hair on top of his head. “I miss this being long.”
He leaned into the touch, resting his hand on her hip. “It’ll grow back.”
A digitally muffled voice cut between them. “Hello?”
He held up her phone. “It’s Kenzie.”
Right. Reality. She took the phone from him, and put enough space between them to clear her thoughts. Sort of. “Thanks,” she said again. “Hey, Sis.”
Zane leaned against the far wall in the hallway, something unreadable in his gaze. Heat spread through her at his attention.
“Am I interrupting something? I assume you two are spending every waking moment together.” Kenzie’s question was lighthearted.
Riley scowled at the receiver. “He’s been here for less than half an hour. We’ve spent a total of maybe half a day together since he got back.”
Zane’s mouth twitched with the threat of smile. She spun away, to hide that the single gesture had eased her sour expression.
“As long as he hasn’t moved in.” Kenzie laughed.
Riley sighed, making sure it was loud enough to echo through the receiver. Maybe now wasn’t the best time to mention she’d given him a spare key. “You’re not as funny as you think you are. What’s up?”
“Grump. Have dinner with us next weekend. Both of you.”
Riley wanted to keep up her stern demeanor, but she liked spending time with Kenzie and Scott. “All right. I’ll be there, and I’ll ask him.”
“Fantastic. I’ll let you two get back to whatever, and I’ll e-mail you details.”
They exchanged goodbyes, and Riley tucked the phone into her jeans’ pocket. “Where to?” she asked Zane.
“Where do you think? I mean, if it’s still there.”
There was one place they always went. It was half-bar, half-arcade, and one of their favorite spots in the valley. “It definitely is.”
“Epic.” He didn’t pull away when she intertwined her fingers with his and tugged him outside and toward the parking lot.
“I’m glad you knew what I was talking about. I had this flash of panic thinking everything I knew had changed, and the entire world had flipped upside-down.” His tone was
playful as he gestured wildly.
“Say I was a pod person. Would you really miss much about me?”
Only after they were both inside the truck—which smelled of coffee and Zane—did he say, “I’m not answering that.”
“You brought it up.”
He navigated traffic smoothly. “I know. I shouldn’t have. Whenever I say stuff like that, it gets me in trouble. No one actually wants to know what you think of them, unless it’s really good. They only think they do.”
That made it sound like his opinion of her wasn’t good. Now she had to know. Maybe he wasn’t teasing after all? “I’m not them. If you don’t tell me, I’ll… um…” She’d what?
He glanced at her, one eyebrow raised, and then turned his attention back to the road. “Yes?”
Crap. She had no idea how to threaten him and still keep it light-hearted. “I’ll pout?”
The truck stopped for a red light, and he shifted in his seat. He traced a finger over her protruding lower lip. “I don’t know if that’s a threat or a promise.”
The contact sent a pleasant chill through her, and she parted her lips with a tiny gasp.
His gaze lingered on her face before he looked away. “That look though—that’s worth spilling a lot of secrets for.”
Geez. What would it take for him to do that again? Traces of his touch lingered, and his husky comment danced in her skull. Taunting her. Fire raced through her cheeks, and she pressed her forehead against the cool glass. The heat from the vents rushed over her skin, adding to her warm embarrassment. It was just a physical reaction. No reason to melt over it. So why did she want him to pull over and run that finger, or all of them, over more of her?
“I would miss everything about you.” His soft comment startled her. “The way you reserve yourself and your judgment until you get to know someone. That not a lot of people know the real you and that you like to have a lot of fun.”
His compliments didn’t help redirect her thoughts. Instead, they enhanced the desire tingling on her lips. She turned back to him, studying his clenched jaw. The words rolled through her head, simple but surprisingly observant. “Not everyone thinks those are quality traits.”