Page 66 of Treacherous


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“I’m sorry.” I say, sitting up before throwing my legs over the side of the bed and snagging my phone off the nightstand.

“It’s okay. I should probably get going anyway,” he says as he rolls off the bed.

“Why?” I silence the ringer on my phone, deciding that my mom can wait a minute.

“I have to watch Danielle tonight, and I promised her pizza from Perogi’s. If I want to get there before my dad has to leave, I’ve got to hit the road.”

“Oh, okay.” He slides on his shoes before he crosses to the other side of the bed where I’m sitting.

“Hey.” He tips my chin upward at the same time he leans down, putting our faces a couple of inches apart. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, of course.” I try to shake off the disappointment of his abrupt departure.

“I see the wheels turning in that pretty head of yours.” A knowing smile graces his full lips. “Today was incredible.” He presses a kiss to my mouth. “Better than incredible.” Another kiss. “And I can’t fucking wait to do it again.” When he pulls back and hits me with a sexy smirk, I instantly feel better.

“Me, too,” I admit on a shy smile.

“Call me later?”

“I will,” I agree, my phone buzzing back to life in my hand as my mom starts calling again.

“I see you weren’t lying.” He chuckles, straightening his posture as he gestures to my phone.

“She’s relentless. I think she forgets that I’m not sitting around with my phone in my hand, ready to answer the instant she calls.” I look down at the phone in my hand and realize I’m doing exactly that. “Well, you know what I mean.” I laugh at myself.

“Answer it,” he tells me, snagging his jacket off the end of the bed. “I’ll talk to you later.”

“Okay.”

Zayden crosses the room and unlocks the door, disappearing into the hallway moments later.

It takes me a couple seconds to realize my phone is still ringing, and once I do, I quickly answer it.

“Hey, Mom.” I try to sound as normal as I can given everything that just happened.

“Hey, sweetie. What are you doing?”

“Homework.” It’s only half of a lie. Technically, I was doing homework a few short minutes ago. If you can classify watching a movie I’ve already seen dozens of times as homework.

“Are you about done? Paul just called me from the office and wants you and Oliver to meet us for dinner.”

“I wish I could, Mom, but I really have a lot to get done.” A complete lie this time. Truthfully, I don’t feel like going anywhere right now. “Maybe next time?”

“Are you sure? I feel like I’ve barely seen you all week.”

Leave it to my mom to throw in a little guilt in hopes of swaying me to do what she wants me to do.

“I’m sure. I really would if I could. Maybe we can make plans to have lunch this weekend—just you and me.”

“I’d like that.”

I let out a sigh of relief, knowing I’ve pacified her for now.

“So, Oliver is meeting you guys?” I ask, simply because I want to know if I should be prepared to run into him this evening. I’ve gotten really good at only leaving my room when absolutely necessary if I know he’s home or will be home in the near future.

“I’m not sure yet. Paul was going to call him.”

“Okay.”

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