Mixed Emotions

by MIA HEINTZELMAN

  It was the only solution—complete and brutal honesty.

  Once she and Mike were solidly comfortable in their conversation, Zora would tell Mike about her date with Andre.

  Really, the whole thing is genius.

  “Why am I even sweating it? I should have done this a long time ago.”

  This deserved a toast to her own brilliant, empowering decision to let her past go. She poured herself a glass of Prosecco and lifted it before taking a long swig. The bubbles were contagious. She felt lifted. Overjoyed. She was positively buoyant with having the weight of her crush off her shoulders for good.

  “Cheers!”

  Sip after sip, elation suffused her being, and by her second glass, Zora was cozied up on the living room sofa, deep into the movie Coming to America. Akeem had just stood on the subway dressed in all his princely garb and renounced his thrown. He was professing his love for Lisa McDowell when Zora’s phone vibrated.

  With her buzz fully going by now, she labored to press pause and reach for her phone on the coffee table. It was only a few inches away, but she was starting to feel heavy and relaxed.

  Mike: Sophia texted and asked if we could stop by the restaurant to check the inventory. Headed over there now. Starting the weekend early. Why don’t you meet me there, we’ll grab a to-go box, then get the moving under way. After, maybe we can catch a movie on Netflix and just chill???

  Zora glazed over most of the message. Her focus centered on the three question marks then the four words that preceded them. Was she drunk? Was Michael Dwayne Kennedy really asking to Netflix and chill?

  “That’s some good ass wine.”

  Her head bobbed slightly as she leaned in way too close to look at the label. Her mouth was dry, and the air was a little stuffy, but she had to be drunk. It was the only way to explain this kind of hallucination. She and Mike never Netflix and chilled.

  Did anyone over twenty-one really hook up on the couch under the pretense of watching some lame, non-eighties movie? No, they most certainly did not.

  “Snap out of it.”

  Zora slapped her cheek then pinched the bridge of her nose. She was not in the right state of mind to deal with this kind of proposition.

  The trusty rules of her plan streamed through her head.

  I need to start establishing the rules now. What was it? What is it? Rule number one…talk about it out in the open.

  Squinting, she held the phone at a distance before pulling it within an inch of her nose. She squeezed her eyes shut then blinked as she tried to sit up, only to be forced to lie back down again from light-headedness.

  What is Mike doing? Where is this coming from and why can’t I put two words together?

  Wiggling onto her side, she glanced at the message again. It blurred in front of her as her head bobbled. Spittle dribbled from her lips.

  Zora: Can we tell me something you? I’m so straddling. I think I need to start masturbating again.

  Ease into it.

  For good measure, she sent the emoji with the parted lips because it seemed like it just inhaled a deep breath, which at the moment, seemed like a good thing. Then, she added the quiet face emoji for fun.

  Relief flooded her chest. It felt good to be so honest with him. This was exactly why she needed the rules. It was basically color by numbers for the friend-zoned and dating-challenged.

  Talk about it out in the open.

  Yes.

  Zora blew out a slow breath. She was taking the necessary steps to get there. Start with something simple then get to the crux of it.

  Mike: Wow.

  The three text dots popped up. He was typing again. Even Mike could appreciate how good it felt to have a friend to confide all the crazy things life throws at you. Lazily, she glanced back at the message. The ellipses disappeared and reappeared and then disappeared again.

  “Wow” was the only response he could come up with after a friend confides that they’re stressed? Come on Mike, even you can do better than that.

  What did he have to think about?

  Mike: I don’t know what to say. I’m flattered you’re over-sharing this with me?

  Zora squeezed her eyes then opened them wide. Over-sharing? She scrolled back to the green text bubble with her message and almost fell off the couch.

  Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god.

  “Holy…” Fuck. “Fuuuck. This is not happening to me.”

  Her head pounded, and she looked over at the empty wine bottle. Heat blazed from her neck to her cheeks, and even through her woozy haze, she was mortified.

  “Holy shit, I’m never drinking again.” Fumbling, she gripped the phone with two hands, stabbing at the keys. Her legs were restless, ticking to a rapid, wired craze.

  “Fucking autocorrect!”

  Zora: OMG. I’m so fleakign sorry sorry. Autocorrect did it. The message was supposed to say: I’m so STRESSED, not straddling. I think I need to start MEDITATING again, not masturbating.

  Mike’s reply was quick.

  Mike: lmfao. I’m dying. I was not quite sure what was happening, but I was entertained. Lol

  I cannot believe I just told Mike I think I need to start masturbating again.

  Her fingers were moving but she was not in control of them at the moment. Her heart raced as she fought a losing battle to steady her nerves. How was she ever going to live this down?

  Zora: As you can tell, I might have have hd one too many glasses of wine. I’m going to bury myself in the covers. Can we do the restaurant tomoorow?

  Zora fell back on the couch and covered her eyes. Her phone vibrated.

  Mike: Yep. You’re definitely in no shape to do any type of inventory. We’ve got to go bright and early because of the fumigation schedule, so get some rest. I’ll meet you at the house TOMOOROW.

