“How do you feel about it?”
He shrugged. “I manage to find a way to get in trouble in any country...and the problem—well, for me, not Ethan—was that I didn’t have a party buddy. Ethan’s clean and sober now.”
“So I heard.”
“It’s true. And he’s been one-hundred percent faithful to his new girlfriend. I swear. He’s not the Ethan you once knew.”
Jennifer paused to consider that little tidbit. If Ethan, of all the people she knew, could change...then maybe even Zane had it in himself.
It gave her a little hope.
Chapter Seven
BY THE TIME they’d finished dinner, Zane’s stomach ached from laughing so hard. Once they’d moved past the bullshit, they’d enjoyed each other’s company, just like they always used to. Jennifer was truly one of the most beautiful souls he’d ever known, so it always made him wonder why the hell they would eventually wind up fighting like cats and dogs.
It was probably because he loved and cared for her more than anyone else—more than anything else. Even when he was grazing the bottom like he often did, he’d look for light wherever he could, and he always wound up seeing her in his mind. She was his light, his way out of the darkness that so often threatened to consume him.
When they walked out into the cool evening, Zane said, “Let’s go get some ice cream.”
“After Asian? You’re crazy.”
“No...we used to eat a lot of ice cream together. Remember the weekend of the banana split?”
Jennifer pursed her lips together to stifle a giggle. Yeah...she remembered. It was the last good weekend they’d spent together when Zane was still attending college. “Yeah...but I don’t think any actual ice cream was involved.”
Zane chuckled again and shrugged. “Picky. It was meant to be evocative of ice cream.”
“Oh, evocative. Yeah...it was something like that.”
Was she blushing? That was always possible, but it was hard to tell under the parking lot lights as they walked toward where he assumed her car was waiting for her. That had been a wild weekend in his dorm room, a night when Ethan was out partying or banging some random chick, but he’d told Zane the room was his. Jennifer had been pretty shy but willing to try, and—because of the ice cream bar in the cafeteria where they always tried to top each other’s sundae every dinner—he’d been inspired to invite her over for banana splits. Only, when she got to his room, she found on his desk bananas, chocolate syrup, a can of whipped cream, maraschino cherries, and crushed pineapple...but no ice cream.
He’d loved licking the chocolate syrup off her nipples...and he took her to Dairy Queen for real ice cream the next day.
It was a memory he hoped he’d never forget. If he made it to the age of ninety-nine, he wanted to be sitting in the old folks’ home telling his nurse all about it.
“It was definitely something like that. As I recall, it evoked a lot of excitement from you.”
Jennifer started laughing. “Yeah...among other things.” As they continued walking through the parking lot, Zane stifled the urge to put his arm around her waist. “It was really sticky.”
“Hey, now. You weren’t sticky when we were all done.” His tongue had made sure of that.
She giggled then but kept her eyes facing forward. Jesus, you’d think they’d never dated before. What was with the bashful act?
She slowed, pausing in front of a silver sedan—not a sports car, but a practical ride. Not much fun. But he knew Jennifer had always liked to play it safe—part of the reason for some—but not all—of their arguments. “Zane, I had a great time tonight.” Yeah, if she felt like he did, she remembered how they’d been good together.
“What...no ice cream?”
He saw it in the way she moved to her car—kind of a hesitation, an unsureness. “I have to work tomorrow.”
“The night’s still young.”
She walked over to the driver door and then looked up at him. He’d continued following her but didn’t get too close. As much as he’d enjoyed dinner—and he thought she had too—there was something stopping her, something making her keep her distance, and he wasn’t going to push it too much. Much as he didn’t want to think about it, he was sure his past behavior might have a little to do with it. “Yeah, but I’m—actually we’re not as young as we used to be.”
“Damn, Jen, you make it sound like we’re pushing sixty.”
“Some days I feel like it.”
He couldn’t help his brows furrowing. Something wasn’t adding up here. Even when they’d been arguing, the sexual attraction had been undeniable. Okay, so he wasn’t quite there yet either, but he wasn’t ready to call it a night...not by a long shot. He felt like they’d just barely started. “What’s going on with you?”
She blinked, acting like she was going to start talking—start saying something real—but then she backed out at the last second. “I’m just tired.”
Letting the breath out of his lungs, Zane considered for a moment whether he should push it a little, playfully or not, or just let her go.
The problem was he didn’t want to let her go—not now or ever. It was time to stop running from her. In those few moments, he realized that he was willing to endure all the fighting, all the arguing, every single fucking disagreement if he could just have her in his life for good. He was even willing to change himself to get there. He wasn’t going to just let her go anymore.
But he didn’t trust himself to say it. Instead, he took another step toward her. She’d just pointed her key fob at the door and unlocked it, but she paused and looked up at him then. She was almost like a deer in headlights but not quite as skittish. He reached out and touched her cheek, moving his hand until he cupped it, and the way she blinked—almost in slow motion—told him more than her words had.
She felt it, too.
It was still there and it wasn’t just a pile of dying embers—it was a raging inferno beneath the surface. At least that was what he suspected, but he’d only know based on the combustion that would happen when they kissed.
