“Don't look at me like that. You make me feel like the biggest asshole on the planet.”
“Sorry. I just hoped...” I start, but he cuts me off. Pulling me into a sitting position on the bed, he bends down so that our faces are inches apart.
“Don't for one second think that there's any place I would rather be than right here with you, but if Emma sees me here, well, I'm not one hundred percent certain that Alec wouldn't find out. And Grace, as much as this meant to me, and it did...” he pauses, tilting my chin upward to meet his gaze. “Mean something to me, I can't take the chance of Alec finding out.”
“I get it. I don't like it. But I get it.” I pull the sheet up to cover my body as he slips on the last of his clothes.
Truth be told, I don't want Alec finding out any more than he does. I have no idea where this is going but destroying a longstanding relationship is not something I want to be responsible for. Not to mention the rift it would put between me and Alec. I feel a ping of guilt for deceiving my brother this way. Deep down I know without a doubt that if Alec ever found out he would cut Zayne out of his life without hesitation.
“Where's your phone?” he asks, reaching down and picking up my jeans off the floor when I point to them. He pulls it out of the pocket and types something before locking it and handing it to me. “I gotta go. I'll call you.” He leans forward to kiss me again. “I promise,” he whispers across my lips, clearly seeing the conflict in my eyes.
“Okay.” It’s all I can manage to get out before he kisses my forehead and disappears into the hallway. “Zayne, wait!” I holler after him, wrapping the sheet tighter around my body as I sprint into the living room.
He turns to face me, just feet from the door, and I launch my body into his arms. He holds me tightly to his chest, lifting my feet from the ground as I take both of his cheeks in my hands.
“Just in case you decide to beat yourself up for this later, don't,” I say, taking his mouth against mine rough and hard before pulling away, leaving us both panting. “No regrets.” I squirm loose from his grip. As soon as my feet hit the floor, I flash him a bright smile and then hightail it back into my room, shutting the door behind me but not before I hear a light laugh escape his lips as he exits the apartment.
I throw myself down on my bed and let out a long, loud sigh and instantly start laughing. Did that really just happen? Did I really just have sex with Zayne Evans of all people? The man who both infuriates me and reduces me to a puddle of desire and want. The man who has pissed me off more times than he has made me smile. The man who I swear is the most beautiful person to ever walk the face of the earth.
How is this even possible? I want to think it to death. To beat it around in my head so many times that I find myself questioning every decision I've made, but I refuse to let myself go down that path. I have had enough shit luck to last me several lifetimes. It's about time I let myself be happy.
But even through all of this, through my newfound need to find happiness, doubt manages to creep in somewhere through the cracks. But right as the panic and fear of the entire situation starts to take over my once blissful moment, a text message signals on my phone, pulling me from the dark place that my mind tends to wander, reminding me that maybe, just maybe, something good can happen to a girl who has never known anything but loss. Maybe there's room for my happiness. And maybe, I think, as I read my words repeated back to me via text message from Zayne, I will find it in the most unexpected place. No regrets.
ZAYNE SAID HE WOULD call, so I try not to dwell on the fact that two days have passed with no word from him. I try not to jump to the worst case scenario and remind myself that he and I are not a couple. Hell, we barely know each other. He owes me nothing. And yet I feel like he does owe me at least a phone call. A hey how's it going? Something. Anything. The truth is, it eats at me more than I would like to admit.
I mean, what kind of man sleeps with someone and then goes two days with no contact? Having never been in this situation before, I don't know if I’m overreacting or if my reaction to his silence is warranted.
Either way, the world does not stop turning because I may or may not have made a horrible mistake by giving a man like Zayne something I can never get back. But even that's not really it. I guess I hoped for so much more. I don't know why I ever thought I would be anything other than a notch in his very extensive bedpost.
