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“How are things?” The way he said it, it could’ve been casual, but I was starting to know Zeke. He wasn’t intending it as polite small talk. He wanted to know.
“No Jarrod, if that’s what you’re asking about.” I started to move away.
He stopped me, putting his hand over mine on the counter. “He’s gone. He left town.”
I left my hand where it was, with his on top. “Should I ask how you know that?”
His hand twitched, but a mask came over his face. “The internet's not that hard anymore. You can find almost anything on it.”
Was that it? Just the usual cyberstalking? But he was doing it for me, on my behalf, and it’d been the second time he helped me out. I was remembering back to when I’d been at his house, when he’d fed me, when he took me to mine. When he was gone the next morning and how the next time I spoke to him was at a grocery store and he helped me yet again.
I didn’t know what he wanted right now, if he even wanted anything.
“I know.” I turned my hand around and started to link our fingers. “Maybe we can talk about it later?”
Just then, a presence interrupted us. A female slid onto the stool next to Zeke’s and she did it with zest. It was an abrupt and almost coarse sensation, cutting into our moment. “Talk about what later?”
I stepped back, physically and emotionally pulling away. My hand felt like it’d been burned. I tucked it behind me.
Kit Carlson. She went to school with Zeke. She was in his social group, and she was watching me as she was taking off her jacket with narrowed eyes.
“What’s going on?” She indicated me with a slight head nod. “Ava, right?”
I nodded. I didn’t speak. That’d always been my role back in the day, and I was easily stepping back into it. Kit came around, but not that often. After college, she remained local, but I knew she married some big CEO-type of guy. I wasn’t surprised.
She frowned. “Zeke?”
He was half-turned away, but at her last question, his shoulders drew up, and as they fell, the old Zeke shield was back in place.
He looked back, a half-smirk/half-grin was in place. His eyes lit up, looking mischievous but also dark at the same time, and he nudged her shoulder with his. “Nothing, Carlson. Or am I supposed to be calling you Hughes now?”
She snorted, easing back, and the narrowed eyes relaxed. “You can save that name for a different kind of hang out.” Her smile was sly and seductive, and my stomach turned over.
They were sleeping together.
Or they had.
And she was married.
“What would you like to drink?” My voice came out clipped.
Zeke stilled.
She didn’t. She threw her hair back and extended her hand, her nails freshly manicured and sparkling pink. “A rosé, and don’t let the glass get empty.”
Right. It would be one of those nights.
I poured her drink and remained at the opposite end of the bar for the rest of the night, giving Derek her instructions. I felt Zeke’s gaze on me, but I heard her laugh, so I knew she was loving Derek’s attention. He was a flirt. Wealthy socialites like her were his forte.
I tried not to focus on them, her with Zeke. I did. I really tried, but a few times I glimpsed over and saw how her hand was on Zeke’s arm, or his leg, or how their shoulders were touching each other. She rested her head on his arm at one point, half-draped all over him.
My stomach kept churning until I couldn’t handle it anymore, and why I was so pissed—I didn’t know.
Whatever.
Zeke always slept around. He’d had a shitty reputation back then, and why would that change now? Even if he’d been kind to me a few times?
Who was I really? Nothing.
