Jade
I’ve cried most the ride back to Zach’s, but by the time I pull into his driveway, my tears have dried leaving the skin of my cheeks feeling tight. I check myself in the mirror, wipe the runaway eyeliner-mascara mix under my eyes, take a deep as hell breath, and then head into the house.
The house is dead silent when I enter with Zach nowhere in sight. I drop my purse on the counter and go in search of him. Padding down the small hallway off the front half of the house, I make my way toward his office. The door is slightly ajar when I peek in. He doesn’t hear me, nor does he sense me as he’s lost in thought. He’s standing behind a large sleek black desk with a large blueprint stretched out in front of him.
The lines on his face are riddled with concentration, his eyes focused and slightly narrowed. In all the years I’ve known him, I’ve only seen him in his element doing what he’s passionate about one time. He had stayed with Max during a break at college and had an assignment due for his structural design class the Tuesday following their return. I admired the way his hands worked, sketching and shading the paper. His eyes were lit up and I remember thinking he was going to be the sexiest architect this world had ever seen.
Nothing has changed…
He scribbles something down, measures with a silver ruler, hits a few buttons on the calculator beside him, and then measures once more before sliding the end of the pencil across the paper and writing something quickly beside it.
Suddenly, he glances up and grins. “Hey. How was lunch with Max?”
I take a step in. “I’ve never officially seen you work.”
Both his brows raise. “I’m pretty sexy doing it, huh?”
“Lost in concentration definitely looks delicious on you.”
He hums. “Jade giving me yet another compliment…”
I shrug, biting my lip and looking around the room. It has a sleek, manly feel. The walls are a unique khaki color with dark shelving holding certificates and awards, a fancy clock—dark with silver accents—and a few pictures of Zach I’m assuming winning his awards since he’s smiling as he shakes the hands of others. Turning, he has a modern black leather couch sitting against the back wall.
I lose my breath when my eyes divert to the picture above it. Reds intertwine with purples and whites. Yellows wrap and mix into smooth strokes. Blue dabs litter the canvas.
“You did buy it…” My words float out. I can’t believe it’s right in front of me.
He steps in behind me. “Guess the cat’s out the bag. After you tried acting out what you saw, I fell in love with it for my own reasons. I did debate on giving it to you, but because I became pretty attached to it, my selfishness wouldn’t let me get rid of it.”
It’s such a beautiful abstract painting. Expressionism, I think. I was enamored by it and how it resembles a man and a woman holding onto each other in the rain. Maybe it’s my situation, but to me it elicits the feeling of desperation—a couple madly in love as the world tries pulling them apart.
“I…I can’t believe I’m actually looking at it again. I came to grips that I’d never see it again.”
He bends, dropping a kiss to my cheek. “I’ve wanted to tell you for years, but I knew you’d swindle me out of it and I wasn’t ready to see it go. Did you ever do any research on it?”
I shake my head. “No. I didn’t want to pour salt into the wound.” I spin around to him. “But you’ve had it the entire time.”
His grin is proud. “It’s properly named Follow Your Heart. Fitting I’d say.” He winks and exits the room.
I take another glance at the painting, admiring the beauty, the strokes and lines of the paint, and then follow him into the kitchen.
“Sooo…” I draw out. “My brother kind of ratted me out.”
He sets his glass down, rests his hip on the side of the counter, and crosses his arms over his chest waiting for me to elaborate.
“The asshole made me call my parents and tell them.”
Zach’s expression wilts, his mouth forming a straight line. He drags his hand through his hair. “Shit. I wanted you and me to do it.”
“Well, Max beat us to whatever we wanted to do.”
“What did they say? Did you tell them by who?”
I nod. “Dad’s pissed, so brace yourself when he calls you. And Mom…I think she’s okay. Could have been shock.”
He grabs me and molds me against his body before lowering a soft kiss to my lips. It’s slow, his tongue seeking mine, and makes my body begin to buzz. When he pulls his lips away, he rests his forehead on mine.
“Your parents will be thrilled after they calm down. I’m sure I’ll receive an ugly thrashing from Keith, but it’s not like he hasn’t gotten onto me before.”
“You knocked up his baby girl. This will be completely different than you skipping class.”
His lips twitch. “I’ll handle it.”
The intimacy snaps my spine straight and I take a step back. He questions me silently and as if the answer was whispered into his ear, he shakes his head, closing his eyes for a moment.
“I have a few more things to finish,” he says. “Give me an hour.” He starts back to his office, but skips a step, pivots and walks backward. A boyish grin spreads across his face. “You could always come watch my sexy ass work so you can get all hot and bothered. I won’t mind hearing your pants in my office.”
I bite my lips to hide my smile and then turn away and head outside. He laughs.
