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CHAPTER 25
ZOE
I’m mortified.
I can’t even express how embarrassed I am right now. My cheeks feel like they’re on fire. There's absolutely no chance in hell I'm going back out there with those two hooligans lounging on the couch.
“A little heads up would have been nice!”
“I wasn’t aware you would be performing a striptease while twerking over to the kitchen. What the fuck, Zo?”
My brother leans in, towering above me, somehow more pissed than I am.
The audacity of this guy.
“You’re never here, and I had my headphones on. I’ve been cleaning and listening to music for hours in my room. How was I supposed to know tonight would be the night you’d actually be home?”
Aaron’s brows furrow before he takes a deep breath and steps back.
“You’re right. I’ve been too focused on work.”
I can see the guilt written all over his face, and all I want to do is reach out, give him a hug, and reassure him that everything is all right. I understand that his career is his top priority, and I truly respect that. But it does feel like he’s been avoiding me lately. I haven’t brought it up because I don’t want to come across as needy or make him feel guilty about it. It’s not his fault that I lost my job and had to move to New York, basically crashing into his life, his home, and his daily routine.
Dropping my head, I glance at the perfect display of snacks in glass jars and containers sitting in his utterly neat walk-in pantry. This room is bigger than my entire bedroom in my shitty apartment back in Boston.
“This is your home, and I should have been more cautious. Sorry, Aaron.”
His hands land softly on my shoulders. “Hey, this is your home too. Don’t talk like that. I just don’t—” His pause has me looking up, noting the hesitation on his face. “I don’t like the guys seeing you like that.”
“Like what?”
He glances down at my body, cringing.
“Not this again, Aaron.”
“Not up for discussion, Zo. Now grab what you need and go back to your room. Put some clothes on.”
Wow.
I shove past him, deciding to leave before I blurt out something entirely too harsh after I just apologized to him.
“I’m sorry. We’re just dealing with something sensitive out there.”
“Whatever.”
A small, crunchy bag is shoved against my hand just as I’m walking out the pantry.
“Here, these are just like chips.”
Glancing down at the bag, the word Kale stands out immediately. I’m two seconds away from strangling my brother.
“What a shitty peace offering.”
He looks genuinely confused.
“They’re good.”
“You may have the palate of a sheep, but there is no way in hell I’m eating those.” I shove back the bag and walk out, ignoring the nosy lurkers in the other room.