Now, as I sit on the stage at Vitos, I find myself more distracted than I would like to be on my first night at my new job. Even still, the crowd is relatively small, about fifteen people are scattered throughout the bar. All lost in their own conversations and paying next to no attention to me, which suits me just fine.
Jake is offsetting me tonight. Since I haven't had the time to put together a playlist that can fill a complete three hour time slot, Jake and I are both playing three, thirty minute sets each, while Becca mans the bar. I was so relieved when I found out that this is how it would work to begin with. I was afraid I was going to have to play the same twenty songs twice. Apparently, this had been the plan all along and I will not officially take on the full three hour set for another few weeks.
Jake already played his first set and I found myself watching him, completely entranced by his raspy voice and his overall stage presence. That man was made to play music. From the way he plays the guitar with such ease, to the way he makes everyone grab onto his every word, he is a natural talent through and through. I honestly wonder why he doesn’t just fill the spot regularly rather than paying me to do it. Then again, I guess running the bar and providing the entertainment would be a bit much for one person to take on.
After giving the strings a few strums to ensure my guitar is completely in tune, I start my set out with "Not Even Human" by Angel Taylor. It's originally done in piano but having the ability to read music allows me to be able to play just about any song on the guitar.
The song is slow and almost mournful and I immediately get lost in the lyrics, in the meaning and the feeling behind it. As I scan the crowd, I’m surprised to see that most everyone has stopped what they are doing to watch me. While it makes me even more nervous, it doesn't pull me out of the moment and I realize very quickly what an incredible feeling it is to be up here.
The rest of the night flies by and before I know it, I’m on my last song of the night. While my mind swirls around the Zayne situation, playing tonight has significantly raised my spirits and I decide to wrap up my set with "Boyz in the Hood" by Dynamite Hack. It's a complete revision of the original hip hop version and done acoustically. It's a lot of fun and I absolutely love playing it.
As the crowd has dwindled down to a whopping two customers, Becca shimmies out from behind the bar and proceeds to clean up, singing along with my every word.
When I finish, Jake ushers out the last two people remaining in the bar as I unhook my guitar from the amp and start packing up my things. I didn't know what to expect tonight and I must say, I’m more than a little surprised by how much I enjoyed myself.
This is not only a way to make a little extra cash, but it’s also a huge outlet for me and even though there is still a dull ache in the pit of my stomach over Zayne, I feel a lot better than I did at the beginning of the night.
“Your set was awesome,” Jake says, making his way over to the edge of the stage. “I loved that you tacked on “Boyz in the Hood” there at the end. I never thought I would hear a girl sing that song, but I gotta admit you totally rocked it.” He laughs.
“I've always loved playing it. Since there wasn't really anyone here, I figured what the hell.”
“Me and Becca are gonna head over to Ferro's to grab a slice. You wanna join us?” he asks, powering down the speaker system.
“They're still open?” I’m a little surprised that a mom and pop pizza place would still be in operation at two in the morning.
“Heck yeah. Best place to go after a night of drinking. Rosie usually keeps it open until about three, after the bar rush dies down.
” He pushes in the bar stools around the bar.
“It sounds good but I really should probably get home.” I sling my guitar case over my shoulder.
“Oh, come on,” Becca whines behind me. I turn to find her in a full on pout with her hands on her hips. “You just played your first set. What better way to celebrate than by eating greasy pizza and laying back a couple cold ones?” She pouts out her bottom lip for effect.
“Fine.” I sigh.
As much as I want to go home and go to bed, I’m in no rush to lay in the darkness and obsess over a certain man for hours. Maybe a couple beers and some good company will take my mind off of things.
I help Becca and Jake finish cleaning up, deciding to leave my guitar at the bar so I don't have to tote it around.
We make the two block walk to Ferro's and I’m shocked to see that the little diner style pizza restaurant is packed full of customers. Becca and I head over to the last available booth, while Jake heads to the counter to order our pizza and drinks.
