by Karigan Hale
"You can go whenever you want. I can call you a ride share back to your hotel," Zander said flatly.
"I don't understand why I can't just stay with you?" she whined some more, sipping on her club soda.
"It's my brother's apartment. Not mine," he said through gritted teeth. Lizzie had the feeling they'd had this conversation before.
"Lizzie," he called. She turned to look at him. And for the first time since Tiffany showed up with her lies, she didn't shy away from his stare. She held his gaze. His eyes were laser focused on hers—the amber rays sparking in the dark bar room. Tiffany tried in vain to get Zander's attention back to her. Well, two could play at that game. She'd show Tiffany she was far from a boy.
"Can I help you?" she asked with a half-smile letting her eyes fill with heat. He smiled back and raised an eyebrow.
"In more ways than you know," he said.
Tiffany hit his arm and said, "I'm right here, you know?" He ignored her.
"Another round?" Lizzie asked gesturing to his empty glass. He shook his head in the affirmative. He pushed the empty glass towards her, and she let her fingers brush against his as she took it from him. She felt it all the way to her core. From the way his eyes darkened, she knew he felt it, too.
She broke eye contact when she went to pour him another beer. She could hear snippets of Zander's conversation with Tiffany over the din of the other customers. It seemed pretty one-sided.
"I can't believe you're flirting with her right in front of me!" Tiffany said.
"If it weren't for my child you're carrying, I wouldn't even be here with you," Zander said. With no one clambering for her attention, Lizzie finally had time to look up sonograms on her phone. And bingo! Date and time and mother's name are stamped at the top of each one.
"Don't say that. This baby is a miracle showing us we're meant to be together," she said filling her eyes with tears. Oh, she was good. Lizzie had to hand her that. Perhaps she'd tried this stunt before.
"Tiffany. We've been over this," Zander sighed.
"What do you see in her anyway?" Tiffany spat gesturing at Lizzie. "She smells like a bar room and looks like a boy."
Lizzie couldn't help but snap her attention to them. Oh, she hated this bitch. She finished filling the glass and tried not to spill it as she stomped back towards them. She wanted to save ever glorious drop for when she threw it in Tiffany's stupid, lying face.
Zander said, "Lizzie has more class in her little finger than you have in your whole body. Don't you ever talk about her." He physically removed Tiffany from touching him. "And I want a paternity test as soon as humanly possible."
"A paternity test may not be necessary," Lizzie said putting the drinks down on the bar in front of them. She didn't want to waste good beer on the bimbo. Both sets of eyes landed on her.
"This is a private conversation," Tiffany said snottily.
"Then you shouldn't be having it in a public bar," Lizzie said. Then added sweetly, "Can I see your sonogram pictures?"
"Why?" Tiffany asked warily.
"I didn't get a good look earlier," she said.
"Those are private, too," Tiffany said.
"Then show Zander. He has a right to see them as the father, right?"
"What is all this?" Zander asked.
"When you saw them the first time, did you look at the information on the top?" Lizzie asked.
"No. The surprise baby kinda distracted me," Zander said.
"There should be a date, time, and name listed at the top of the sonograms. I'll bet my motorcycle they don't even remotely match what she's claiming," Lizzie said. Now it was her turn to smile smugly as Tiffany's face slowly drained of color. Then filled back up red with rage.
"You bitch! What are you suggesting?"
"I heard you talking on the phone in the alley, Tiffany. I know you made the whole thing up to trap Zander into marrying you," Lizzie said.
"She's lying," Tiffany said, turning to Zander and grabbing his arm. He shook her off.
"What did you hear, Lizzie?" he said. The confusion in his eyes slowing turning to anger.
Lizzie told him about the conversation she overheard. His expression turned more and more hostile with each word.
"You were going to tell me you'd lost my child? What kind of monster are you?" Zander asked when Lizzie finished.
"You don't seriously believe her?" Tiffany asked. "She's just jealous! She's the one who's making things up!"
