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A pretty young waitress takes a long, appraising look at Zak and then leads us to a booth. She tosses two menus on the table, but Zak points to the back corner.
“Can we go to that booth instead?”
He interrupts her licking her lips while checking out his dick, and a deep red flush colors her cheeks. She forces a smile. “Sure, go ahead.”
Once we’re seated, Zak pushes the menus toward her. “Coffee for me and orange juice and chocolate chip pancakes for her with a side of well-done turkey bacon. And bring lots of syrup. Strawberry flavored.”
The waitress jots it all down and runs off. I just look at him, my jaw nearly hitting the table.
He jabs some things onto his phone screen and looks up at me. “What? You didn’t think I remembered?”
I shake my head, still flabbergasted that he remembered every last detail after all this time. “I didn’t think you cared enough to.”
His lips pull into a tight line. “It’s just breakfast.”
But it’s not. Not to me.
I shift in my seat, peeling the backs of my sweaty thighs off the cracked green vinyl. “Why did you agree to meet my father? What if it’s a setup?”
“You think I didn’t already consider that?”
“I don’t know.” Frustration laces my words. “It’s not like you’ve been so open about your thoughts, other than the fact that you hate him, Kylian, and the Van Dynes.”
“And for good reason.” He flicks a piece of Formica hanging off the edge of the table, avoiding my eyes. “Besides, I know we’re safe. I sent Nik a text. He’s got guys outside, just in case your father does something stupid.”
“You and your vendettas. Too bad I didn’t find out sooner that I was just a fucking chess piece in your game. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that you’re keeping all the details from me again.”
He raises his gaze from the table, latching on to my angry one.
I lean toward him. “You really have nothing to say about the fact that you led me on for weeks, pretending to be someone you most definitely are not, all because you had a grand plan to take down my father?”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t I?” My lower lip quivers with contempt, rage seeping out of my pores. “You think I didn’t hear you on the phone with Val before my dad called? You think I didn’t connect the dots? After so much time passed, you show up right before my wedding to Tyson and snatch me before it can happen. I’m supposed to believe that’s a coincidence? You’re a fucking liar. You always were. And you’re using me now just like you used me four years ago. Just like Val wanted you to. You didn’t think I knew that?”
His eyes blaze with ire. “Don’t fucking bring up Val.”
“Why not? Is she not an approved conversation topic? How the two of you fucking duped me to get close to my father? And how you’re pulling the same fucking game again?”
“Val had nothing to do with me taking you yesterday.” His voice drops to a scornful growl. “And don’t tell me you were sad about it, either. You were staring into an empty, hellish future as Tyson’s wife. I fucking saved you.”
“Saved my ass. A future with you? I’d rather stare down the barrel of a loaded gun.”
I clench my fist under the table, blood coursing between my temples.
“That can be arranged.” He glowers at me, and despite everything I know, everything I’ve experienced, my thighs quiver. I lock my knees together, urging my body to please get on the same page as my head. But my conflict-riddled heart plants herself in between both, rooted in obsession that has plagued me for years.
It should be hatred and disgust, but somehow, lust trumps it all.
Lust and love.
Because even though those flames died down to flickering embers, they raged the second I saw him the other night at The Surf Club.
A bell jingles and my gut sinks into my flip-flops.
He’s here.
I can’t see him, but I can feel him walk toward our booth. A familiar scent wafts under my nose, his favorite aftershave. Ever since I was a little girl, that fresh, clean scent always comforted me. I missed it so much when Dad would go away on business trips. And I’d know when he was back home the second I’d walk into our house.