  His last message was followed by a string of laughing-crying emojis punctuated by a ripe eggplant. Perhaps “talking about it out in the open” might not have been the best rule to begin. The sexual tension was out there now. If it wasn’t glaringly apparent before, there was no escaping the fact Zora needed to come back strong with her resolve.

  Start again in the morning.

  Fresh.

  Clean slate.

  Maybe she would try a simpler rule, like “no touching” or “no date-like outings.” And definitely less alcohol.

  Chapter Twelve

  Mike

  The following morning, Mike showed up early to Patton Place. The scent of pine and freshly cut grass wafted in the morning breeze. The sun was still hiding amid the grayish blue sky. It was “tomoorow,” as Zora had typed it. He chuckled to himself. It was a little sooner than he really needed to be there, but he was still high on his decision. Whether or not Zora knew it, he was ready to face this challenge head on and see where things went between them.

  He rang the doorbell three times before he resorted to knocking on the window. When Zora finally opened the door, it appeared he might be way too early.

  “Hey. No Blue?”

  Zora flashed him a heavy-lidded glare before she covered her mouth to sneeze. “Dog hotel. I’ll pick him up tomorrow. Why are you here at this ungodly hour?” Her voice was thick with sleep as she coughed to clear her throat.

  “Good morning…sunshine!” he sang.

  Maybe a little overkill. Easy, boy.

  “Allergies are getting the best of me today.” She grimaced then winced. Maybe she was remembering their text conversation yesterday.

  Mike pulled his bottom lip between his teeth to keep from laughing at her.

  She blinked a few times. “Whatever. Nine or ten would have been good. Don’t ask me to look at you. My head isn’t right yet. I need coffee.” She groaned then turned on her heel and padded toward the kitchen leaving Mike in the doorway.

  He followed behind her amused by the combination of her embarrassment and evident hangover.

  “I thought the guys would be setting up for the fumigation.” Mike pulled out his phone to double-check th
e email as they entered the kitchen. He scrolled past a new one from Jason with the subject line, “Easton Investments LLC.”

  The whole weekend was still ahead of him. He had time to dig up dirt on Arnold’s plans. He kept scrolling.

  “See, right here. If they’re starting at nine o’clock, there should be trucks and equipment outside. Where’s the big tent thingy?”

  “Coffee first, then I do the things. Not a second sooner,” Zora grunted.

  They sat in silence while she brewed a fresh pot. Only after she took the first sip and moaned with satisfaction did she nod for Mike to continue speaking. Unfortunately, he was still reeling from the lustful sound she’d made. His cock twitched and he cleared his throat.

  It was the sound he imagined she would make when masturbating.

  His insides flooded with warmth. “So, uh, where are all your boxes…the stuff you’re taking to my house?”

  Zora met his gaze then quickly averted her eyes. “They’re in the car in the garage ready to go. I thought I was going to be able to do this last night, but I was held up by a bottle of Prosecco.”

  She bit her lip and refused to look at him. It was amusing, but Mike didn’t want to revel in her discomfort.

  “I can go move the car around while you get ready, if you want,” he said, way too quickly. Mostly, he wanted the chance to do anything other than stand there awkwardly ogling her. Just because he’d decided to see where things would go between them, he wasn’t going to profess his undying love outright. He thought he’d take it slow, put out some feelers, and see where her head was at.

  It seemed his “other head” was moving way faster than he wanted, though.

  What is going on with me?

  It wasn’t like he and Zora didn’t ever hang out. They were together all the time at Everett’s house, the farmer’s market, and bars. Those were all safe places, with food and crowds, where he could trust himself to remember that she was his best friend’s younger sister and not the woman in the tight blue dress…the woman whose body starred in his wet dream last night.

  Mike pinched the bridge of his nose and turned on his heel.

  It took him about ten minutes to move a few of her boxes around in the car and squeeze out of the garage. He parked on the street in front of the house and scanned the perimeter. There were still no signs of anyone preparing to fumigate. He considered he might have read the message wrong. As he climbed the steps to the front door, Mike read the pest control company email once more.

  He didn’t recognize the company, but he knew Everett was pretty picky about the businesses he used. Just below the confirmation and order numbers on the invoice attached was the appointment information.

  Saturday, March 14th, 9:00 a.m.

  It was the right day and not too far off the right time. They were either late or simply had the wrong address.

  Mike was getting the feeling something else was wrong altogether.

  The top of the invoice included a phone number, so he dialed them up. After four rings the line cut off, leaving him staring at the screen. It wasn’t a call failure and there was no option to leave a voicemail. He needed to tell Zora.

  Mike walked back into the house and rushed down the hall, following the sound of her sneezing. He rounded the corner into her bedroom without thinking.

  “Hey, something’s up,” he said, but then he stopped in his tracks.

  Through the steam, he saw Zora’s naked form in her bathroom mirror. His gaze glided over her tight body. He wanted to run the pads of his fingers over her wet silken brown skin. She was leggy and slender, but with sensual, endless curves. Her breasts were small but full, and her ass was worthy of being endlessly kissed.

