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“It’s only a matter of time before we’re actual friends. I say we skip ahead to the already friends part and you tell me what’s got you down?”
She pauses for a moment, as if considering my words, then cocks her head. “It’s Zeb, right?”
“That’s my name.” I thrust out my hand, offering to shake hers.
She takes a look at my hand but draws back. An odd reaction, but I don’t put much into it.
“You don’t like my name?” I pretend to be shocked, surprised, and a little offended.
I take my hand back like it’s no big deal. My acting skills suck, so I don’t really know how well I pull it off. Probably like a load of bricks, but the faintest smile curls at the corner of her rosebud lips.
“It’s unusual.”
“What’s unusual?”
“Your name.” She looks at me like I’m an idiot, but I’m keeping things light on purpose.
“It’s short for Zebediah.”
“A biblical name?” The way her brows scrunch is delightful.
“Cult, actually.” I don’t usually get to the whole child-of-a-cult thing until after sex, but here we are.
“You’re in a cult?”
“My parents were.”
“Your parents were in a cult?”
“Technically, my mother was in the cult. My father was the asshole who ran it.”
“Wait. What?” Her hand lifts and her fingers settle lightly on my arm—like she’s comforting me. “There’s a story behind that.”
“There is, and it’s a doozy, but it’s only the kind of story friends would share. Do you want to hear it?”
“Of course I do.” Her eyes light with interest.
I don’t blame her. It’s the same reaction everyone has when I tell them about my very unusual upbringing. I leave out the darker parts. People aren’t interested in the kind of shit that only brings you down. We all have secrets, and that’s one I like to keep in the way-down-deep part of my past no one gets to see. Best not to dig up that crap.
“Well then, that means we’re friends, and if we’re friends, how about you tell me what made you run inside and hide?”
“Hide?” Her brows tug together in confusion. “I didn’t hide.”
“Well, one moment everything was good.” Very good from my standpoint. Can’t deny that spark of attraction, or the rush of heat that followed. Also can’t ignore the way that blaze suddenly went out. “Then everything changed.”
“How did you…” Her eyes widen. Not in alarm, but rather with a bit of awe.
“One of my strengths is reading people.” I get that from my pathetic excuse of a father. Evidently, reading people is a necessary job requirement for Cult Leader. That and being a master manipulator.
“I didn’t think it was that obvious.” Her shoulders hunch and she curls in on herself, tugging her knees tight to her chest.
Should I tell her why? That it’s only because of the power of attraction pulling us together that I notice at all? Probably too early for that.
I’ll wait.
“So what’s it going to be?” I nudge her with my shoulder again. This time, I prolong the duration our bodies touch, leaning in rather than bumping and pulling back.
I like the way she feels. Love the way she smells. I breathe in a deep lungful of her delicate perfume and wonder what she’ll feel like wrapped around me.
