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Abby had just broken things off with that prick she’d been engaged to. She was upset and feeling a little lost, needed to do something crazy. He could understand that, he thought. And while he was completely on board with her learning to live a little, the idea of her having a fucking affair with some guy who wouldn’t give a damn about her made him want to chew glass and break things. Lots of things.
Still, that journal was her personal property and he hadn’t had any right to go rooting through it. He hadn’t expected to find anything like that and how could he explain that he’d read it? He couldn’t lie to her. But did he tell her that she needed to think this through?
Damn it.
Following the sound of her voice, he stopped in the doorway and made himself close his eyes while she finished placing the order.
Breathe, man. Gotta breathe. Gotta think. Gotta be calm.
First he had to explain just how he’d managed to see it in the journal. He hadn’t exactly been prying...well, he had, but he was her best friend and he was nosy, and she knew that, and . . .
Feeling the weight of her gaze, he lifted his lashes, not looking directly at her. Not yet.
But Abby wasn’t looking at his face.
She was eyeing his arms. Catching her lower lip between her teeth, she tugged on the soft curve and he almost went to his knees at the sight. A second later, she glanced away, but then she looked back.
The thunder that had been crashing inside his head grew louder and louder.
Have a torrid affair.
Damn it, if she was dead set on that idea, she could have an affair with him, he decided.
Even as the idea slammed into him, he tried to brush it aside. He’d kept what he felt wrapped up and buried deep for years. Spilling it now?
Just wondering if you’re ever going to do anything about it.
It’s complicated . . .
Hell. He was lecturing Abby about living life and letting go, and here he was, afraid to grab on.
The woman he wanted like he wanted his next breath was standing right there and he was afraid to even make a move.
She turned away as he stood there, still wrestling with the very thought of it, need burning in him and twisting him into tight, hungry knots. Damn it. Damn it. He needed to do this—
“It will take about an hour or so,” Abby said.
I’m thinking longer—
“They’re pretty busy.”
“What?” Distracted, he dragged his eyes away from the curve of her ass and focused on what she was saying.
“The pizza place. They said it would be about an hour or so—asked if they should come around to the back and I told them yes.”
“That’s fine.” He dragged a hand down his face. “Ah...I need to get back to work.”
“I was thinking about going to grab some wine or something.”
Good idea. Wait. “You can’t.” He turned around and headed back into the main area of the shop, found the consent forms he needed. Abby was behind him, although he hadn’t heard her. When he turned around, she was just a foot away and the scent of her went straight to his head and Zach had to wonder just what in the hell he’d done to get this kind of torture thrown into his life.
“I can’t go get wine?” A smile curved her lips as she tipped her head to look up at him.
“I can’t do the tattoo if you do—I won’t put one on anybody who has been drinking. Saves me trouble later on. And you need to read through the consent form and sign. Make it all nice and legal.”
“Ahhh . . .” She took the paper and moved over to one of the seats, crossing her legs as she started to read. “I guess I should be totally clearheaded. Otherwise, I could end up having arms like yours.”
“Nah. I might try to talk you into having Forever Nate’s tattooed on your ass, but that’s it.” He gave her a strained smile and turned around. Distance. Serious distance was needed here so he could get back on track.