"Well, there's an easy way to clear this up. Show me the sonograms." He held out his hand.
"I...I don't have them with me," Tiffany faltered.
"More lies. I saw you show them to Gabby earlier tonight," Lizzie said. "Give it up, Tiffany. Your game is over."
"Show them to me, now, Tiffany," Zander said quietly. In his low tenor it was even more intimidating than if he'd yelled. Lizzie leaned her elbows on the counter to watch the show.
Tiffany resorted to her old tactics. She filled her eyes with tears, pouted her bottom lip, and stuck her impressive breasts further into Zander's face. "Zanny, baby, can we just talk. Alone? I can explain everything. Just not here. Not in front of her."
"Tiffany, that shit didn't work when I liked you. It surely isn't going to work now that I can barely stand to be near you. Cut the bullshit and show me the pictures or get the fuck out," he said.
She turned the waterworks off in an instant. "Fine. The pictures aren't really mine."
Zander stood up so quickly, his bar stool almost fell over. Tiffany quickly latched onto his arm like the parasite she'd referenced earlier. "But I am pregnant with your baby. I just haven't had a chance to go to the doctor's yet. I know I am. I can feel it. I can feel our connection."
Lizzie couldn't help but laugh out loud. Tiffany turned her scorn towards her. "And you. You think you've won? Well, you can't have him either. He lives in Atlanta. He can have any woman he wants. And you think he would pick you?" She laughed. "You're just a sad, little rebound while he's out of town."
Hearing her worst fears said out loud by this nobody who didn't even know her stopped Lizzie cold. She tried to fix her face, but apparently wasn't quick enough.
"That's right, bitch," Tiffany said. "Not laughing now, are you?"
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Zander didn't miss the shocked look on Lizzie's face, either. Shit. He opened his mouth to defend her. To try to say anything to let Lizzie know she was more than just a rebound. He didn't even need a rebound from someone like Tiffany. But his smart, tough girl beat him to it.
"The difference is I knew all along what was between Zander and I," Lizzie said. "I didn't have to lie or scheme or stalk him across four states to get him into my bed. So, think what you want. But think it somewhere other than my bar. Brendan," she called over her shoulder. "It's your turn to take out the trash."
Zander wanted to haul Lizzie over the bar counter and kiss her senseless. He couldn't control the shit eating grin on his face. He was so thankful and proud; he didn't even care he called Lizzie as "his girl." Claiming her was beginning to feel much more comfortable.
Brendan raised an eyebrow but, after one look at Lizzie's face, refrained from asking questions. "Come on, sweetheart," he said to Tiffany grabbing her by the upper arm. "Time to go. I'll call you a taxi."
"Get your hands off of me. She can't kick me out! I'm not even drunk!" she shrieked.
"As owner of this bar, she can kick you out. And just did."
"Owner?" Tiffany exclaimed. "No fucking way."
"Yes, way. And, as the other owner of this bar, I can call the cops instead of a taxi if you refuse to leave our establishment," he let go of her. "Your choice."
She huffed and puffed but finally accepted she was defeated. "Nice folks you hang around, Zander. I'll see you when you get back to Atlanta. Where you belong. Maybe then you'll have come to your senses."
"If you contact me again, I'll get a restraining order," Zander said matter-of-factly.
She glowered at him. "Have f
un with Flat Stanley, then, for now. Because you're not getting any of this," she grabbed her enormous boobs and shook them at him, "until you apologize correctly."
Brendan stifled a laugh behind his hand. Zander hoped he exuded boredom.
"Bye, Tiffany," he said. "And I mean it this time. Good. Bye."
Brendan followed her to the door to make sure she did in fact exit. Zander watched until they were half-way across the room, then turned to thank Lizzie for revealing the truth about Tiffany. But she was gone. Not behind the bar. Not helping other customers. Not out by the tables. He contemplated the repercussions for going into the Employee's Only section to see if she was back there.