He moved his face toward hers, gauging her response. Her eyelids fluttered and her lips parted just a sliver, but that was enough for Zane to realize she wanted him—wanted him to kiss her, if nothing else.
He didn’t need a flashing green light.
He touched his lips to her warm ones, softly at first, gauging if the light was indeed green or maybe just yellow, and, when she didn’t push him away or resist, he slid his tongue along her lower lip and breathed in through his nose. God, the woman was intoxicating, and her mouth felt like home. She tasted sweet and pure, and the sensation of being in her orbit once more made his blood swirl in his veins.
Zane felt like he was being transported to another time and place...almost like it was years earlier, when he and Jennifer were first dating, exploring each other’s minds, then mouths, then bodies. She’d been a little shy back then, but she’d trusted him to be gentle and sweet—and he had been. Over the years, he’d lost that quality, because most of the groupies who threw themselves at him just wanted to be with him, and they’d do anything—literally anything—for that chance. They’d debase themselves, give up any shred of dignity, do whatever he asked, however he asked. And all those women just kind of lumped together in his mind—they all looked the same, acted the same, felt the same.
Jennifer was different.
He hadn’t told her, would probably never say, but that girl had been his first love. If he was being honest with himself, though, he’d admit that she had been his only love and would probably always be. Zane didn’t have much love left for the world, but a little piece of Jennifer still lived in his heart.
It was a goddamned miracle.
That just spoke to her power in his life. That was why he needed her.
The kiss ended, pulling Zane back to the here and now—the warm parking lot scented with the smells of Asian food and car fumes, and he was years older, full of scars but without having le
arned a damn thing about how to be an adult.
As he came back to the present, he realized Jennifer’s hands were on his chest. She wasn’t pushing against him, but she wasn’t pulling him close, either. What did that mean exactly? He opened his eyes and saw that hers were still closed. That was good, right? He waited until she lifted her lids and then he said, “So...ice cream?”
She laughed then. “I can’t, Zane. Seriously...I have work tomorrow. I need to be fresh.”
“We’re not going to Vegas for it. Half an hour...tops.”
She shook her head. “I can’t.”
Fuck. That hurt. So this was it. This was how it ended. But before he could recover and say something, she asked, “How about this weekend—Saturday night?”
Oh, there it was. His heart started beating again. By the time he registered that she wasn’t completely blowing him off, maybe really was worried about getting to bed at a decent hour, he said, “Okay, I believe you about feeling sixty now. In bed by nine nowadays?”
She grinned. “Almost like clockwork.”
“That’s why you need me back in your life, Jen...to make you feel young.” If being together worked for him, it had to work for her. He had to believe that.
Chapter Eight
OH, MAN. JENNIFER had been doing so well resisting her ex-boyfriend’s charms—until the kiss. That damned kiss brought back way too much.
Well, his reminder about the banana split weekend didn’t hurt, either.
And feeling lighthearted and happy had made her drop her guard, so she’d agreed to a second date. Internally, she was chiding herself afterward, but she’d known it would happen anyway. She’d never been able to resist Zane, not since the first time he’d asked her out.
She would never forget that moment he’d approached to ask her out the first time. He’d been so sweet, so gentlemanly (something completely out of the ordinary for Zane, something she hadn’t known at the time), and he’d asked Valerie’s permission first. Silly, yes, but endearing, a part of Zane kept hidden from the world, because he believed it made him appear vulnerable.
Could tonight’s kiss be the start of something new? Would it be too much to pray that he’d changed?
And should she ask?
For the moment, while things were light between them, she decided not to say anything, but their second date—the one where they’d go for ice cream—she’d have to lay down the law, let him know she was not the Jennifer of the past. She was not going to put up with his old bullshit. She was beyond that. She had a child, for heaven’s sake, and she had more to live for nowadays.
But she’d offered up Saturday night...and her heart felt light and expectant, even while her mind was worried that she’d made a grave mistake.
Fortunately, Kara agreed to watch Zoe again, saying that she “had no life.” On Saturday afternoon, Zane called. “So...let’s do dinner too. Or a movie. Not just ice cream.”
Kara had already told her she would be available for as long as she needed, so that wasn’t a problem. “So which will it be—dinner or a movie?”
“How about dinner? I can’t talk to you during a movie.”
“Well, you could...but other viewers might get a little irritated.”
Zane laughed. “Depends on what I was talking about.”
“Maybe we should do the movie. It’s harder to fight if we’re not talking.”
She heard Zane laugh again before he said, “You still living in the same apartment? Want me to come by around seven?”
Oh, hell, no. She wasn’t ready to introduce him to his daughter. “Um...where do you want to go? I’ll meet you.”
The line was silent for several seconds. “You afraid I won’t take you home if things go south?”
“I never said that.”
She could tell he was trying to hide the emotion, but he couldn’t do a good job keeping the disappointment out of his voice. “Didn’t have to. How about Mexican food this time? That go better with ice cream?”
