Bad Boy's Baby (46 page)

“Going out?” I asked.

“Yep.”

“With who?”

She shrugged. “A couple girlfriends. Nothing important. Need a chance to get out of the house.”

And away from me. I crossed my arms. The headache faded in her presence, and her touch was the sort of balm I’d apply directly to the forehead—and everywhere else.

If she’d just look at me.

If she’d take the fucking chance to think about what might have started.

Sure, I fucked it up in the beginning—built the inferno before we gathered the kindling. But stepping backwards was harder than getting her into the sheets.

“You okay?” I asked.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

“Lost your job. Douche-bag advisor. Graduation delays?” Listing her insecurities was probably a bad idea. Too bad I was her biggest one. “Fucking me.”

Her compact snapped shut. She closed her eyes. “Zach.”

“You enjoyed yourself.”

“That’s not the point.”

“What is?”

“That I need
time
to process what happened,” she said. “I need to…figure things out.”

“Why don’t we do it together?”

“Because I’m not sure if there is a
together
, Zach. Don’t you get it?” She tried to stare at my forehead instead of in my eyes. I wasn’t having it. I snapped her focus to me, and her voice softened. Progress, at least. “This is all so complicated.”

“It doesn’t have to be.”

“But it
is
.” She stood only to grab her purse. “I came to you for comfort. Twice. And you pulled me from my problems in the best way a girl could ask. I’m grateful, Zach.”

Grateful
.

That wasn’t what I wanted. I didn’t fuck her so she could feel better about herself. I fucked her because I couldn’t imagine a world where I wasn’t inside of her, feeling her, experiencing her.

This woman was rapidly becoming the center of my goddamned universe and she didn’t even realize it. Worse, telling her would only ruin every chance I had.

But what if
I
needed to be fucking comforted?

My expression twisted. Shay backpedaled, but my disgust didn’t aim for her.

What the hell was wrong with me? So I got a fucking
headache
. Since when did I whine about it to the one woman I was trying to impress?

What did I think would happen? She’d listen? She’d care?

Shay couldn’t figure her own shit out. I wasn’t dropping mine on her too. Revealing any of my shame would blow my shot with her. I didn’t need her to help me feel better. I wasn’t a damned child.

Besides, she wasn’t ready to talk to me. Why would I unload on her? Obviously she didn’t trust me yet.

Christ, that hurt worse than the headache.

Didn’t matter. She was scared. It wasn’t worth fighting and frightening her more. If she wanted space, she’d get it. If she wanted fucked…

My cock stirred as she bent to grab her shoes.

There
it was. Back from its fucking slumber.

That was a scare I didn’t need. The headache pulsed harder, but at least if Shay wanted
comfort
again, I’d give it. Then maybe she’s realize what a fucking mistake she made by not letting me actually help.

I surrendered. I needed a nap and a stiff drink. I waved a hand.

“Have a good time,” I said. “I won’t wait up.”

“Didn’t ask you to.”

No, she hadn’t. Whatever.

I turned, but she called to me before I made it to the door.

“Zach?”

“Yeah?”

She twisted her purse in her hands. Her curls bobbed, and her almond eyes widened.

“Never mind,” she said. “It’s nothing.”

I didn’t believe her, but I wasn’t arguing. I nodded and let her dress in peace.

The headache kicked my ass. I crashed in my room as it shifted from annoying to agonizing.

If I had told her about the pain, she probably would have stayed.

I wasn’t ready for that pity-party yet. I’d sort out my own problems first before heaping them on a girl who filled a thirty-five thousand square foot mansion with her own troubles. No sense scaring off the best thing that happened to me since the injury. I was lucky enough to be alive. Now, I was lucky that she let me
comfort
her.

If only she’d let me do more.

Chapter Fourteen – Shay

The fruity drink stashed more umbrellas in the goblet than alcohol. Zach made a better martini though he’d sooner toss a couple olives in a bottle of vodka and call it a day. I liked his style.

And I think I was starting to prefer his company.

Azariah didn’t notice that my drink still sloshed with the peachy-strawberry mixture. She ordered another and waved to the three late-comers to our gals night out. Layna, Heaven, and Nikkole screeched their hellos and bounded to our table.

