“I’m fine. I just drank too fast.”
“Do you need me to get you some water? I’m going to go get some.”
He hopped up and walked away before I could even protest. I was smiling when Zeke came back with a small cup of water with ice in it. He sat it in front of me and handed the straw to me.
“Why are you smiling like that?”
“I guess some old habits just don’t die,” I stated. “This is how you were when we were kids. I so much as stubbed my toe, and you were there to try to carry me around.”
“It happens when you care about someone, and I guess I’m used to it,” he said as if it wasn’t a big deal. “Are you hungry? I did ask if we could have lunch together.”
“And I held off eating until you got here, so let’s go order.”
Zeke chuckled as he stood up. He was always smiling or laughing when he was around me. That was a point in his favor. A lot of the men I’d dated didn’t get my dry sense of humor or sarcasm. We walked to the counter together, getting in the line and talking as we waited for our turn to order. The more time I spent with Zeke the more comfortable I was becoming around him. We were slowly falling into old ways from when we were kids. It was unnerving and comforting at the same time.
We ordered and made our way back over to my table. I put my laptop away so that we had room to eat and so I wasn’t distracted by it. I asked Zeke what he did with his days.
“I have physical therapy and training on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday mornings to early afternoon. Sometimes I have doctor’s appointments, and I’ve had to travel to New York a few times. Tuesdays and Thursdays I do a light workout and whatever else I need to do. Things aren’t as intense right now, but as soon as I’m cleared by the doctor to up my workouts, I will.”
“And you’re not bored?”
“Not at all. I haven’t had downtime like this in a long time, so I’ve decided to take advantage of it,” he answered.
“Did your mom suggest you do that?”
He laughed. “Yeah. She told me to enjoy the time I have right now because it’ll be gone before I know it. It took a few months for me to settle in to not doing as much, but I’m there now. And I think she’s right that it’ll help when I start playing again.”
“Can I ask how you’re doing with all this? Not being able to play and having so many injury-plagued seasons.”
Zeke bit into his slice of sausage-and-apple pizza, chewing as he considered my question. I ripped a piece of pretzel from the whole and dipped it in some cream cheese. I waited for Zeke to say something. Basketball was all Zeke had ever wanted to do. From the moment I met him, basketball had been his life. I couldn’t imagine if my ability to write was taken from me. I didn’t know how I’d react to that, so I wondered how Zeke was coping.
When the silence between had stretched beyond what was the norm, I added, “You don’t have to tell me, Zeke. I wanted to see how you were doing.”
He nodded. “Thank you. It’s as you may expect. I’m hoping this time off will also give me time to heal and make another push for the pros.”
“I hope so too,” I said. “Now, subject change.”
“I don’t think you’re supposed to say that,” Zeke said with a grin.
“You know, sometimes I just don’t understand the rules,” I joked.
“Well, let’s talk about you. What do you do besides writing?”
“You mean to pay the bills?”
“I guess,” he said with a nod.
“I’m a personal assistant for one author, and that means I do whatever she needs me to do on top of my daily tasks. I’m also a social media manager for another author. I run her social media platforms; I make all the graphics for her, post, and analyze data to see where we can improve. I also deal with all the correspondence on there from fans. And I’m a freelance editor. It keeps me busy but not too busy where I can’t focus on my writing. I also need money to fund my publishing career. It’s not cheap. But I’m grateful I get to do something so closely tied to my career path.”
He asked more about what I did and if I liked it. I was more than willing to talk about it all. Zeke and I knew each other for thirteen years before we stopped being friends, so we had that history. But we had to get to know each other as adults now. We had to fill in the gaps between now and the last time we saw each other in person.
Once we were done, Zeke looked at his phone. “I have a meeting to get to, but I didn’t want to go a full day without seeing you. And I didn’t want to text to ask you to hang out with me tomorrow.”
“Are you like this with all the women you pursue?”
“I don’t pursue women, so no.”
“Oh, they do all the work and just come to you.”
He gave me a half-smile. “Not what I meant. I don’t date, so I haven’t been like this with anyone else. I have to go.”
I watched as he stood up and gathered his trash. He dropped a kiss on my lips as if it were something he’d always done and told me he’d call me tonight. I sat back in my chair. Things were moving a little fast between us. He’d admitted to having feelings for me since we were teens, but I was still coming to terms with mine for him. This was all so unexpected, but I didn’t want to push him away, either. It was all so confusing, but exciting at the same time.
The house smelled delicious when I stepped inside. Zeke helped me out of my coat and hung it up. He turned his whiskey-brown eyes back to me, which darkened as he took me in.
I had a thing for dresses, and tonight, I’d decided on a classic little black dress with sleeves that hugged all my curves. I had on tights like I always wore in the winter, and low-heeled red ankle boots. And the dress had a plunging neckline that gave an enticing glimpse of my full breasts.
“Damn, Ace,” Zeke said, stepping into my space again. “You look good enough to eat.”
“Is that a promise?” I teased.
His eyes flashed. “If you want it to be, it is.”
