Oh, fuck. They’d barely been together five minutes. She was going to start this shit already? He got ready to fire right back and then realized that he didn’t have to feed it. Maybe she’d had a shitty week and she was just venting. Maybe this was what she needed. So he took a deep breath and tamped down the internal flames before responding. “Hey…I wasn’t trying to point a finger, okay. I just really wanted to know what’s going on with you—and I don’t like hearing that maybe you’re not happy…‘cause out of everyone I know, you deserve some happiness. I didn’t mean to make you feel bad.”
He saw her facial features soften then, and she let out an almost inaudible sigh as she let go of the tension in her body. “Oh, geez. I’m sorry, Zane. I, uh—”
“No worries, Jen.” Zane saw the waiter making his way over to the table. “But I hope you know what you want, ‘cause it’s just about time to order.”
* * *
Jennifer couldn’t even remember what she’d asked the waiter to write on his pad, but that was because she was trying to recover from what was essentially a massive hull breach. She hadn’t expected it. She’d always loved Zane to the depths of her soul and part of her resented the shit out of him for not getting his act together. Because he never would pick up the pieces of his life, they could never be together. Ever. And so she’d been thinking that, even though his arms around her had felt like heaven.
But Satan always came in an angel’s disguise.
So when he’d asked her about her job, it had thrown her for a loop. She’d almost started spurting about how much she hated it. When she’d first started at Edwards, even though she’d been a “lowly clerk,” she’d enjoyed the hell out of it. It was challenging and fun. She had to process reports and respond to online correspondence, so there was always a little bit of the familiar but a lot of new things thrown at her every day. It hadn’t been until Constance had started there two years ago that things had started to change.
At first, she’d thought she and Constance would be friends. The woman had started a year after Jennifer did, and they got on well at first, going to lunch together and spending breaks with each other chatting about their lives. But, as Jennifer continued to help training Constance, the woman had gotten frustrated. She’d struggled with the computer program and some of even the more monotonous job duties, and when Jennifer tried to help, explaining some tips for navigating one of the computer programs they had to work in, Constance had snapped at her, telling her the program was stupid.
She’d really lost it and taken out her frustrations on Jennifer.
Jennifer had apologized (yes, apologized, for heaven’s sake) for Constance’s frustration and assured her that she would get the hang of it. But that was the moment that Jennifer could pinpoint where things had changed between them, and she couldn’t understand why. After then, Constance distanced herself from Jennifer. A few months later, Cunt-stance buddied up with another employee in their division and would often complain loudly about how they were all overworked—and any chance she could, she’d find a way to make Jennifer’s life hell, usually through underhanded comments about the “perfect” people in their unit.
On top of that, though, was the cold honest truth that Jennifer never wanted to talk about. She’d gone to school and majored in Communications, but she’d left school knowing she did not want to work in mass media…which left her with a degree that felt kind of useless. She applied for work where she knew a degree in general would come in handy, especially when she’d have to rely on communication skills (in the case of Edwards, she was the “face” of the company when it came to online correspondence), but she wasn’t rolling in the dough, feeling grateful for all the good her college degree was doing her.
And she’d let her guard down almost right off the bat with her former boyfriend. It had started when he’d pulled her close into an embrace, and—even though he looked like he’d been through the wringer—he felt and smelled just like Zane should, flooding her head with memories and emotions that immediately made it feel like they had only spent a weekend apart, nothing more.
So, by the time he’d asked the right question, she was feeling tense and anxious—and now she was feeling like a real jerk for jumping on him like that.
Zane set his glass of Coke back on the table and smiled at her. “Sure smells good here.”
Jennifer nodded. “Yeah, it does. Hey, Zane…I just wanted to say sorry again. Talk about starting out on the wrong foot.”
He grinned. “Maybe we can get the arguing out of the way first this time.”
She was afraid they wouldn’t have much time together if things were as bad for Zane as she feared…but she wasn’t going to venture there right now. For now, she wanted to try to keep things light and civil. She didn’t want to create bad memories. “Good idea. Let’s say we’re done and move on.” She smiled and then said, “So why don’t you tell me all about that little side project of yours and Ethan’s.” She’d known that Fully Automatic had told their fans in advance about a two-year hiatus. Brad, lead singer and guitarist, and Nick, their drummer, had joined a side project with Valerie to create a band called Val Hella, and Jennifer had been so happy to see her friend back in music. It had killed Valerie to drop out of the band because she’d trashed her vocal chords and was unable to sing for years, and the band had hit it big by the time she was able to afford the surgery to repair the damage done to her throat. Val seemed to be more alive when she was performing, and Jennifer had been thrilled to see how much she’d grown as an artist. She loved Val’s new band and thought the music was better than anything she’d ever done with Fully Automatic. She wasn’t sure why—maybe because it had started out as a male band and had never truly had a woman’s touch, unlike Val’s new band.
And Val’s new band might have been metal, but Ethan and Zane had taken their side project to a whole new level. Heavy and hard and bordering on death metal, the kind of music Jennifer had to listen to in small doses if at all because it was often just too much. But she wanted to hear what Zane thought of it. Most people didn’t know it about Zane, because he put off the vibe of party animal, but he was a thinker. He’d often churned over several ideas in his mind before he ever said a word—unless, of course, he and Jennifer were fighting. She had been known to get him so angry that he’d either completely clam up or yell shit that he sometimes didn’t mean.
“It’s been different…but really cool.”
“Sinful Disobedience. I love that name. Who came up with it?”
“I don’t remember. Me and Ethan were drinking one night—before Brad threatened to kick him out of Automatic—and I think he said if he ever had another band, he’d want me to be part of it. So we kicked around a bunch of names. That was one of ‘em, but I don’t remember if it was me or him who thought of it. But when the four of us decided side projects were okay, we knew we had to use it. I think it’s a great name, and fans have responded well to it.”
“You guys went to Europe to record, right?”
Zane chuckled. “Yeah. Ethan was convinced that a change of scenery, especially going overseas, would make our music more legit.”
“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 e
ver 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 learned 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 b
lowing 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.
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