I sit on the ledge of the pool and drape my feet into the cool water. Memories flood me and I break into a wide grin. It was summer, we were at our house, and Max had thrown a small party. It was most of his friends and their girlfriends, but leave it up to the annoying little sister to make her presence because I could. Normally, I would’ve been out with Noah, but he and several of his football buddies went to play a game or two in the park. I sat quietly in the lounger, watching the guys, some of them definitely worth watching, until the sun made my eyes heavy and I dozed off. I woke up to water dripping on my face and leaped sitting up, swatting whatever bastard was picking on me.
That bastard was Zach. He was grinning ear to ear, his sunglasses on top of his head and his eyes glimmering with mischief. I hadn’t seen him in two months. No secret rendezvous, no contact except a few random texts. He looked like heaven placed him there with the sun outlining his silhouette with a bright angelic glow. He was shirtless, one of his large arms over my head dribbling the water before dropping it to his side, his chest muscles defined, his stomach flat and smooth, his shorts low showing off the trail of hair from his belly button disappearing below the band.
“Sleeping beauty,” he said. “Half naked for everyone to ogle.”
I arched a brow. “They’re not paying me any attention.”
“They’ll be jizzing on their girlfriends tonight with your perky tits and banging body highlighted by the sun.”
“They or you?” I replied flirtatiously.
“Oh, I definitely will.” He smirked.
I glanced down to the water droplets before offering a frisky smile. “You made me wet.”
“As I always do.” He flashed a grin, looked up, and then it melted. And I knew who was walking toward us.
Tiffany sidled up beside him, wrapping an arm around his waist, and resting a hand on his stomach. She looked like a whore—okay, maybe not, but my envy had deep jealous claws. She had her hair pulled into a ponytail, too much makeup for a pool party, too little of a bikini to be considered decent. Her body came with perfection—perfect tits, perfect legs, perfect hips, perfect everything—and while most girls would be envious of her beauty, I was dying for the man who had his arm around her.
I stood. “When did you get into town? Max didn’t say you were coming.”
Zach coolly lifted a shoulder. “He called me last night and talked me into it.”
I glanced to his forearm where a month ago he, Max, and Easton all went to a tattoo parlor and got tattoos. Zach’s is of the eye of providence with a lot of designs surrounding it. “Your tattoo looks really good.”
Even from under her sunglasses, I could see Tiffany rolled her eyes.
Zach smiled. “Yeah. Thanks.”
“Still saying it’s the great architect of the universe or are you going to admit you’re part of the illuminati?”
It made him chuckle and the sound of it made my heart flutter.
“I’m not at liberty to speak of it,” he jested.
Tiffany hated the way we bantered, but I kind of enjoyed seeing her scowl because of me. She dragged her hand down his chest and rested it across his stomach as she looked up to the man I loved. “Let’s go swim.”
Zach’s gaze was on me the whole time, full of apologies. He leaned and kissed me on the cheek. “It’s good to see you again.”
I faked a happy smile. “Yeah. You too.”
And I watched them walk away, each step cracking a fault line in the middle of my heart. I hated she was with him. He deserved someone better, even if it wasn’t me. Tiffany wanted him for all the wrong reasons, and Zach being a guy, wanted her for all the sexual ones.
My skin prickles, the sensation dancing up my spine. I can feel his presence, his eyes on me. I toss a glance over my shoulder. Zach’s sitting in a chair in the shade, his ankle thrown over his knee with his lips pulled up slightly.
“What are you thinking about over there?”
I shake my head and look back to the water glistening in the sunlight.
“Me?”
I drop my head and bark a laugh. “What makes you think I’d be thinking of you?” I say with too much attitude.
“The way you looked,” he replies.
“Don’t you have work to be doing?”
“I’m done.” He stands behind me, blocking out the sun from heating my back.
“It’s been an hour already?” I pull my feet out of the water and stand.
“Yeah.” His hands run over my shoulders and down my arms. “So was I blowing your mind?”
Reliving the sting from seeing him walk away with her on his arm, I blink. “No. You were breaking my heart.”
His smile drops as does his face. I side step around him and head into the house.
As I reach into the fridge for a bottle of water, he snatches it out of my hand, slams it onto the counter, but cups my face gently. “I want to erase all those bad memories and replace them with better ones. I’m trying. And you’re not letting me.”
I close my eyes. “I don’t want new ones.” My mind is fist pumping the air, but my heart is shaking its head in disappointment.
He releases an exasperated groan. “That’s what your mouth is saying…”
I’ve always despised when he says that. It’s as if he can read everything I’m hiding, everything I’m desperately fighting and I don’t find it fair. Men are supposed to be stupid, not in tune with a woman’s body and mind, and definitely not able to fricking read it like a blueprint. They should only be able to decipher chemistry—it’s either there or it’s not. They should sense the desire, picking up on certain body languages. But Zach being able to sense it should be illegal in the man handbook.
The moment he kisses me, my body tingles and melts into his. A moan escapes me. I detest how much power he has over me.
That’s what my mind is saying…