Layna flicked her manicured fingernails—complete with blue gems imbedded in the paint—at the passing waitress. “Cosmo and a water, thanks.” She scooted into the booth and pulled down her oversized sunglasses. Her dark eyes scolded me with a single glance. “Girl, how’d you piss off Sweeten that bad?”

Azariah mouthed a silent apology and scrunched her nose. She pretended to pass a menu to Heaven though Nikkole wasn’t having any fries or any of my excuses.

“Know what you do?” Nikkole said. “You take all that money your daddy left you, and you buy yourself new a hairdo and find a man.”

Nikkole had a bad habit of picking my greatest insecurity and blabbing it loud enough for everyone around to hear. The rumble of conversations quieted as she waved a hand over my outfit.

“Look at this shit. Button up blouse? Knee-length skirt? Christ, Shay. Let the girls get some air. Plenty of fine looking men on campus would be willing to play teacher with you.”

Heaven studied the menu, dispassionately. She cracked her gum and twirled a finger around her curls, interrupting the conversation in her usual style. “I’m getting a salad.”

We ignored her. Azariah and Layna usually agreed with Nikkole, but Azariah had the tact to phrase it better.

“You’re better than this stress, Shay,” Azariah said. “Go buy yourself some fancy clothes, a new car. Hell, travel to Europe. What do you need school for?”

I shrugged, sipping my drink instead of answering. It wasn’t about the money. It was about what I wanted to
do
, how I wanted to help people.

“She needs to get laid,” Layna said. “Sit on some big ol’ cock and forget all her troubles.”

Nikkole snickered. “But Azariah said—”

Azariah cleared her throat, pushing her drink at Nikkole. “Here. Take this. Shove something in that fat mouth of yours.”

Oh, Christ. She
didn’t
. I stared at her. “You
told
them?”

Heaven still flipped through the menu. She arched an eyebrow. “That you’re banging your brother? Way to go.”

“I’m not—”

Banging him? I stopped myself, but that didn’t make the words any less true.

It was
twice
now.
Twice
I spent the greatest nights of my life in his arms, cuddled to his chest, slamming on his cock.

I had no idea what happened last night, and so I panicked. I didn’t talk to him. I didn’t think about it. I didn’t explain. I…froze.

And when Zach came to talk to me?

I retreated so damn fast I was lucky I didn’t fall on my ass and reveal everything that clutched at my heart, fluttered in my stomach, and scared the ever-loving hell out of me.

“He’s not my brother,” I said. “He’s my step-brother…if it even counts since our parents are dead.”

“Still fucking weird,” Heaven grumbled.

“Heav, shut your mouth.” Azariah threatened her with a drink umbrella. “It was only once. She didn’t know who he was.”

I took another swig. It wasn’t as casual as I thought. I should have stood in the booth, crashed my glass to the floor, and shouted to the masses
Incest is Best!

“Oh, shit, Shay,” Azariah said. “You
didn’t
.”

“It’s not like that.”

“You fucked your brother
again
?”

“Really, it’s not—”

Nikkole snorted. “I told you to live a
little
, girl.”

“Can we
not
talk about this?” I asked. “Please?”

Wasn’t going to happen. My friends cackled with the great and juiciest piece of gossip since Nikkole’s brother accidentally knocked up his girlfriend and her best friend—at the same time.

Well, they weren’t getting any details about my night. I needed to figure out what happened before I could explain it to them. They didn’t know Zach.

Yes, he was sexy, but he was also the type who knew it.

Yes, he was a man-whore, but he sounded so sincere when he reassured me.

Yes, he was my step-brother, but we didn’t grow up together. Our parents only married a short time ago, and we were two consenting adults. 

My friends waited for the dirty details, but the person I
should
have talked to waited for me at home. He was probably looking for an explanation…or a sequel to last night’s events. And the way my body still buzzed? He’d get both.

But I expected him to make a fuss when I brushed him off. Zach usually fought to the death over a choice of pizza toppings. Pissing me off was his favorite damn sport. He came to me, and I freaked, but instead of calling me out on it—like he did
everything
else—he said he…wouldn’t wait up?

