Awkwardly, I answer to his back as he walks away, “Cool beans.”
Cool beans, cool beans??Oh my fucking God, what the hell is wrong with me?
I smack my forehead in disbelief at how awkward I have become. I feel like my body and mind are betraying me and making me look like a bumbling idiot. This isn’t me—since when do I have a problem talking to anyone?
The image of him leaning on the door invades my mind, and the heat at my core builds up again. It’s been so long since I’ve been with anyone. What he is doing to my mind and body feelslike a new level of crazy. I store the memory of him away for a later time. Right now, though, it’s definitely time for a shower—a cold one, if I’m smart.
After my shower, I pull onmy boy shorts and tank top. As I begin to towel-dry my hair, I hear a soft knock at my door.
“Come in,” I say as I step out of the bathroom.
“Hey, Myssa, pizza is—” but in mid-sentence, he pauses.
I turn towards the door to question what's wrong. But he's just standing there, staring at me.
Still drying my hair, I look at him, confused.
“Everything ok?” I ask.
He swallows hard. “Yeah, I just…I just…wanted to tell you…uh…” but his eyes roam my body.
I watch as he slowly makes his way back up to my eyes. I bite the inside of my cheek to tamper down the wishful thinking that he is feeling the same attraction I have for him.
“That the pizza is here?” I help him, pretending that I’m not phased by his scrutiny.
He shakes his head for a second time. “Uh, yeah, the pizza is here.”
“Ok.” I smile, putting the towel down.
“I, uh, I’ll get the plates and meet you in the kitchen.” He looks down, then back at me before heading back to the kitchen.
Chapter 23
Zayne
Get a grip, man, I say to myself. But fuck, Myssa being dressed in barely anything was way too much. How am I going to do this and keep my hands to myself? I don’t think I can. I stand in the kitchen, leaning over and gripping the counter. She has a vice grip on me. She’s filling this void inside, and her light shines so bright, I can’t help but hold on to every second she gives me. It’s been so fucking long, it feels like decades have passed. It’s been so long since I’ve felt—anything. Not since…
The memory invades my mind.
The chrome shimmering in his irises fades until they snuff out altogether. The screams echo through the walls, and it’s impossible to decipher who is who’s. The searing pain with each squeeze as his eyes turned a shade of dark amber, glowing like the night sky above.
I close my eyes and push away from the counter. I shake my head, forcing the thoughts at bay. I turn to open the cabinet and grab two plates before setting them on the counter.
Myssa
Walking down the stairs, I find Zayne standing at the counter of his kitchen, putting slices of pizza on the plates. Looking out the window, the Chicago buildings are casting shadows throughout the streets as the sun starts setting.
I walk around the other side of the counter to the fridge and see what Zayne has for drinks.
“Do you want a beer or water?” I ask.
“Beer, please.”
I pull one out along with a bottled water and follow him into the living room. He sits on the couch, clearly giving me enough room to join him. I don’t trust myself that close, though, and I have some questions I want to ask him. I move around to the opposite side of the coffee table, grabbing a throw pillow from the couch as I pass it, and I put it on the ground before I sit.
“You can sit on the couch. I don’t bite.” He smirks.
“I prefer to sit here.” I shrug. I mean, it’s not a lie. We never sat on the couch at home. Nik and I would sit on pillows and eat at the coffee table all the time. It was just our thing, and the thought brings back memories.