Fuck it. He had helped put this place back together. He'd apologize for trespassing later. He made a beeline for the swinging door leading to the kitchen. He poked his head in the office, but she wasn't there. Then headed into the kitchen where Jerry was still cleaning up from the earlier dinner rush.
"She just went out the back way," he said when Zander rushed in.
"Thanks," Zander said.
"But good luck catching her. She had her helmet," Jerry added. Zander heard the roar of her motorcycle to confirm Jerry was right. He sprinted out to the parking lot to see if he could catch her, but she was already halfway down the street. He switched directions to his rental car instead. Tiffany still paced in front of the bar waiting for her taxi. She had her phone to her ear and was talking much too loudly. Jesus, what had he ever seen in her?
She waved at him as he got into his car, but luckily her ridiculously high heels made it impossible for her to wobble fast enough to stop him. He blew road dust in her face and waved at her in his rear-view mirror. She gave him the finger.
Good. Maybe the more he acted like an asshole, the less she would want to continue to be with him. He made the turn out of the parking lot and stepped on the gas to try to catch up to Lizzie before she locked him out of her house. Why had she run out? She won—assuming anyone would consider him a prize. He'd called her out on her anger defense the other day, but he much preferred that to her flight reaction. At least she would still talk to him when she was mad.
She couldn't really believe she was just a rebound to him or something to do while he was in town. Could she? Had he ever told her differently? He'd confessed his high school crush to her. He'd told her he wanted to be with her. But he hadn't really offered any proof.
And she was quite different than all of his other past girlfriends. She'd always been sensitive about her lack of girliness and not being his type. And Tiffany, who didn't even know her, had shoved that right in her face.
He pressed the gas harder. He had to find her. To set this right. He'd lay his heart at her feet if he had to.
But, despite being only a few minutes behind her, he didn't see her on the road at all. Unless she just took a different route. He pulled into her driveway in record time. But her house was dark. Like nobody home dark.
Like a creeper, he peeked in the front window, but couldn't see anything except the faint glow from the light over her stove. He thought he saw movement from the hallway and pressed his face against the screen to get a better angle.
Two eyes suddenly appeared behind the glass. "Shit!" He jumped back and fell on his ass in the mulch. Peabody rubbed his furry body against the window and silently meowed at him. He laughed at himself. "Damn cat."
If Peabody was in the window, Lizzie was definitely not inside. That cat was never far from her feet when she was home. He sighed and got back into his car. If she was just out riding, he'd never find her. And he couldn't think of where else she would go this late at night.
He rubbed his hands over his face. He'd come here to get his life in order. Set his priorities. Figure out what he wanted. Instead, he'd gone ahead and fucked up Lizzie's life, too. He'd made her doubt her career, her money, her decisions, her appearance, her love life. He caused a rift between her and Xavier. And her and Nick.
And him and Xavier. And him and Nick. Come to think of it.
He was the most selfish dickhead who ever lived. He banged his head on the steering wheel. How could he fix this? He needed to fix this.
And fast since his flight was in two days. Unfortunately, Tiffany was right about his life being in Atlanta. He'd built a career and a network there. Lizzie said she understood. If he could just figure out how to show her she was more than just a fling. If only they didn't live four states away from each other, he'd want to continue to date her. To see where this budding romance might lead. To keep her in his bed and his life. He didn't care if it made him sound pussy whipped.
Of course, he had to find her first. And hope she agreed to see him.
In the meantime, he could try to patch things up with his brother and his best friend. He checked the time—2:30am. Well, those conversations might have to wait until morning as well. He settled on a text for now. At least he couldn't chicken out in the morning, then.
He sent them both the same text.
ZANDER: Im the biggest dickhead. Im sorry. Can we talk?
Then sent the same one to Lizzie as well. The apology applied to everyone. He resigned himself to another sleepless night—a night without Lizzie in his arms—and drove back to Xavier's apartment to wait for morning.
The last thing he expected was a return text at this ungodly hour of the morning. The robotic car voice startled him when it said, "Text from Nick the dick."
