by Sadie Grubor
"Hey, pretty boy, you need to hurry your ass up," my sister shouts from the end of the hallway.
All heads turn in her direction before coming back to me.
"I'm starting to regret giving my sister PA responsibilities," I sigh.
"Older?" Liza asks.
Shaking my head, I answer, "Nope, younger."
Jackson laughs and claps a hand on my shoulder.
"I'd get going so you don't piss her off more," he teases.
"I would fire her, but then she'd tell our parents," I joke.
"Good to see you," Jack says, guiding Liza down the hall.
"Same," I lift my chin and head toward my pain in the ass sister.
"So, Zarek, you were supposed to talk with us over the phone today, but decided to do it in person. What changed your plan?" the radio personality asks, trying to get some exclusive dirt.
"Well…" I begin, licking my bottom lip as one corner of my mouth curls.
Gemma's face flashes into mind, just like it has been for months, then my mind drifts to Chris back at the previous station. His I don't give a fuck attitude and blatant disregard for anyone but the woman he loves is to blame for what comes out of my mouth next.
"I've got a friend in town, and I want to see her perform."
Each radio host perks up, practically drooling on their microphones.
In my peripheral, I don't miss my sister's dark head popping up. My attention moved to the window revealing a separate studio room as Zora lifts her hands, eyes round, and mouths, "What the fuck are you doing?"
"Must be a special friend," the host presses, pulling my attention back to my sister.
Leaning into the mic, I state, "Yes, she is."
"Is Zarek Sisko turning in his onstage-orgasm-giving card and settling down?" The other host jumps in, pushing for more information.
"No, not at all." I shake my head. "I'm just dedicating those orgasms to one particular woman," I add.
A rhythmic thud on the window draws my attention. My sister stands, tapping her forehead on the glass.
"Who is this lucky lady?"
Grinning, I fly high on this feeling of openness, freedom, and truth.
"I'll just say my diva can hit notes you've never heard when we're together." The moment I tease them with the information, a slice of rightness cuts through me.
"And," I continue, "I've actually gotta get going." I look at my nonexistent watch. "I have a show to attend this evening and wouldn't want to be late."
They thank me for coming by and start hyping up the exclusive as I step out of the room.
"What the fuck are you doing?" Zora hisses, slapping my arm. "Do you want to die? Are you trying to make my life hell?"
Grabbing the sides of her head, I place a sloppy kiss to my little sister's forehead.
"I've got a woman to woo before the world figures out I'm full of shit," I tell her, releasing her head and walking away.
"You've got a restraining order to watch out for," she grumbles. "That's what you've got to do."
"She can restrain me anytime," I say over my shoulder.
"Too much information, Zarek," she yells at my back.
It shouldn't surprise me. I mean, I did just start a media fire and fuck if it isn't blazing in front of the hotel. Cameras and microphones are shoved in my face as questions are shouted. When I finally make it through the sea of paparazzi and reach the elevator, the adrenaline wears off, and the reality of what I've done starts to sink in.
She's gonna fucking kill me.
Gemma may only be five-foot-two, but she packs quite a punch. My eye twitches in remembrance of the bruise she left there.
"What the fuck did I start?" I groan, dropping my head back against the wall of the elevator.
"Oh, did the blood finally return to your brain instead of your dick?" Zora snaps.
I know she doesn't really want an answer, but still, I respond, "She's gonna go straight for my dick this time. I know it."
"As she should," Zora states, vehement.
"Fuck, I just…"
How am I supposed to make anyone understand how I'm feeling? How do I explain why I did this without sounding like an immature douchebag? As always, I revert to childish antics when it comes to Gemma.
"You just love her," Zora sighs, leaning into my side.
Opening my eyes, I stare at the ceiling.
Is that what this is? Love?
"Yes, Zarek, it is," Zora answers the questions I hadn't realized I said out loud.
Afraid of the reply, I whisper, "Is she gonna hate me?"
"I don't know."
Chapter Four
Zarek
The elevator chimes and the doors slide open, revealing the hallway and a tiny, pink-haired woman.
At the ding, she stops pacing and snaps her head in my direction.
Mouth set in a hard line, her eyes narrow on me, and she marches toward the lift.
"You asshole," she shouts.
"Gem." Her assistant rushes after her.
"Miss Harper." A massive wall of muscle grabs her around the waist. "Let's get you in your room," he says, trying to contain Gemma's outburst.
Ted, my security detail, steps in front of the doors, blocking my view and her path.
"Put me down," Gemma shouts. "I'll behave."
There's whispering, and then she speaks again, but closer.
"Move," she orders.
"Ted, let her by," I instruct, patting his shoulder.
"Not a good idea, sir," he says, keeping his eyes on her.
"Yeah, he has a lot of not so good ideas," Zora mumbles.
Pushing by Ted, she grabs his arm, and he allows her to move him.
All apprehension and worry flee with her so close.
"What game are you playing, Zarek?" Gemma asks through clenched teeth.
The doors try to close, but I step in the way and lean against one side.
"It's not a game, baby." I cross my arms over my chest.
"You're such an asshole," she insults, using both hands to shove me.
Ted takes a step toward us.
