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Capture by Rachel Van Dyken (25)

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

 

Dani

"WHOA, SLOW DOWN THERE." ZANE SLID my can of Coke Zero away and sat on my lap. How the hell had he found me on my balcony, and why did he always insist on invading my personal space? Ugh, first thing tomorrow, I was buying him a pack of shirts.

"Uffff." I pushed at his back. "Why are you so heavy?"

"I work on my fitness," he teased. "Also, not moving until you tell me why there's two empty cans in the trash and a third sitting here like you're trying to get drunk off caffeine, Splenda, and caramel coloring."

"Am I boring?" I asked, genuinely curious if that was what my life had come to — from life of the party to the party-ending sad girl.

"All the time," he said seriously. "But I like torture, so I hang out with you anyway."

"You have no friends," I pointed out.

He opened his mouth.

"And the marshmallow bunnies don't count. We already discussed this."

He grinned shamelessly. "You're no fun."

"See!" I yelled.

Rolling his eyes, Zane grabbed my hands and kissed them. "I've known you, what? Three days?"

"Feels like years," I grumbled, reaching for my can.

He swatted my hand out of the way and stood.

"What?" I stared at his tall form.

"You miss Lincoln, right?"

"No," I lied, my cheeks heating.

"Up you go, Pinocchio." He hefted me to my feet. "Night on the town. We're crashing whatever date-from-hell Lincoln's on, and I'm going to steal the girl."

"Jo-Jo?" I burst out laughing. "You don't want to do that, believe me."

"I've had dates with worse." Zane ran his hands through his dark hair. "Trust me, Linc may be fresh meat, but I'm newer meat. Ergo, I steal the girl, and leave you time with the guy."

"So he can what?" I whispered. "Reject me again?"

"The girl has a point." Zane tapped his chin. "Or we could grab ice cream downtown, do a strategic walk-by of the restaurant, then go to bed early like winners."

I nodded my head and laughed. "I especially like the winning part."

"So why the long face?" Zane shrugged.

"Maybe we should just get it over with. We'd be good together, right?"

"I think I'm missing a key part of this conversation." Zane opened the door that led back into the house from the upstairs balcony. "Fill me in while you find your shoes?"

"Sex." I nodded seriously. "We're both virgins, or well, technically you are, I'm not but that's not the point! My first time was horrible."

"Say that louder." Zane shushed me with his hand. "Seriously."

"Maybe it would be easier. Just get it over with."

"Nope." Zane shook his head. "Are you even hearing yourself? I should never be the guy you get it over with… with."

"But—"

"And you're better than that. I would never have sex with you. You're welcome for that."

"Shouldn't I be insulted?"

"Nope." He sighed, tossing my sandals at my face. "If there's anything I've learned it's this. You savor life. You don't jump into it and wish for it to be over, because you never know how much time you're going to be given. You should never get anything over with — no matter how scary it may be."

I grumbled and pulled on my sandals. "Fine."

"Geez, remind me never to give you life advice."

"Sorry." I grimaced. "Bad mood… too much soda…"

He held out his hand again. "Which is why we're evening it out with sugar!"

 

 

ICE CREAM WAS A good idea. Then again, most of Zane's ideas were good. I had a weird suspicion he didn't really have many friends. I rarely saw him texting anyone, and when I asked about his family, he locked up like a vault. It was weird, someone that famous not really having anyone. I had to wonder if the reason he hated staying alone was because he was lonely.

Maybe that was why I felt comfortable around him, or as comfortable as a girl could get around a mega-hot celebrity. He was so easy to be around that I forgot how famous he was, which nearly caused an early onset heart attack at the ice cream store, one of the employees started crying and actually handed over her bra.

Without breaking stride, Zane took it, signed his name on the strap, handed it back, and gave the girl a twenty-dollar tip, all the while remembering my order and getting extra marshmallows on his.

"You ever going to tell me?" I asked, nudging him in the side. He towered over me so it was more like I'd elbowed his hip.

Zane licked his vanilla ice cream as if he was making love to the spoon. "About?"

"The marshmallow thing," I answered, tossing my cup into the trash and wiping my sticky hands on the last of the napkins.

"Oh." Zane nodded eagerly.

I waited.

"Not a chance in hell." He flashed a grin and stopped walking, his gaze traveling to the outdoor patio of the Crab Shack.

Jo-Jo was sitting under the umbrella twirling a drink in her hands, while Lincoln looked ready to jump over the little wrought iron fence and make a run for it.

"He doesn't like her. At all." Zane laughed.

"I know." I giggled. "But he deserves it."

"That?" Zane pointed with his spoon. "No man deserves."

Lincoln threw his hands into the air, tossed a few bills onto the table, then left Jo-Jo pouting in the corner. Swearing, he nearly collided with another customer.

"Lincoln!" Zane yelled.

"Traitor," I muttered under my breath.

Lincoln swung his gaze in our direction, and his face turned an angry red. "Hey." His eyes raked my body in before he finally managed to give Zane a tiny nod.

"Ouch." Zane rubbed his stomach. "Wow, must have eaten too much ice cream. Can you take Dani home?"

I didn't have time to kill Zane, because as soon as the words were out of his mouth, he was already walking backward toward… not where our car was parked.

"Sure." Lincoln's hoarse voice pulled at something in my chest, our eyes locked, and Zane was completely forgotten.

"See ya," Zane called.

Dark circles lined Lincoln's eyes. He looked rough. "You wanna…" He squinted at the sunset. "… you want to go for a walk?"

I nodded.

We walked in silence for a while, side by side, not touching, but his body heat was an intensely tangible thing, reaching out and searing me with his nearness. Why couldn't I like a guy like Zane?

Instead, I was cursed to like Lincoln.

"Okay, here's how this is going to work." Lincoln said once we reached the edge of the boardwalk, where the sand met the cement. "I'm going to give you three seconds to run. Then I'm taking off my shoes and going after you."

"Um, what? Why?" My heart skipped a beat.

He turned his grey gaze on me. "It's a metaphor." His voice lowered. "I want to chase you, Dani."

I sucked in a breath.

"I want to capture you."

"Is this a catch-and-release thing?" I tried to tease, but my voice had turned all breathy, and the taunt fell short.

It didn't matter because he ignored me. "One."

I hurriedly flipped off my sandals and started running as I heard him yell two… then three.

I didn't make it far.

Until he was lifting me into the air and walking me away from the people and toward the sunset and… the ocean.

Once the water reached his feet, he set me down and tilted my chin toward his face, his fingers brushing against my lips. "Caught."

"Yeah," I whispered as cool water rushed over my ankles, "I guess I am."

 

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