“About, uh, seven days?” he says, like it's a question even he doesn't know the answer to.
“And … you were a nanny back in Vegas then?” There's a long pause where Zayden reaches down to scratch at his belly, eyes focused wholly on the road. Before he answers, he reaches over to the radio and turns up some stupid chart-topping pop song.
“Not exactly,” he says with a slight crinkle of his eyebrow. It makes his piercing dance and sparkle in the sun, but I'm not paying attention to that. Nope. Not looking at the full, ripe shape of his lips, the way his tattoos emphasize the muscular lines of his throat.
“If you weren't a nanny back in Vegas, then what did you do?” Zay lifts up a finger and points at his nose ring.
“Body piercer Zayden Roth at your disposal,” he says, flashing me a giant smile as I feel my heartbeat pick up speed. This time, though, it's from irritation.
“Body piercer?” I ask, thinking that particular title suits him a hell of a lot better than nanny. Then again, he seems so good with the kids. It was one of the reasons I took a leap of faith in the first place. “Zayden, a body piercer is not the same thing as a nanny. Why did you tell me you were one? To try and win my trust?” I feel like getting pissed now, shoving up the sleeves of my black button-up as I turn in my seat and put my legs in the space between us.
“What? No. No. Hell, I was just fucking around with you, but as soon as I said the word nanny, you jumped ship on me and got all cute and doe eyed.”
“Doe eyed? I do not get doe eyed. And how are you acting like this is my fault? If you weren't really a nanny, you should've told me that in the first place.” I sit back and lean against the window, trying not to hyperventilate. It hits me suddenly, looking at this guy, that I just lost my virginity to him. And I don't even know who he is. Like, at all. “Why … why would you lie about that?”
“It was a joke,” Zayden emphasizes as he takes us past the park and turns left toward town. “My brother called and begged my ass to come up here and take care of his kids.”
“So, you have other experience caring for children then? Babysitting friends' kids? Taking care of younger siblings? Oh my God, do you have your own kids?”
“Um, no, no, no, and definitely not. I'm sort of playing it by ear here. It's not nearly as hard as everyone makes it look.” Zayden lifts up his phone; it's covered in some brightly colored skin with a Japanese anime girl on the back of it. I pinch my lips tight. “When you've got a smartphone, what can't you do? I ask and it tells. Easy as pie.”
“I think children are a little more nuanced than Google can get across, Zayden.” I'd wonder if that was his real name if I hadn't actually asked to see his driver's license when I first 'hired' him. “You let me believe you were qualified to handle this. I've been leaving you with six children. Six. I've been trusting you with my nieces.”
“Duh, yeah. And you know what? That's one of the reasons I decided to do this in the first place. You picked me up at a park, Brooke. For all you know, I could be some sort of crazy person. If you were willing to hire me on the spot, I didn't know what else you'd do. Not all guys are as easygoing as I am.”
“Is that why you took my virginity then?” I snap, feeling my skin get itchy and hot with irritation. “Because I might make a stupid, na?ve decision and give it to the wrong person?” I pause and wrinkle my forehead. “Is this a boy band playlist or something?”
“Like you don't enjoy old school Backstreet Boys or *NSYNC.”
“I'm almost a decade younger than you. I didn't listen to either of them.”
“Weeeell, then maybe that's your problem?”
“My problem is that I don't listen to boy bands?”
“Your problem is that you're too judgmental, but also not judgmental enough.”
I scoff at him and turn the stereo off with the palm of my hand.
“You don't know me at all, Zayden Roth.”
“I'm intuitive,” he says, pointing at his temple with the finger that has the letter E tattooed on it. He pretends to pull a trigger and makes a boom sound. I've never met anyone in my life with such over the top gestures. I'm not sure what to even make of them. “I can sense your pain. You're damaged but also sweet, like you still want to believe the world has some good in it. That's why I decided to help you out. The last thing I'd want to see is someone like you get hurt. This planet's shitty enough as it is without watching another person get swept under the rug of shit.”
“I can take care of myself,” I snap as I sit up straight. “I don't need you looking out for me. And I sure as hell don't need a body piercer—” at least his shirt makes some semblance of sense now “—pretending he knows how to take care of my girls. Take me home and get your stuff. Go back to wherever it is you came from.”
Zayden laughs and shakes his head, running his hand across the shaved side of his head.