"Don't," I warn, my eyes on him.
The muscle in his jaw ticks, but he listens.
"What the fuck are you up to?" The crack of her voice makes me frown.
"Don't cry." I place my hand on her face.
"Don't touch me," she chokes out as she slaps my hand away.
Straightening, I grab her face with both hands and lean in. "This isn't a game. Not anymore. I'm done denying what I want, done letting you run away, and exhausted with the back and forth. You're mine, baby."
"Let go," she demands, trying to pull away from me.
Dipping my head, my lips hover over hers.
She stills, hands gripping my wrists.
"Not this time," I whisper against her mouth before licking her bottom lip.
She gasps, and I crash my lips to hers, invading her mouth with my tongue, feasting on the taste of her.
Fuck, I've missed this.
Her response is immediate, pressing closer to my body. Slipping one hand into her hair and the other down her side and over her hip, I grip her ass, jerking her closer, then back us into the elevator, letting the doors shut.
Unwilling to release her, I kick out my leg, using my foot to press the button that keeps the elevator where it is.
Trapped inside the lift, alone and desperate for one another, I spin and pin her against the wall.
On a gasp for air, she pulls her mouth from mine. I move my lips over her cheek and lick the line of her jaw to her ear.
"Zarek," she moans, sending a surge of lust to my dick. I press closer, rocking against her hip.
"Zarek, stop," she pleads on another moan.
I don't.
She shoves hard at my chest. "Stop!"
Flattening my palms on either side of her head, I remove my mouth from her skin and take deep breaths.
"Damn it, Gem, why can't you trust this?"
"Move," she wh
ispers.
"Why don't you feel the same way I do?" I ask in her ear.
She makes a pained sound at the same time a sob rips through her.
"Gemma?" I push off the wall and lift her face to mine.
The tears are worse than the punch to the face. Each one feels like a razor blade against my soul.
"Talk to me," I beg. "I can't ignore this anymore."
Pulling her chin from my hand, she wipes away the tears and slips under my arm. "Forget about me.”
"I can't." I drop my head.
When the elevator jerks, I straighten and turn around. Gemma's released the button and pressed our floor.
"You seem to have done just fine," she hiccups, "moving on."
I snort, drawing a scowl from her. "Moving on? That's what you think?"
The elevator chimes, and Gemma steps off as soon as the doors slide open, rushing to her room.
"Fuck this," I growl, following on her heels.
"Leave me alone, Zarek, and fix the shit storm you created," she demands from just inside her penthouse door. I slam my palm against it, pushing it completely open.
Her eyes widen.
"That's enough." Muscle man wraps his arm around my throat, pulling me backward.
"I'm going to have to ask that you release him," Ted interrupts, his face mere inches from the man gripping my neck.
The guards struggle with each other, and then with me, but I get loose. Charging into Gemma's suite, I slam the door shut.
"Fuck!" they both shout.
"What the hell are you doing?" The frown on Gemma’s face matches her disapproving tone.
"I'm not letting you shove me to the side." There's an edge of annoyance to my words, but I can't help it. "I can't play pretend anymore, G," I admit, using the nickname from our time together.
"Don't call me that," she says, losing some of the steely edge from her voice.
"What happened between us was a mistake."
Her eyes widen and jaw tenses.
"I never should've let you leave," I finish.
The tension melts from her face, eyes filling with unshed tears.
I'm vaguely aware we aren't alone. Gemma's assistant and another woman stand a few feet behind her, but I don't have time to focus on them. Soon, that wall of muscle is going to bust through the door and drag me out.
"It was for the best," she whispers.
Shaking my head, I move closer. "No, it wasn't."
She opens her mouth, but before she can protest, I continue.
"After you left, I spent weeks feeling numb and lost. Do you have any fucking clue what you've done to me?"
She blinks, freeing one tear from the corner of her eye.
Reaching out, I cup her face and swipe at the drop with my thumb.
"I tried to forget you the way you obviously forgot me," I say, moving into her personal space and tilting her face to mine.
"You moved on," she says, her voice raw, harsh. "I saw all the ways you moved on, Zarek."
With a humorless laugh, I rub my thumb on her cheek once more.
"I fucking tried." My throat tightens, knowing what I'm about to say won't do me any favors. "You cut me out completely. After those nights together, you pretended like we never happened, and it felt like a physical cut. I felt the pain every time you declined a call, ignored my messages, and then you changed your fucking number." I snort. "So, I decided, fuck you. I wanted to show you I could forget about you too."
"I don't want to hear anymore." She tries to pull her face away, but I don’t let her.
"I was a fucking idiot." I slide my hands down, resting them on either side of her neck. "You crashed into my life, fucking changed everything, and then blew away like a fucking breeze."
Lowering my face to hers, I don't break eye contact.
"It's been so fucking cold and lonely without you, G," I whisper against her mouth.
The urge to lick her mouth is almost too much to resist, but I'm already pushing her, and I don't want it to be farther away.
"Don't," she begs as tears escape her beautiful eyes.
The door behind me swings open.
"Let her go," the deep voice demands.
"Never again," I say, my voice growing huskier.
"You need to. Please," she begs, more tears spilling over.
