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“I thought you were hung up on Leo?” I say, pushing my luck as I grab a glass from the cupboard.
I know what Leo’s told me. I guess I just need to hear her clarify it.
She shrugs. “I’m just passing the time until he comes to his senses.”
“What does that mean?” I push on.
“It means, he’s going through so much at the moment and he doesn’t need me giving him grief.”
Though I bite down on a smile, I am confused as to why she’s hanging around, pining for a guy who’s made it clear he doesn’t want her. He won’t come to his senses because he’s already there. He’s a man who knows what he wants, and he never backs down.
“Can you do me a favour?” she asks as I fill the glass with water.
“It depends on what it is you’re after. I thought I made it clear where I stood.”
“It’s nothing you’ll have to involve Rayna with. Can you please just keep an eye on him when he’s home, like, tell me if he has anyone over.”
“Like women?” I don’t even know why I’m asking; she’s already asked this of me.
Why, oh why, am I leading her on? I know exactly who the woman is, and I’ll never tell her.
“Yes,” she hisses out.
“He doesn’t have anyone over. Not in Rayna’s home.”
“Just… please.”
“I don’t see the point, Zara. From what you’ve told me, he’s made it clear where he stands, and let’s not forget, I just walked in on you having sex with one of his brothers.”
She narrows her eyes, and I finally see how ridiculous her thick false lashes look on her. It’s far too much.
“What’s your angle?” she asks.
“I-I don’t have one.”
“Whatever.”
I take Pope’s glass of water back to him, before I truly piss her off, and place it in front of him.
“Thank you.”
He goes back to reading his book and confused, I leave him be. Did he know I’d walk in on Zara and Grim? How can Zara have sex with another guy when she proclaims to only want Leo? Trying to understand people gives me a headache. My phone rings and I don’t hesitate to answer, hoping it’s Leo to say he’s on his way home.
It’s not. It’s my mom.
I freeze halfway back to the house and stare at her name across my screen.
She hasn’t spoken to me in over a year, nor has my father. My first initial thought is to ignore her, but my thumb swipes across the screen, and I press it to my ear.
“Holly? Is that you?”
Her voice hasn’t changed, not that I guess it would have.
“It’s me.”
It’s all I can say.
She sobs down the phone and I struggle to swallow the lump in my throat.
