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He reaches for me, his fingers wrapping around my hand.
“Very suave,” I say, smiling ruefully. My heartbeat kicks up a notch and those butterflies in my tummy take flight.
Zayn cocks his head to the side and I’m acutely aware of his thumb tracing over my knuckles in such a way that my clit throbs. I need to keep a lid on my reaction to him, because this kind of attention and sincerity is doing stupid things to my libido and stripping me of that common sense and self-preservation that keeps me so level-headed.
“I didn’t bring you here to impress you, Pen. I brought you here because you deserve to be treated like a fucking queen. I want you to eat good food, drink expensive champagne, enjoy the best fucking singers, and dance because you want to, not because you’ve been forced to.”
He winces at that, and I still see the guilt he holds over what happened at Grim’s club. It softens me further towards him. We might’ve bridged the distance between us already, but there’s still a ways to go.
“Thank you,” I reply, locking gazes with him.
Our conversation is interrupted by the waiter who brings me my champagne. I thank him and take a sip, needing the alcohol to settle my nerves. The taste is delicious, and the bubbles fizz on my tongue as I swallow. “Wow, this isn’t like that cheap shit you can buy at the supermarket,” I say.
“Nope, it certainly isn’t cheap at fifty pound a glass.”
“What?!” I hiss, almost spitting out the expensive mouthful. I swallow it down, not wanting to waste it.
Zayn laughs, his whole face lighting up in amusement. “Relax, Pen, I’ve got this covered. Only the best for my girl, remember?”
“You’re insane.”
“Only for you,” he whispers, dragging the pad of his thumb over my bottom lip gently.
He leans in, replacing his thumb with his lips as his hand slides around the back of my head and cups my neck. I open up to him, meeting his tongue with mine. His fingers curl into my hair as he kisses me deeply and I can taste whisky on his tongue. Something about the fiery flavour makes my knees weak just as much as his kiss does. We kiss for long minutes, only to pull away when a gentle cough interrupts us.
“Apologies, Sir. Your food is ready,” the waiter explains. I look up at him and give a weak smile, knowing my cheeks are flushing just as much as his.
“Thank you,” Zayn responds, moving back reluctantly.
For the rest of the evening, we eat, we talk about everyday things and whilst I learn nothing about why Zayn and the Breakers are at the Academy, I get an insight into the man Zayn is today, and I like him.A lot. When Rag‘n’Bone starts to singSkinmy own skin covers in goosebumps. The man is an exceptional singer, his voice melodious, deep, touching.
Zayn stands taking my hand. “Dance with me? Let me do it right this time.”
“It wasn’t wrong, Zayn,” I reply, because what happened in the studio between us might’ve been painful, but it was far from wrong.
“I want to dance with you, Pen. Fuck, there are a lot of things I want from you but right now, right this second, I want to dance with you. Dax is a fool, but I’m not. I want you back and I won’t lie about that to myself or anyone else.”
“What about Jeb?” I whisper. He might’ve loaned me to Grim, but he still owns me. Zayn might not know the full story behind our relationship—if you can call it that—but he’s still playing with fire even being here with me. Jeb doesn’t take kindly to his toys being played with by anyone else.
“Jeb isn’t going to be a problem…” he says with certainty. I frown, not understanding what he means by that. Jeb has always beentheproblem, alongside my brother. “Just don’t think about it tonight, okay? Just dance with me, Pen.Please.”
“Okay,” I agree.
The moment we step onto the dancefloor, Zayn’s arms wrap around my back. He tugs me towards him, a sexy smile pulling up his lips then he lowers his head and kisses me gently.
“Dancing with you is a gift, Pen. Loving you an inevitability,” he whispers against my lips before tucking my head against his chest and moving with me to the sensual beat of the music.
Later that night I fell asleep beneath the covers of my bed thinking about the boy who grew up into a man that’s attentive, warm, respectful. Zayn made no move to seduce me. We returned to the Academy, kissed on the threshold of my flat and then went to our separate beds. Did I want to sleep with him? Yes, of course I did, and I know he wanted it too, but tonight wasn’t about that. Tonight was about starting again. It was about reconnecting. It was about friendship and, ultimately, it was about trust.