“How do you guys know her?” I ask, watching Jake embrace the older lady behind the counter. She's short and chubby with shoulder length black hair and a smile that lights up the entire room.
“Rosie?” she questions, nodding toward the counter. “That's Jake's aunt. Her and her husband own this place and Vitos as well. Jake took over running the bar when her husband fell ill. He's fine now,” she adds when she catches the sympathy on my face. “Some type of disease in his spine. He's in a wheelchair now so Rosie runs this place on her own. We help her out sometimes but for the most part she likes to do this solo.” I glance back at Rosie and can't help but smile. You would never guess it by looking at her, but I would say that woman carries the weight of the world on her shoulders and still smiles about it at the end of the day.
I don't ask any more questions as Jake makes his way toward us, juggling a pitcher of beer and three glasses. We end up hanging out at Ferro's well into the morning, eating way too much pizza and drinking even more beer. While everyone else was ushered out at exactly three, Rosie allowed us to stay behind and told Jake to lock up before kissing him on the forehead and heading home.
The conversation between the three of us flows and before I know it, little rays of light are starting to seep through the dark windows of the restaurant. Checking the clock behind the counter, I’m shocked to see that it's almost six-thirty in the morning.
“Holy shit. I gotta go,” I slur out, clearly feeling the effects of way too much beer and much too little sleep. Becca and Jake call it a night as well and after locking up the restaurant, we part ways. I head back to my apartment and they head back to the bar. Apparently, they live in the little apartment on the second floor.
I stumble the entire block back to my house, literally laughing at myself the whole way. I know staying out into the early hours of the morning is not the most responsible thing in the world, but right now I really don't care. I promised myself a life and damn it, I’m determined to have one.
When I finally reach the front of my building, I hesitate, realizing that there is someone sitting on the front steps. But then the person looks up and I swear my stomach ends up somewhere in my feet.
Zayne pushes to his feet when he catches sight of me, and not knowing what else to do, I continue walking. The closer I get, the clearer his face becomes and the more I can see that he is clearly not happy about something.
“Where the fuck have you been?” He doesn't try to hide the anger in his voice and for a moment I falter, completely caught off guard by not only him being here but with his tone.
“Um, hi. What are you doing here?” I ask, cocking my head to the side, completely ignoring his question.
“Maybe if you'd answer your fucking phone you would know that I’ve been trying to get a hold of you for the last five hours.” He runs his hand through his hair in aggravation.
“You have?” I immediately start searching for my phone. When I realize it's not on me, I try to think of where I could have left it. “Shit. I don't know where my phone is.”
“Where have you been, Grace?” he asks again, this time his voice coming out even.
“I had to work and then I went out for pizza and drinks with a couple of friends. Is there a reason you care?” I ask, not trying to hide my own aggravation that is suddenly boiling just below the surface.
“Are you fucking kidding me, Grace? I care because I care about you.” He takes a step toward me. I instinctively take a step back. “Who were you with?”
“Well you have a funny way of showing it,” I say, fishing my keys out of my pocket. “And not that it's any of your business, but I was with Jake and Becca, two people I work with.” I move to step past him.
He reaches out and grabs my arm, spinning me toward him. The motion makes me a little dizzy and I grip his bicep to steady myself. Before I have a chance to react, he snatches the keys from my hand.
“What are you doing?”
“Well, considering I live here, I was going to go inside and go to bed.” I cross my arms in front of my chest. “Now can I have my keys back, please?”
“You're upset with me?” A humorless smile turns up the corners of his mouth. “I've been sitting here for four hours waiting for you and you're upset with me? Fucking unbelievable.” He tosses his hands up in the air.
“Well no one asked you to sit here for four hours.” My voice goes up an octave and I take a deep breath, trying to calm myself. My god this man is infuriating. “Look, I don't know why you're here or what you want, but I'm really tired and I want to go to bed. So please.” I hold out my hand in hopes that he will give me my keys back.
