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‘Clothes means I can get this on you right now.’
‘I couldn’t have worn it naked?’
‘Now there’s a thought.’ I bat my eyelids and he laughs, a low growl, as he pulls me towards him and kisses my lips. I surrender to the kiss, my body flooding with happy endorphins and adrenalin, desire energising me at the same time it relaxes me.
‘I want to talk to you about something.’
‘Oh?’ I pout. ‘It can’t wait?’
He grins. ‘It has waited. It won’t take long.’ He links his fingers through mine, directing me into the kitchen. He pours two glasses of white wine and removes a tray from the fridge. There’s a block of cheese, some crackers, a dip and carrot sticks.
‘No strawberries?’ I murmur teasingly.
He meets my eyes and heat sparks between us like a live volt of electricity. I feel it hum through my entire body.
‘Strawberries are reserved for special occasions. Like when you’re naked.’
‘So if I strip down I’d get some?’
‘Would you like some?’
I reach for the bottom of my shirt and lift it over my head. He watches, his expression assessing, and then he laughs, shaking his head as he turns and walks back to the fridge, pulling out a container of fruit. He picks one from the bowl, and carries it towards me, placing it to my lips. I hold his gaze as I open my mouth and take a bite. A little juice runs down my chin. He catches it with his thumb then lifts it to his lips, tasting it.
My stomach flips.
‘That’s just made it about a thousand times harder to concentrate,’ he says with a grimace.
‘Do you need to concentrate?’
He groans. ‘You’re incorrigible.’
‘Because I want to fuck my fuck buddy?’
His expression is serious. He steps back, putting the kitchen bench between us, gesturing towards the wine. I panic.
‘Oh, God.’ He’s going to say he wants more from me. That no-strings sex isn’t enough. I stare at him, trying to work out how to defuse that, how to not let him become another Patrick, but I have no idea what to say. Words won’t come to me. I just know that if I hurt Zach in some way I will never recover. I can’t hurt him. I’m not my dad.
‘What?’ His expression shows concern.
I have to say something, to explain my reaction. ‘It’s just—I thought you might be—wanting to change the parameters of our relationship.’
He nods. ‘In a sense, I do.’ I grip the stem of the wine glass tightly, my insides vibrating and quivering in response. I can’t work out what I’m feeling but given my opinion on relationships, it must be fear, right?
‘I’m not—’
I’m not, what? Why can’t I say it? I stare at him and the objection won’t come.
‘I’ve been thinking about your business.’
Something whooshes through me. Relief?
‘Oh?’
‘I’d heard of it before I met you. I was mildly interested in the proposition, or in attempting to recreate what you’re doing. But having met you, and looking into it further, I realise there’s no sense in that. So I want to come on board.’
I stare at him, my mind scrambling to make sense of his statement. ‘You want to invest in She-Shakes?’
He nods. ‘Yes.’