The hollow exhaustion in his voice pitted my stomach more than the judgmental glances that passed between my friends.

Maybe Zach…didn’t care?

“Are you still graduating? Shay?” Layna drew my attention. “If you aren’t student teaching, can you finish school?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“What about your party?”

Seriously? Professor Sweeten ripped my heart out, and they worried about the damn graduation party?

“I don’t know.”

“We
need
that party!” She spun the straw in her water. “Fine. We’ll move it up. Screw graduating. We’ll have a
Shay Is Free
party.”

I didn’t want to be free. In fact, I wanted to be so layered in school work, chalk dust, and demerit slips I’d be
dreaming
the ABCs when I got home.

“Maybe?” I frowned. “I’m not feeling like partying.”

Layna huffed. “You mean to tell me you have a giant ass house, pool, tennis courts, and gold fountains, and you don’t want to
party
?”

“It’s not that. Of course I want to celebrate.”

Maybe.

“Good. We’re on. We’ll have a big blowout. Fuck graduating. You’re rich. What do you need an education for?”

I didn’t need a degree, but a hell of a lot of other kids did. How would I help them now?

“We’ll figure something out,” I said. “Can we order dinner?”

Heaven dropped the menu and flashed me a glance that practically layered Atlanta in ice.

“Look, Shay. I love you, but get your head out of your ass.”

The table quieted. So did the tables surrounding us. Two booths away, someone broke a breadstick with a crack. She was immediately hushed.

“You’re a fucking billionaire. You have a car, a house, a future. You never have to worry about a goddamned thing ever again. So don’t sit here and pretend to be humble.”

“Pretend?”

Heaven’s lips pouted even when she was happy. Now that she scolded me? Disapproval was her superpower, and we hadn’t found any kryptonite to throw at her.

“You’ve
always
pretended that the money didn’t matter. Look at your purse. Your shoes. Your car. So you lived in an apartment with your mom before college. We all did, honey.” She scoffed. “I don’t know what’s sadder. You flaunting the money…or you pretending you never had any to begin with.”

“Heaven, I didn’t—”

“It doesn’t matter. Go plan your party. Live in your estate. Fuck your brother. God knows someone as rich as you can get away with whatever you want.”

“That’s not true!”

“I don’t even know why you’re sitting here with us,” Heaven said. “You’ve been checking your phone every ten seconds since we got here. Do you have somewhere better to be? Bank’s closed, sweetheart.”

“Holy Christ, Heaven.” Azariah frowned. “What climbed up your ass?”

Heaven returned to scouring the menu. She gave Azariah a pissy glance. “Just ask her what you wanted. Tell her why we came out tonight. Go on, Zar. Ask her.”

I swallowed. “Ask me what?”

Azariah was in no mood. Even I never riled her up that much. “Drop it, Heaven.”

“I’ll tell her if you don’t.”

Azariah’s nails were too sharp to risk getting her angry. I laid a hand over her wrist.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

Azariah’s gaze lowered. Something told me she wasn’t really reading the advertisement for the double fudge brownie sundae.

“I meant…to ask you for a loan.”

“A…what?”

“My car’s in bad shape. I need a new alternator and breaks.”

I swallowed. “Oh.”

“Just a loan. I’d pay you back.”

My best friend of fifteen years should never have looked that ashamed to come to me for help. “Of course.”

The rest of the table shifted, taking awkward sips of their drinks. Azariah shrugged at the other girls.

Layna was the first to speak. “Books this year were expensive. I was going to ask too.”

I stilled. I suddenly understood. Layna nudged Nikkole with an elbow into her side.

Nikkole smiled. “Trey is getting married. I have to buy a dress.”

I didn’t know what to say. “You…all want loans?”

Heaven showed me her broken phone. “My screen’s cracked. I need a new cell before this one dies.”

“Oh.” My stomach twisted. “I mean…I don’t know.”

Azariah’s voice softened. “I don’t think the car will make it through the week.”

“Well…I
want
to help, but—”

Heaven snorted. She tossed her phone into her purse and muttered to Layna. “Told you she wouldn’t do a damn thing.”

“Wait!” I said. “Why didn’t you think I’d
help
? You know that I’d do anything for you.”