  He sucked in a stark breath, as electricity coursed through his veins. Then he released a low growl.

  He’d thought it was low, anyway.

  Zora looked over her shoulder and saw him watching her. As she met his eyes, his mind went blank. She was striking, and he was struggling with the decision to look away or keep staring.

  In the meantime, she didn’t move to cover herself.

  Zora raked a hand through her fringe of dark hair and lifted an accusatory brow at him. It wasn’t a wistful glance. Heat flared in her eyes.

  “You were saying?” She urged him to continue as she turned off the water.

  Mike made a strangled sound.

  In turn, his face grew hot and he chided himself for standing there gawking like he’d never seen a naked woman before. While he had many times, he never saw a woman as captivating and disarmingly beautiful as Zora.

  Suddenly, he was twenty-two again. A breathless Zora lay beneath him with her breasts and soft curves pressed against him, he hovered over her gently and nervously, thankful she’d chosen him. His darkened gaze had moved over her as a slow and sexy grin crept through her tears. Her eyes were hooded, and she’d whispered his name.

  Shaking off the thought without turning away, Mike forced his eyes to meet hers.

  “I’m sorry,” Mike managed. It didn't sound like an apology, though. It was more like a low whisper full of the angst and desire coursing through him.

  The same half grin from years before settled on her face as she stepped slowly and sexily out of the shower and leveled him with a penetrating stare.

  There was no towel—just beautifully sculpted flesh and her mouth-watering womanhood.

  Fuck me.

  He bit his lip, and his breath stuttered. The heat in her eyes seared through Mike, gripping his groin low and tight. Another growl pried its way out of him as he took in the fullness of her lips, the supple swell of her breasts, and, Lord have mercy on him, the delicate curve of her neck.

  She’d rattled him. Again.

  She was the only one who could.

  Mike was breathless as he blinked out of his trance. He’d seen her naked before, but never like this—never when she was so confident and empowered.

  “I…” he trailed off, swallowing hard over the lump in his throat. “I’ll just talk to you when you’re ready. We’ll drop your stuff off at my house first, but we need to get to the restaurant.”

  He slinked out of the room with his hard-on between his legs.

  “Sounds good,” she called after him.

  They were definitely at an impasse, but it was too late. He was afraid it might be need, not lust, settling in the pit of his stomach.

  It shook him to the core.

  If he was going to do this, it would need to be slow and well thought out. Most importantly, it would be a decision he made with his head and his heart, not his dick.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Zora

  Zora walked out of the bedroom with her head held considerably higher than it was when Mike first arrived to pick her up. The steamy shower cleared her sinuses and her mind. Mike was waiting for her by the front door reading something on his phone, standing about as far away from her as he could, which was a good thing. The heat on her skin when Mike looked at her naked body had left her horny as hell, and their proximity almost tipped her over the edge. The rules were working, but not exactly in her favor.

  She patted her purse to make sure her phone was in it.

  “I’m ready. Just let me lock up.” She passed by him and waited for him to make his way down the steps before locking the door and following behind him.

  The rules were going to try her willpower for sure. They were backfiring by the second. She was completely turned on. Mike’s ass was one of the world’s greatest testaments to exercise and fitness. She could just sink her teeth into it.

  Zora bit the tip of her finger and tried not growl.

  Just then her phone vibrated against her hip.

  “Hold on a sec. Let me get this,” she called ahead to Mike. She fished her phone out of her purse and took the call. “This is Zora.”

  “It’s Leanne. I’m so glad I caught you. Now, find yourself something to hold onto. Have I got news for you!”

  Leanne Ramey was not only th
e best literary agent on the face of the earth for anyone who ever picked up a mixing spoon, but a genuinely happy person. Every single time Zora talked to her, she was at a New Year’s Eve level of excitement about everything—a new book tote, a new place to eat with the best fries in town, a cute pen. Don’t even get her started on day planners and Washi stickers.

  It didn’t take much. So, Zora wasn’t exactly ready to grab at something to steady herself over Leanne’s great new purse or the fact the sun was smiling on Portland this morning.

  “Oates Book Group bought your book!” The decibel level of the ear-piercing squeal Leanne let loose was epic.

  Maybe I should have taken her advice.

  Zora wasn’t sure her eardrums would work again, but she matched Leanne’s squeal with a masterful scream of her own and danced on the brick walkway. Then she just stood there shaking her head in disbelief. Her heartbeat was off the charts and all of the hair on her body was standing at attention.

  She tossed a worried-looking Mike the thumbs-up, waving off his visibly rising panic.

  Not until she heard Leanne’s faint voice calling her, did she come back down to earth.

  “Zora? Zora?”

  “Are you kidding me? Please don’t be kidding me because I’m dying! I’m dead. I died.”

  “Don’t die,” Leanne said. “This is real. When I say they wanted the book, I mean, we were almost about to go into a bidding war with James & Jensen over it. This is big.”

  Zora sensed a serious undertone in Leanne’s remarks. She pressed a hand to knocking heart. “Wait. What are you not telling me?”

  “Well, this is where I need you to be on your A game. They want to put it out in early November.”