"No." I shake my head.
"Please, Zarek, you don't want me." Gripping my wrists, she pulls my hands away and takes a step back.
"Didn't you fucking hear me?" My voice raises, the frustration evident.
"Yes," she cries. "But you want someone who isn't here. I'm not the girl you think I am or want." She turns away from me, wrapping her arms around her middle.
"You're exactly who I want," I retort.
Her pink hair sways as she shakes her head.
"Just go." She sounds tired, defeated.
"Fucking make me," I challenge.
Lifting her head, she spins around, fire flickering in her watery eyes. "You aren't the only one who fucked away their pain," she says through her sobs, and the words feel like a stab to my chest, sucking the air from my lungs.
You did the same, hypocrite.
Shaking off the shock and how much it bothers me, I tell her, "I don't care."
She snorts, throwing her arms out. "I was in a relationship for months with someone else."
It feels like I stumble back, but I'm not sure. Closing my eyes, I ask through clenched teeth, "Are you still with him?"
"If I say yes?" she asks without hesitation.
My eyes snap open, anger surging through my veins. "Then get rid of the asshole, G. You belong to me." I point to my chest at the spot where it feels like there should be a hole.
The determined anger on her face is replaced with pain.
"You aren't with him," I state, already knowing by the look on her face. "Was there even someone? Or was that just to fucking gut me further?"
Covering her face with her hands, she sinks to the floor and sobs.
Before anyone else can reach her, I kneel and take her in my arms.
She buries her face in my chest, and cries, "It's too late for us."
"No, baby, it's—"
She lifts her head, sets her shoulders, and meets my eyes.
"I'm pregnant," she confesses. "It's his baby."
A gasp and a groan come from a few feet away, and I'm not proud to admit my embrace loosens.
The words are the final punch, and a flurry of emotions move through me. She notices, pushes out of my arms, and crawls away from me.
"Like I said, it's too late. You should go."
"You heard her." Muscle man grips my arm, pulling me to my feet.
My shock morphs into pain, followed by anger and so many fucking questions.
"Where the fuck is he?" I ask, yanking out of the large man's grip. "‘Cause I know you aren't together."
She takes a shuddering breath. "It doesn't matter. Just—"
"Fuck if it doesn't matter," I shout. "Did he leave you? Is he helping you?"
Gemma drops her head, tears dripping from her face to the hard floor.
That motherfucker. My anger boils over into rage.
"He knocked you up and then took off?"
"Get out, Zarek," she shouts, voice thick with tears.
"Damn it, Gemma—" I begin to demand she tell me who this dick-less wonder is, so I can fucking kill him.
"I don't need a lecture or for you to rub it in my face," she screams. "I know I'm a fucking mess, and clearly the apple doesn't fall far from the fucking whore of a mother, does it?"
Her words remind me of what an asshole I've been to her. She confided in me about her neglectful mother, growing up white trash, as she called it. How the woman sold herself to get her next hit and the occasional cash to turn on the lights or get food. Then, in the middle of a childish revenge, I took that shit and threw it in her face.
Rushing to her side, I drop to my knees and pull her into my arms once more. She struggles to
get free of me, but I won't let her go—I can't let her go.
"No, baby," I shush her protests and sobs. "You're nothing like her. I was an angry, bitter asshole who didn't mean what he was saying."
Her body collapses into mine.
"But you were right," she sobs. "I'm just like her."
"No." I run my hand over her head, holding it to my chest. "You are the best person I know."
"I'm not," she argues.
"You are," I tell her, releasing her head. "Want to know how I know that?"
Dropping her head back, she looks up at me. "How?"
"Because it took the most amazing fucking person to make a douche like me fall in love for the first time."
Her eyes widen, mouth parts, and I crush my lips to hers.
Chapter Five
Gemma
After a knock on the door, Mal calls my name.
Lifting my head from Zarek's chest, I respond, "Come in."
The door slowly opens, and she peeks in, her eyes taking in the sight of Zarek and I curled up in the middle of the king size bed.
After our confrontation and my meltdown, he carried me up here and laid me on top of the neatly tucked comforter. For a moment, I feared he was leaving, but the rustle of his clothing put my nerves at ease. Having removed his long-sleeved shirt, shoes, and belt, he slid in next to me. His bare arm wrapped around my waist, giving a small squeeze before turning me over to face him.
Sifting one hand into my hair, he angled my face up to his and demanded to know everything. He refused to let the topic die, so I finally told him the story, confessing everything from using Derren to try to forget him and admitting the feelings I thought I'd started to feel for him. When I got to the part where Derren hit me and his abandonment after finding out I'm pregnant, he fell quiet. Not just quiet, but eerily silent, to the point where was afraid to speak.
Now, Mal takes in our position: Zarek on his back, my cheek pressed to his right pectoral, my arm over his stomach, and my fingers twisting in the white cotton of his tank top, him still not saying anything. Every breath I take is filled with a mix of his cologne and natural scent. It's familiar, comfortable.
"Do you have any preferences for dinner?"
"I'm not hungry," I tell her.
"You need to eat before the show tonight," she pushes, her voice gentle, concerned.
