“Don't you have to stop by your brother's place?” I ask as I move around the couch and grab the baby monitor off the coffee table. “I'll be asleep when you get back, so maybe you should stay on the couch?”
“Brooke,” Zayden starts, but I'm already on my way up the stairs. When I hear him following me, I sprint faster, trying to lock myself into the bedroom before he can get there. He puts his boot in the way of the door anyway and pushes his way in.
Damn.
I was really only prepared for one dramatic exit.
“Hey, look, I don't want you to be upset,” he says as I sit on the edge of the bed and hold the baby monitor in my lap like it's a shield. I didn't mean for my feelings to come out. Really, I didn't. I can't imagine that all of the twisty things I feel when he's around mean anything at all. This is the first guy I've ever slept with, so of course I'm going to feel some sort of attachment to him. I'd prepared myself for this.
What I hadn't prepared myself for was exactly how much I'd like him.
Zayden sits down on the edge of the bed next to me, our thighs pressed together in a warm line, one of his tattooed hands—the one with the open book—coming to rest on my knee. The tender way he touches me, and the softness in his voice when he speaks, they almost make things worse.
“Hey, if you want me to block Tinley's number, I will.” There's a long pause there before he digs his phone out of his back pocket and shows it to me, scrolling through his texts and finding the one she sent over to give him her number. He blocks it as I watch. “There. Is that better?”
“It's not just that, Zayden,” I say quietly, and something about the soft gentle darkness around us makes me feel brave. Moonlight slants across the carpet in front of my feet, silver-blue bars of pale light that just barely kiss the toes of my tennis shoes. “It's way more than that.”
There's another long pause as Zayden exhales and sits up straight, streaking his fingers through his hair. I stare at him, but I don't much feel like looking him in the eyes, so I gaze at the black ring piercings on either side of his lip instead.
“You have a crush on me, too, huh?” he asks and it takes me a second to realize what he's talking about. I've got such a huge crush on you, Brooke. Oh. He did say that, didn't he?
I shrug my shoulders because I feel like I can't look at him right now, can't see disdain or rejection or even pity on his face.
“I like you, Brooke. A lot. More than most girls.”
“Most girls?” I echo, because when you think about that statement, it's really not very flattering at all. Zayden shifts a little and reaches over to touch my chin, turning my face toward him. His brown eyes are soft in the darkness, his half-smile tilted to one side.
“Better than any girl,” he says and a chill chases down my spine.
“Is that a line?” I ask, because I really don't want it to be. For once, I want something that's mine and mine alone. I want this. Obviously, I know I can't actually have Zayden, but … I want to be that one girl, just this one time.
“Nope. Just the truth. Plain and simple,” he says, letting go of my chin and dropping his hand to the hem of my dress, chasing his finger underneath it and up my thigh. Each touch of his fingertips sends my heart skipping and bouncing, until it's beating an irregular rhythm just for him. “I really do like you, Brooke.”
“Okay, so.” I turn toward him, putting one knee up on the bed and tucking some hair over my shoulders. “What does that mean?”
“Mean?” he asks, hooking up an eyebrow. “Like I said before … it means something, but it doesn't change anything. You know that, right?”
“I just don't … I mean, I get it, but why?” When I look up at Zayden, I think I have tears in the corners of my eyes. Or maybe I just feel like I'm about to cry. “Why couldn't, you know, this,” I gesture between us, “work? It's kind of awesome so far.”
I make myself smile, but Zayden's expression has slipped into a gentle frown.
“I live in Las Vegas,” he says, but that's not good enough for me.
“So?”
“So. You live here. You just up and moved, Brooke. And you have school, and the kids, and Jesus, you're only twenty-two. You can't put all your dollars in one slot.”
“You're saying because I haven't slept with other guys that this can't work?”
“I'm saying you have no idea what you're feeling for me because you have nothing to compare it against. That's all.”
“We could … do this long distance?” I say as Zay glances up at me and smiles. But it's not a good smile. It's kind of a sad smile, a why-are-you-so-pathetic sort of smile. It pisses me off. “What's so crazy about that? Not enough sex for you? Is that it?”
“You have enough to worry about without having me in the picture. And I have a mortgage and a job back at home. There's nothing here for me.”
I purse my lips and glance away.