When he doesn't move, I try again. “Zayne, you're not my father and you're not Alec. I won't let you treat me like I owe you any type of explanation for any of my actions. I lost my phone. I'm sorry if I made you worry. And I'm sorry that my feelings are a little hurt by the fact that it's been almost three days since... Well, you know, and I thought you would call sooner. And I'm just...” He dips down and presses his lips to mine, officially cutting off my rant.
I want to push him away and hold onto my anger for a little while longer, but the truth is he really hasn't done anything wrong. I'm just a silly girl who doesn't have a good grasp on her own emotions. All of this is so new to me. My body’s reaction to him is proof of that. In one touch, one kiss, everything shifts.
The anger and hurt fades away, replaced by the burning desire that I feel for this man and how badly I want him. I throw my arms around his neck and pull him closer to my body, loving the way his mouth feels on mine.
When he finally pulls away, we are both breathless, panting for air. He drops his forehead against mine and lets out a light sigh. “Come home with me,” he whispers, placing a kiss to the tip of my nose.
“Okay.” My answer comes immediately, my judgment clearly clouded by the amount of beer swimming in my belly. But right now I don't care. All I want is to be with him, in his bed, in his arms.
I don't care where he takes me as long as he takes me once we get there.
I WAKE WITH A DEEP pounding in my head and immediately roll to the side, my arm colliding with something, or rather someone. My eyes shoot open and my heart does a flip in my chest at the sight of Zayne lying next to me, a large grin across his perfect face.
“I was beginning to think you were going to sleep all day.” He reaches out to brush my hair away from my face.
“What time is it?” I cringe at the dryness in my throat.
“A little after three in the afternoon.” He chuckles softly at the shocked look on my face.
“What!” I sit up too quickly and the entire room spins and my stomach twists in a very unnatural way. I groan, flopping back down on the bed.
Zayne reaches over, pulling me into his chest. “Maybe some water?” He nuzzles his face into my long waves.
“And ibuprofen,” I croak.
“Coming right up.” He pushes himself up off the bed after placing a soft kis
s to my forehead. He makes his way across the room, nothing but black boxer briefs covering his perfect body. I watch the way his back flexes with each step and a deep burning instantly ignites in my lower belly. My god, what this man does to me.
Once the door closes behind him, I slowly push myself into a sitting position. The bedroom is enormous. At least five times the size of my small space. The large bed with a mahogany headboard could probably fit at least five people comfortably and is dressed in gray sheets and the softest black comforter I have ever felt in my life. A long matching dresser sits on the wall adjacent to the bed and a wall of windows sits along the left wall, draped in dark gray, sheer curtains. The walls are painted a light gray and only one thing hangs on the main wall, a painting of a woman.
It's not a photograph, but it's clearly something that someone created based on a real person. I can't help but wonder if Zayne knew this woman. If she meant something to him at some point, or worse, still does. Her face is hidden in the shadows. Her lean torso is spread out across a bed dressed in white, with a deep red fabric draped over her breasts and running in between her legs. It's a beautiful piece, both erotic and sensual.
I slowly pry myself out of bed, realizing that I’m completely naked. Suddenly last night, or rather this morning, comes flooding back to me. Zayne waiting at my apartment, how angry he was with me. I only vaguely remember the drive here and after that things become even foggier.
Based on my lack of clothes and the delicious ache running through my body, it doesn't take a genius to figure out where things went from there. I remember his lips everywhere. On my neck, my chest, the inside of my thighs. Oh god, and even down there. I put my hands over my face to hide my embarrassment, only there's no need. No one is here to witness the seven shades of red that my cheeks must be at the present moment.
I look around the room again and notice a couple articles of my clothing spread out in various places. I find my panties next to the bed and quickly slip them on. My jeans are thrown over the arm of a black leather chair that sits in the far right corner, my bra abandoned on the floor by the door, but I can't seem to locate my shirt anywhere.
The Way Back Page 10
