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“It is. But why are you changing the subject?” he asks, and I glare at the water drop on his chest, wanting to lean forward and suck it off him.
“I don’t know,” I say breathily.
“Okay. Well, I could help you out, with… whatever you need.” He leans in, his mouth close to mine, his gaze rakes down my body. “Whenever you need it.”
“Mhm,” I squeak out.
There it is. An offer that, ten seconds ago, I was convinced I’d jump on. But now that’s it’s out in the open, sitting between us, I can’t bring myself to move. The overwhelming flood of sensations in my body is too much to keep hold of. My mouth, limbs, and thoughts can’t keep up.
“But I’m going to need you to ask for it. I’m sorry I kissed you earlier. I don’t want to make things more difficult for you. And I’m not going to be one of those guys who pretends to get what you want or need. Just because you want to fuck doesn’t mean you want to fuck me.”
Yes, it does. It absolutely and cosmically does mean that.
I still can’t speak. Where is the take-charge Nova that showed up the first time I met him? I could use her spirit right now.
“I want you to be aware,” he continues, “that I give my express permission for you to touch me at any time for any reason.” He is sex on a fucking stick, this man—the way he watches me with heavy eyes and chews on his smile like he’s thoroughly enjoying torturing me.
My hands gather their courage, and I press my fingertips to his stomach, trailing down until they reach the towel tucked around his hips. He is shaped like a god, smells like a forest, and sounds like a dream. I bite my lip and inch to the fold in the towel where, with a tiny movement, I’d have him naked in front of me.
A loud knock shatters the moment, and Zeke jumps back as Tabby walks in with a handful of avocados.
“Did you know that your baby is the size of an avocado right now?” she asks, then halts suddenly, her eyes darting from Zeke to me. “Oh, God. I’m sorry. Did I walk in on something?”
She points between us with a cringey look on her face.
“No, you’re fine,” I say quickly. Too quickly for it to be convincing.
Zeke tips his chin to the ceiling with a long, growling breath, then disappears into his room, closing the door with a thud that makes me jump.
Tabby spins a funny expression behind her large glasses. “Ha, I don’t believe you. Honestly, I assumed you’d be shacked up together by now.”
“We are shacked up together.”
She laughs and sets the avocados on the island. “No, I mean liketogethertogether.”
She wiggles her eyebrows, and I clear my throat. “Things are still super unclear,” I say. “We don’t need to complicate it further.”
“But isn’t it more complicated to deny what is so obviously there?” She pauses at the cupboard, already busying herself with whatever these avocados are for. “Believe me, my brother Xan and his kid’s mom tried that whole stay-away-from-each-other-for-the-sake-of-the-child thing. All it did was make everyone miserable—especially us, who had to deal with his shit moods all the time.”
Tabby opens four drawers before she finds what she’s looking for and I’m still standing at the counter, stunned stupid by Zeke’s body.
“Zeke’s shit moods are more difficult to deal with than Xan’s. So, if you want my brother, do us all a favour and claim that shit. Then we don’t have to deal with his moping.” She waves a knife at me with a dramatic roll of her eyes.
“Is he moping?” I ask, stunned by her candidness. These people are uncomfortably close. I couldn’t imagine my sister telling a guy to claim me. The idea makes me squirm in awkward discomfort.
“He’s snappy. I brought him lunch the other day, which I do all the time, and he got mad at me.” She makes a scrunched-up face and lowers her voice. “LikeI am perfectly capable of getting my own lunch, Tabitha. For the record, he’s not. If he’s responsible for feeding himself, he’d survive on beer and fries from Patty’s.”
“What does that have to do with me?” I ask.
“He’s trying to act like a grownup.” Tabby leans in closer. “He’s trying to be worthy of you. Del told me he thinks you don’t trust him, and he really wants you to. Honestly, he’s barely mentioned the baby and keeps everything focused on you, which tells me he’s freaking out.”
I bite on my lip and gaze at his door. I haven’t gotten that sense from him at all. But then, I realize it’s all been about me. He’s always focused on what I need, want, and do. We rarely talk about him. The biting realization makes me feel selfish.
“Anyway, I’ll let you ponder that on your own. I brought you these avocados. They are perfectly ripe. And I smell chilli, which would pair amazingly with a garlic avocado toast.”
I let out a sigh of relief at the change of subject and the complicated things I will have to think about after this. Zeke’s feelings. My feelings. Meeting his brothers. The fact that his mother refuses to acknowledge my existence. Managing and navigating the overwhelming honesty of his sisters.
I grew up in a house of secrets and privacy. We learned from a young age that we were expected to appear a certain way in the public eye. It eventually spilled over into private life, too—until my dad’s affair went public and my parents became raging hypocrites by publicly feuding over me.