Zeke’s big hands settled on my hips. I tilted my head up and back a little so I could see his face. I was tall for a woman at five-ten but Zeke still towered over me, which I loved. He leaned in closer, but his lips just brushed against my cheek before he stepped back.
“I hope you’re hungry,” he said. “I got some tips from Stace again.”
“And I’m sure she’s been a fountain of information when it comes to me,” I said sarcastically.
Zeke flashed a grin at me. “Yep. She’s been the best.”
He took my hand and pulled me farther into the house. He parked me on a stool in front of the breakfast bar. He poured a black cherry White Claw into a wine glass which made it fancy.
“Look at you trying to class me up while getting me drunk,” I said.
“Right. Like you can get drunk on a drink that’s called a hard seltzer. And I just thought you’d rather drink out of a glass instead of the can.”
“I’ll ignore that comment about hard seltzer for now. One day I’ll prove to you that it can get you fucked up.”
“I welcome the challenge,” he said.
He picked up his light beer, clinking his glass with mine before turning back to the stove. I could smell that it was spaghetti, which you could never go wrong with. We made small talk as he finished up. I helped by arranging a couple of slices of garlic bread on the cooking sheet. Zeke argued, of course, but gave up when he saw that I wasn’t backing down. He knew how to pick his battles. Smart man.
About twenty minutes after I’d arrived, we were sitting down to enjoy the food that had my stomach grumbling. Zeke had used chicken instead of ground beef, which was the way I liked it, along with way more cheese than was healthy. Zeke seemed to be watching me as I took my first bite.
I moaned my pleasure. “This is so good.”
“Thanks. I’m glad you’re enjoying it and making sex noises while you do so.”
“I’m not making sex noises, Zeke,” I said, and he gave me a look as if to say he didn’t believe me. “F
ine, they were, but it’s your fault for making such delicious food.”
He was smiling, and I liked that he enjoyed my wittiness and sense of humor. I spun some more spaghetti onto my fork, taking another bite before washing it down with my drink.
Zeke and I talked about any topic that came up between us. He was so easy to talk to and a good listener. I appreciated how he wasn’t listening just to respond but actually processing what I was saying.
“So, what movie are we watching?” I asked once Zeke dropped down on the couch beside me.
“Whatever you want to watch,” he said easily.
“Then give me that remote control,” I said with my imitation of an evil laugh.
“Should I be scared?”
“Probably, but I won’t torture you too much.”
“I guess that’s all I can hope for.”
I crossed my legs under me and started scrolling through the selection of movies on his streaming service. Zeke stretched his arms across the back of the couch, letting me take my time to choose the right movie. I finally settled on an action, romantic comedy. Zeke’s arm pressed into my upper back, so I moved up, and he dropped it down so that it was behind me. He pulled me closer, into the space beside him. His fingers playing over my hip made it hard to focus on the movie. He smelled so good, and his hard chest made it clear just how much he worked out. I draped my arm on his flat stomach, shifting to get comfortable.
Maybe I was already under Zeke’s spell and my defenses were dwindling faster than I could rebuild them, but I felt safe and comforted in his arms right now. I may have been making the biggest mistake letting Zeke back into my life and into my heart, but I was tired of fighting the obvious attraction between us. I shook my head a little, clearing it. I was going to enjoy the here and now with Zeke.
“Are you cold?” Zeke asked softly.
“No. I’m perfect, and tonight is right up there with last night, so thank you.”
I felt his lips on my temple, making me swoon. He was so much sweeter than I ever would have thought. He was this big, tatted athlete, but he treated me like I was the most precious thing in the world. He was gentle with me and so damn thoughtful.
I focused on the movie, but my eyes were getting droopy less than halfway through. I fought against the sleepiness as long as I could.
I stretched, opening my eyes, and immediately knew I wasn’t at home. It took me a second to remember that I was at Zeke’s. I guess sleep won the battle and I conked out on him during the movie I chose. My full bladder had me throwing the covers off me and rushing to the bathroom. When I came out, instead of going back to the living room, I walked across the hall to Zeke’s bedroom door. I knocked softly before pushing the door open. The TV on the dresser in front of his bed was on the sports channel on low. The glow from the TV illuminated the bed so that I could see Zeke. He was lying on his back, shirtless with the covers bunched around his waist.
I stepped closer before realizing what I was doing. I was being a creeper and would have a fit if I found Zeke in my room ogling me while I slept. I turned to leave, but I tripped over one of his ginormous sneakers and went down. My knee banged hard against the hardwood floor with a loud thud. I looked back to see Zeke shift in bed before sitting up on his forearm. He searched his room for the source of the noise.
His half-lidded eyes landed on me. “Rory?” he said, his voice gruff with sleep. “Are you okay?”
He threw back the covers before I could respond and was by my side in one stride. Low-slung basketball shorts sat on his narrow waist, giving me a perfect view of the chiseled V on his stomach. I tried not to show how much seeing him shirtless affected me as he put a hand on my elbow and helped me up.
“Is something wrong? Do you need me to take you home?”
