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Lucky us.
It’s another minute or two before Zane loosens his hold on me. I grab the last nacho and eat it.
“What was that?” I ask him after swallowing.
He shrugs. “Wishful thinking?”
I snicker. “Wishful thinking or you using me as a shield?”
“Both.”
I laugh while shaking my head.
He’s quiet for a beat while he watches me drink my IPA. “Maybe I want it to be true.”
I arch my eyebrows. “The single playboy wants to be tied down to a PA from the city? That can’t be true …”
“What if it is?”
I smile. “It could’ve been. You had me in the palm of your hand.”
“Until I lost you,” he murmurs, tipping his glass back until the amber liquid disappears down his throat. His Adam’s apple bobs with the motion.
I hold myself back when I have the sudden urge to run my fingers through the scruff on his jaw.
“I think you wanted to lose me.”
A yell and some laughter erupt across the room. A moment later, a Britney Spears song starts up.
“Wow,” I comment when one of the women starts to sing off-key.
Her voice is magnified by a microphone that squeals once or twice before it’s adjusted.
Zane ignores the rest of the room and keeps his eyes on me. My cheeks heat from his attention.
“I was an idiot. I made a mistake.”
My smile flattens as I take in his serious expression.
“I want another chance,” he continues.
I glance over Zane’s shoulder as the woman onstage is joined by another. They’re both yelling more than singing as they grind on one another. They seem to be enjoying the attention they’re getting from all the men in the room. All the men except the one sitting next to me.
“They might not be able to carry a tune,” I comment, “but in their defense, they’re giving it one hundred percent effort.”
“Give me another chance,” Zane says, undeterred, unwilling to shift the conversation. “Let me do things right this time.”
“Should we go back to that first night when you weren’t sure if you liked me yet?” I ask. I’m attempting to make light of the situation, but there’s a vulnerability to my words, lying right beneath the surface.
He shakes his head slowly. “Nope. I lied to you that night. I knew I liked you from the beginning. Let’s start from where we are … right here and right now.”
“I want to …” I admit.
“But?” he questions.
“But… you really hurt me.”
His palm lands on my knee. I can feel the warmth of his skin through my thin scrubs.
