“Look, I know this seems really special now, but what about in two weeks? Or three? In my experience, relationships don't exactly work out. They're more trouble than they're worth. Let's leave this at a sweet spot and say good-bye when the time comes.”
My eyes really do water then, and I stand up, moving away from Zayden as I take a deep breath. I feel like I'm in a prison of my own making. I got myself here. I invited him into my bed and into my life.
This sucks.
“We still have three nights left though,” he purrs, his voice drawing my attention back to the bed. But then I look at him sitting there, looking so pretty in the moonlight, and I just feel sad. Maybe it's not even Zayden that I care about? Maybe I'm just lonely. I don't know. I feel really fucking lonely right now.
“You should go check on that duplex,” I say as I squeeze the baby monitor in my hand. Zay stands up and starts to move toward me, but I back up and he takes that as a hint, holding up his palms in surrender.
“Okay. Alright. Look, if you change your mind while I'm gone,” he pauses again and takes a few steps closer to me, leaning in to breathe hot words against my ear, “leave your bedroom door unlocked.”
Zayden disappears out the door and down the steps. I wait until I hear it lock behind him before I move over to my own door and lock that, too.
The next morning, I dress all the way up for class, using a YouTube tutorial on my phone to apply my makeup, and picking out the most cohesive pieces of clothing that I own. I end up in skinny jeans, black boots that remind me of a pair I saw Zayden wearing, and a hot pink tank top.
I even get up an hour early to wash and dry my hair, combing it out until there's a sleek shiny chocolate wave tumbling down to my ass.
When I'm finished cleaning my piercing, I head into the hallway to the sound of … quiet? When I clomp down the stairs, I manage to catch a brief glimpse of five children seated around the dining table. As I pause to stare, one of the twins scrambles away and Zayden chases him down.
“Oh no you don't,” he says as he swings the kid over his shoulder and then pauses to look at me.
There's a sudden moment of awkward where I wonder if I should say something. But why? Zayden made it perfectly clear last night that he didn't need to talk. It means something, but it doesn't change anything. Fine. If that's how he feels …
“Brooke,” he says as I turn away and start for the door, reaching out a hand and resting it on the knob as I take a deep breath. “We cool?” he asks, his voice this soft breath that makes me shiver a little. “Because you know, it'd totally bum me out if you didn't come home after class.”
I almost smile, but I can't quite force my lips to move. I keep thinking of that quiet dark and that slanted moonlight and Zayden's weirdly sad half-smile.
“I have plans with Tinley,” I say, looking over my shoulder and shrugging loosely. “I'll stop in before work, okay?”
Zayden watches me for a moment and then nods, swinging his nephew back onto the ground and snapping his fingers.
“Back to the kitchen, kid. Let's do this. Military precision, remember?”
“Eat a dick!” the four year old screams before rushing up the stairs with screeching laughter. Both Zayden and I exchange a look over that one, the confusion about our weird non-relationship temporarily forgotten.
“Um,” he says and then scratches at the back of his head. “I am so going to get it from Rob for that one, even though I don't actually remember saying it around him …”
“Don't look at me,” I say as I snag my bag off the coatrack and open the front door. “It definitely wasn't me. I already spent the last of my cash in the curse jar.”
I smile tightly and slip out before things can get anymore awkward, moving quickly to my Subaru and climbing in before Zayden can think to come after me. I'm still trying to process what happened last night, push my emotions down and lock them away. Especially since I know I'm being ridiculous. I knew what to expect from Zayden Roth—and I definitely didn't expect his knight in shining armor meter to ping for long.
Guess I was right about that one.
After class, I head back to the house to change, finding a peaceful set of kids gathered around the TV with bowls of grapes in their hands, eyes glued to the flickering action of Zayden's video game. He's playing some wildly colorful platformer with his tongue sticking out the side of his mouth, his black hair spiked up into a wild crazy Mohawk, his shaved side impossible to see from where I'm standing.
As soon as I close the door behind me, he pauses the game and glances over, drawing groans of disappointment from everyone but Sadie.
“Aunt Brooke!” Bella says as she scrambles from her seat and comes over to give me a hug, presenting her daily report card to me. The kids get one at the end of each school day, and I'm supposed to sign them before sending her in the next morning. I don't remember doing it for the past week, and I wonder if Zayden's been picking up that slack? “I got a one hundred today.”