I remember when Zeke and I were four years old. He was always big for his age, and I was on the small side, but I always wanted to do what he did. Our fathers had taken us to the park, and we were running around playing with some of the older kids. I feared the monkey bars unless my dad was holding me, but the other kids didn’t need their parents and neither did Zeke. He wanted to go on the monkey bars with the others, so I agreed. I was the last one. I shored up my nerves and grabbed the first bar. I did okay until I looked down.
The ground was so far away, and I was in the middle, so I had to keep going or try to turn around and go back the way I’d come. I panicked and went too fast to get to the other bar and missed it, falling to the ground. The first person to my side was Zeke. I’d twisted my ankle and had some scrapes and bruises. He refused to leave my side, even when my dad took me to the hospital. He had always been protective of me, and it seemed now he was reverting right back to that role of protector.
“I was checking to see if you were awake. I tripped over your oversized shoes.”
He chuckled. “Sorry. I have a habit of kicking them off and leaving them wherever they land. So, you don’t want to go home?”
“Not really.”
“Do you want something comfortable to sleep in?”
“Sure. This isn’t the most comfortable dress for that.”
Zeke kicked his shoes out of the way before going to his dresser. He pulled out a faded Chicago Wolverines’ t-shirt and a pair of boxer shorts. I took them from him and went back to the bathroom across the hall.
The kitchen light was on when I walked back to the front of the house. I stuffed my folded dress and tights into my purse and turned to study Zeke. His back was to me as he grabbed something from the refrigerator. It was muscular, broad, and surprisingly free of ink.
The back of his arms up to his shoulder had tattoos, but his back was smooth with no art on it. He turned back towards me, and I sucked in a sharp breath. It wasn’t fair how ridiculously built he was. His body was all hard, defined angles and so damn sexy. I wanted to trace every line with my fingers or maybe with my tongue. Shit. I needed to get a grip. When I brought my eyes back up to Zeke’s, his held amusement, like he knew exactly where my mind had gone.
“If you need another blanket, I can get you one,” he offered, instead of calling me out on my ogling.
“I’m good, Zeke. You can go back to bed.”
He finished off the bottle of water he’d pulled out of the fridge and tossed the empty bottle into the recycling bin. As he walked toward me, I could make out his tattoos even better. Once he was nearer, I grabbed his wrist so that I could study the tattoo on his forearm. When I looked up, Zeke was watching me.
“Can you tell me about this one?” I asked.
“I got it after we graduated, as a present from my dad. I wanted to get this one first, but I chickened out. We weren’t in school anymore, so I didn’t have to worry about you seeing it.”
“So, this really is because of me?”
Zeke nodded. I’d seen this tattoo on his forearm when I watched him play or had seen his pictures online, but I didn’t want to be vain and assume it was because of me. I traced the ace of spades playing card. The card was in a bloom of my favorite flowers, roses, and my initials—RNB. He hardly ever called me Mallory when we were growing up, so the “R” stood for “Rory.” It was an intricate tattoo, and the detail was amazing. It also didn’t look like a ten-year-old tattoo. Some of the ones on his body were faded, but this one looked as if he’d just gotten it within the last year.
“I have it touched up when it starts fading. I did last year,” he explained before I could even ask.
“I can’t believe you have this,” I whispered.
“I told you I never got over you, Ace. No matter if we were talking or not, you were a big part of my life at one time.”
“Did you think about me when you decided to move back?”
He wrapped his arms around me, and my hands rested on his warm, hard chest. “I did, and I hoped that I wouldn’t run into you, while also hoping that I did. When I saw you at the Busy Bean that day, it was the best and worst thing to happen to me. Seeing that you still hated me put a damper on my d
ay, but I was also happy to see you.”
I chuckled. “You were all messed up over me.”
“I was. I mean, I am. You’ll always be the one for me, Ace. No other woman could ever compare to you.”
He certainly knew the right things to say. I slid my hands up to encircle his neck and hugged him. Zeke hugged me back, nuzzling my neck and brushing his lips softly over the skin there. I shivered, and my core clenched. My nipples also pebbled under the shirt he’d given me. I knew he felt the hard buds poking into his chest, but there was nothing I could do about that. I stepped out of his embrace.
“Night, Ace.”
“Night, Zeke.”
19
Zeke
I closed my bedroom door behind me, climbing back into bed even though I wished Mallory were in here with me. I laid on my back. She was in the living room, steps away from me, and I was in this damn bed. But I was willing to take this at her pace. Mallory controlled this, and I didn’t want to do anything to mess this up. I closed my eyes trying to go back to sleep, turning onto my side.
I heard the door of my room open. I looked back to see Mallory slipping inside through a crack wide enough for her. She looked amazing wearing my shirt and boxers. When I’d helped her out of her coat to find she was wearing that black dress that hugged all her curves, I'd wanted to pull her into my arms and carry her to my room.
I flipped onto my back as she closed the door softly behind her and carefully made her way across the room. I could guess she was trying hard not to trip over my shoes again. Mallory sat on the edge of my bed. I sat up and waited for her to say something, but she didn’t. I pulled her closer. She surprised me by straddling my lap. I was already hard for her as soon as her ass and core rested over my cock.
“Rory?”
“Zeke,” she said in the same tone I’d used.
Doubletalk (The Busy Bean) Page 14