* * *
Jesus. Jen seemed cagier than she’d ever been in the past. Zane tried to remember if their last breakup had been particularly worse or more traumatic than any other before, but he couldn’t see how. Jennifer had been angry with him about his lifestyle; they’d argued and fought; they’d decided to remain friends.
The usual.
But, damn...he remembered the sex being better than ever. What the hell was up with that?
He tried not to let it hurt—and, in most ways, it didn’t—but if she was going to give him one last chance, he wanted her in all the way, not just half assed.
So they met at the Mexican restaurant, and he hoped he could at least talk her into letting him drive them to the ice cream shop. It all just felt a little weird—like they were strangers now or something. But he was going to take what he could get. If all Jen could give him was a little time...he was going to take it. He wasn’t going to be a whiny bitch, wondering when she would feel like she could trust him again.
Because truth was he could understand why she was keeping her distance. Yeah, his dumb ass brain tried to block it all out, wanted to believe he was a loveable, even if shitty, boyfriend, but he knew the facts...and, when he examined them closely, he knew Jen had every right to be cautious.
He would take whatever she was willing to give, even if that meant they were taking it slow...because the more he thought about it, the more he realized that, more than ever, he wanted to become a permanent fixture in her life—and, if he was going to be around for good, an extra week or so to trust Zane would be acceptable in the grand scheme of things.
The nerves, though...he was feeling pretty anxious, more than usual, and he felt the call of the booze and the pills—but no way could he give in. No fucking way. He had a lot of demons he had to fight, and the booze and pills were no longer ways to cope with the demons...they were the demons. He had to move past them...or else he needed to just give in—and give up.
So he took a deep breath and splashed cool water on his face before moving to the closet to figure out what to wear. He thought she might appreciate it some if he wore a button-down shirt with jeans, something a little dressier than his usual fare.
He grabbed a light blue one, something he thought looked almost like something a guy in business would wear (which he knew Jen might be more used to nowadays), but he stood in the walk-in closet trying to decide if he should wear jeans or something else...and then he decided he probably shouldn’t even wear a button-down shirt to his favorite Mexican restaurant. He was having a hell of a time concentrating and making a decision...
Probably because he knew in the back of his mind that he was slipping into his old ways.
He tried to push the thought out again when he felt hands slither around his waist. He was almost startled, especially because he hadn’t heard her walking on the carpet with her tiny little feet.
And he thought he’d already kicked her ass out.
“Zane? Want another hummer?”
He couldn’t remember her name, not that it mattered, and he was tempted to call her whore, but he was already feeling shitty and low again. Calling her names so she felt bad about herself would only reverberate through him and bring him lower too. Better to just stick with the facts. “I gotta go—and you should already be gone.”
“Just a quick one,” she said, kissing his back and raking her nails down his torso until she grazed the top of his underwear.
And his damn cock was considering responding. “No, I have to go. Find your clothes and get the hell out of here.”
She was insistent, moving around to his front and dropping to her knees, tugging on his underwear with her teeth. “I’ll make it fast,” she said, and feeling her breath on the sensitive skin over his waistband gave away that his cock was ready for some action, even if his brain wasn’t.
Fucking A. He had no willpower, especially thanks to the Special K he’d consumed earlier. Guess that counted as a mind-altering substance...
As the blonde’s mouth wrapped around his thickening shaft, he tried to block it all out, how he’d already started sauntering back down that primrose path. He knew—knew from experience—that all it took was one...one pill, one shot, one blowjob for him to fall off the wagon. He’d just told a counselor that at rehab a few weeks ago: “I know that. Don’t you think I fucking know that?”
Knowing and abstaining were two entirely disconnected things. And, even though he knew, he was thinking “Just this once” as he tried to block the date with Jen later out of his mind, and it barely even registered that the girl moaning around his cock looked an awful lot like the woman he considered the love of his life, the one he’d be meeting for dinner in a few short hours.
Chapter Nine
“OH, ZANE, THIS place is amazing. Why haven’t I ever heard of it before?”
Zane smiled at Jennifer, and she loved how that smile lit up his eyes. In this light, she could almost see him as nineteen again, when they were just stupid kids too young to fall in love and yet too idealistic not to be able to resist. This, yes, this was the boy—the man—she’d fallen in love with. Charming, sweet, happy.
She knew some about his dark childhood, what little he’d been able to talk about, but she also knew that he’d managed to get over it, unlike his friend and then roommate (now bandmate) Ethan. Ethan had once worn his demons like a cloak—anyone who spent any time in the guy’s aura could see that he was a complete and utter train wreck...but he had charisma out the wazoo and people loved him in spite of it.
Including her best friend Valerie.
But Jen couldn’t understand why everyone put up with so much shit from Ethan, even with his powers of charm. A cheating asshole, no matter how charismatic and irresistible, was still a cheating asshole.
Zane, though...if they could just get past the constant bickering, he would be the ideal mate.
No, she was lying to herself. There was more to it than that. The bickering often stemmed from his other issues, problems she always tried to block out when she once again wanted to make it work.
Locked and Loaded (Bullet, #6) Page 5