Zander braced himself for the fallout, glad the car voice had no inflection. "Yes, you are. I’m sorry, too."
He let out a breath. Okay. Progress on one front.
And he also clung to the hope he felt when Lizzie clearly flirted with him at the bar. Before Tiffany threw their inevitable end in her face. He'd never really regretted his relationships in the past, but he did regret bringing that crazy monstrosity into Lizzie's life.
And he owed Lizzie big time for revealing the truth before he did something crazy like move in with Tiffany or marry her or whatever her ultimate plan was. He wanted to believe he'd have gone through with his paternity test request before it got that far. Luckily, because of Lizzie, he didn't have to.
Where was she? He sat in his car in the apartment complex parking lot to send her another text.
ZANDER: Where are you? You okay?
He waited a beat—with high hopes but low expectations—for a response, then resignedly sulked his way up to the apartment.
CHAPTER THIRTY
Lizzie curled into a ball on her childhood bed at her parent's house. She wanted to be alone and figured no one would really look for her here. The camera app on her phone alerted her when Zander showed up at her house. She figured he would eventually, but he must have chased her out of the parking lot to make it there that fast.
She wasn't mad at him. Although from the text she just received, he seemed to think she was. No. He'd been nothing but honest from the beginning. He was leaving. He wasn't looking for long term. They were just physically compatible.
Okay, that was an understatement. They were practically combustible. Just thinking about his hands and his lips on her made her hot.
No. Not mad at him. She was frustrated with herself. She'd gone and done a very stupid thing.
She'd fallen in love with Zander Drake.
It didn't take much to push her over the edge of that tempting abyss. She'd been half in love with him since high school anyway. It was easier when he was in another state. When she didn't have to see him or hear his gravelly voice or feel his hands on her. It was easier when she thought he was a selfish asshole.
But despite his outward reputation cultivated by a need to fit in—a need she understood all too well—Zander had shown her his true gooey sensitive underbelly. He'd been showing it to her since high school. He wasn't the arrogant, look-at-me, cool jock as he gave her one-on-one motorcycle lessons. Nor was he that way when they were together here and now. Even her very picky cat liked him!
And she wanted to keep him, dammit. Could she convince him
to stay? His company was potentially opening a new office here. Was she enough for him to uproot his entire life and move back to the town he tried to escape?
Oh, who was she kidding. Even though Tiffany was a shallow gold-digger, she did make some valid observations. Lizzie didn't deceive herself by thinking she was more than what she was—a plain tomboy who didn't care about her appearance contentedly running a local bar in a DC suburb. She wasn't someone a high-end real estate broker saw in his forever plans. She'd seen the pictures of the wives of his firm's partners. They were glamorous and classy and put together and sophisticated.
Maybe she should have paid more attention in those finishing school classes her mother tried to get her to attend. Maybe then she'd have a chance at convincing Zander to take a chance on forever with her. God, she must be upset if she willingly admitted her mother might be right about something.
Her phone pinged with a text. She reached out from under her blanket cocoon to pull it under the covers with her.
ZANDER: Where are you? You okay?
She sighed. She'd have to face him eventually. None of this was his fault. She just wasn't strong enough to harden her heart against him. Plus, she wanted to see him again. To say good-bye. His flight back to Atlanta was in two days. And here she was huddled under the covers alone—not even with her cat—when she could be cuddled up next to his hot body. There would be plenty of time for sulking after he left.
She threw off the covers. There would be plenty of time for sulking after he left. She splashed some cold water on her blotchy face and texted him back.
LIZZIE: Needed some air. Headed back to my place. Want to keep me company?
ZANDER: YES! See you in 10
LIZZIE: Make it 20. Im at my parents
ZANDER: I'll probably beat you there
Lizzie smiled sadly as she adjusted her helmet. Of course he would come for a booty call. After all, that's what this little affair was all about from the beginning. She was determined to enjoy it one last time. And maybe pretend it meant more to Zander, too.