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He pulled back, something flashing in his eyes before he turned away. “Get dressed. My mom made breakfast.”
“Uh…” My cheeks burned. “Isn’t that weird? I mean…”
“Not weird at all. She always makes breakfast.”
“I mean—”
“I know what you mean, Luna.” Zach picked my clothes up off the floor and handed them to me. “Trust me, it’s not weird.”
“Have you had other women over?” I couldn’t help the jealousy running through me that he had shared his bed with someone else.
“No, Luna.” Zach chuckled.
“What’s so funny?” I demanded.
“You’re jealous.”
“I am not.”
“Yes, you are.” His laugh deepened. “I told you I haven’t been with a woman in over a year.”
“Alright.” I sighed. “I’m jealous. I can’t help it.”
Zach leaned over me and kissed me softly on the mouth. “Any woman I fucked before you, was either at their place or a hotel. So I’ve never even shared this bed with anyone else but you. And no woman has ever been over to my apartment in the city. Does that make you feel better?”
I breathed out a sigh of relief. “Yeah. It does.” I cupped his face. “Does it make you feel better knowing you’re the only man who’s ever been inside me?”
“Fuck.” He shivered. “You can’t ask me shit like that when I can’t do anything about it.” He pulled away. “Get dressed.”
I giggled.
Zach shook his head. “Women.”
“Do you think your parents know I’m here?” I asked, sliding off the bed and quickly getting dressed.
A soft knock sounded on the door. “Your mom made breakfast,” Coby called from the other side of the door. “And tell Luna, she’s welcome to join us.”
My eyes widened. “How…”
Zach only shrugged, a hint of amusement flashing in his eyes.
“How does he know that I’m here?” I asked Zach as we headed to the door.
Zach opened it and I stepped out into the hall, finding Coby leaning against the wall.
“I heard you both talking,” Coby said. “That’s how I knew you were here.” His eyes flicked to Zach. “Luna, will you excuse us a moment?”
I looked between the both of them and nodded. “I’ll see if your mom needs any help.”
***
(Zach)
“You’re going to lecture me, aren’t you?” I asked my dad, leaning against the wall across from him and mirroring his pose.
“Nope.” He crossed his arms under his broad chest, staring pointedly at me.
“Are you going to tell me that I’m making a mistake? That I should have ended things before they even began? That I should have kicked her out before you woke up so we wouldn’t be having this conversation?”
