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I am, oddly enough, okay with it.
“I should have protected her.
“The police want you to meet her to see if it jogs her memory.” Zayn tells me.
I flinch inwardly. “Is that a good idea? If she’s not ready to deal with it…”
“If she got a good look at her attacker, the police can track him down, and both of you can feel safe.”
The words are flimsy, holding no meaning, and I know it.
His hand reaches out and curls around mine that lays in my lap. He picks up my hand and brings it to his mouth, pressing a soft kiss to my knuckles, his eyes still on the road.
A lump grows in my throat at the affectionate gesture that one would expect from a lover.
“My face was on the news tonight,” I say, lightly, trying not to show the concern budding inside of me that my livelihood is seconds from being ripped from my hands. “Well, part of it. I don’t think I’ll be able to open the studio yet.”
Zayn doesn’t say anything, and I continue. “I’m thinking of talking to Elijah. A relocation might be in order. The lease on this place hasn’t been renewed yet so it won’t be the worst idea. Also, maybe a new face. I could hire somebody to—”
“Why don’t you go back to law school?” Zayn says abruptly, glancing at me when we stop at a red light.
Startled at that, I don’t meet his gaze. “It’s too late now. I’ve got Mila and the business.”
“I’ve got Mila, too, Eve. I can support both of you. God knows I have enough money and more.” He sounds agitated, and I raise my brows.
“Going through school again is too much of a hassle, Zayn. But I don’t need you to put me through school. First, if I want to go to law school, I can do it on my own, and second, I’ve got too much other shit going on. Mila needs my attention. You just entered her life. There is so much you don’t know about her yet, or about parenting. It’s a two person job.”
“You did just fine,” he eyes me, and I try to find the complement buried under the scowl.
Crossing my arms over my chest, I opt to stare out the window. “Yes, well. I had help.”
The hospital is just around the corner, and Zayn’s eyes widen with annoyance at seeing the news vans outside the entrance. “What. The. Fuck.”
His growl vibrates through the car as he parks it at a distance. The reporters not having notice us yet.
“They must have figured out that Lorraine is being held here,” I mutter, uneasily, gripping the bottom edge of my seat. “This isn’t good. Maybe we should come back another time.”
After a few moments of silence, he turns to me. “Do you trust me?”
I blink at the question. “Well, uh, depends on the moment.”
He cracks a grin at that before his expression grows serious. “Well, do you trust me at this moment?”
I sigh, rolling up my sleeves. “Whatever it is you’re about to do, I know I’m not going to like it, but I’ll go along with it.”
The grin on his face is broad, and he reaches over and presses his lips against mine in a kiss that is mint and freshness, and that steals my breath, making the color rise to my cheeks.
His tongue presses against my lips, not asking for entrance, demanding it, and with a helpless moan, I part my lips.
He licks into my mouth, the action sending heat straight to my groin, and I whimper. When he pulls away, a satisfied look on his face, his eyes dark with desire, I try to gather my wits and then reach out to smack him in the arm.
“Ow,” he winces, more for show than for actual pain.
“Stop kissing me every chance you get.” My voice lacks bite.
Rubbing the spot which I know hasn’t even bothered him, he bares his teeth at me, eyes moving to my lips. “Then stop looking so damn kissable.”
It is my turn to wince now. “You can be so fucking corny at times.”
