Page 104 of Shattered Veil

He rubbed at his eyes, groaning, “I know you are.”

“You’re going to be late,” Zoey told him.

“Okay,” Liam sighed and looked to me. “If I’m not back by the time Zo’ leaves for work, go hang out with Luke and Claire upstairs.”

“I know the drill,” I replied. “Go.”

He nodded, seemingly appeased though still far from thrilled, and walked to stand before Zoey. She angled her head up to him, giving him an altogether casual smile.

“Good luck on your test, Sweets.”

The endearment that they used for each other that was so rarely publicly spoken seemed to soften him, if only slightly. Reaching for her face, he gently pushed her glasses to sit atop her head and leaned down to kiss her. Closed-mouthed and sweet, the first was less than brief, and I trained my eyes on my mug in an attempt to offer them a semblance of privacy. Their lips smacked not once—not twice—but three times, and I easily ignored the sounds because they were rather quiet. What I couldn’t allow to bypass, however, was my brother’s deep, “Mmm.”

I felt my mouth contort into a grimace at the noise.

“You’re going to be la-ate,” Zoey said again, singing the last word softly.

He replied in a husky, “I could be later.”

She began to chuckle, and I deadpanned:

“Y’know, this is why I’m staying with Jay rather than you guys, right?”

I looked up once again to see them slowly separating, Zoey with a smile that lacked a granule of regret and Liam with the mildly perturbed look of a man interrupted.

“I thought you said you wanted to make sure you had privacy?” he asked.

“I didn’t say there was only one reason I’m staying across the hall,” I retorted.

2A also offered freshly cooked meals, plentiful orgasms, and grey eyes that made my brain seize forward motion.

With a heavy roll of his eyes, he grumbled, “Yeah, yeah-yeah.” Liam didn’t question my reasoning any further. He looked down to Zoey, let the hand that had lingered on the nape of her neck fall away, and murmured, “Later, Sweets.”

I watched her watch him leave. Watched her smile softly to herself as the deadbolt locked from the outside. Zoey then took a long sip from her coffee, set it down on the table with care, and looked to be savoring the taste before she grinned at me.

“So,” she spoke, “are we gonna talk about it?”

There were several things that I loved about Zoey—one of them was her bluntness.

“Ah. There are several its. Which one are you referring to?” I lightheartedly asked. “My previous employment, the reasoning for my leaving said employment, my brother’s reaction to both, or the whole clusterfuck?”

She laughed, her glasses slid down her nose, and she pushed them up with an index finger.

“Well, I figured you’ve had enough of that,” she quipped. “But since you mentioned it, you’re…good…right?”

Her brow furrowed as she questioned me, and I saw the concern flaring in her eyes as she waited for my response.

“Good is a weird way to put it,” I offhandedly replied.

“You know what I mean,” she mumbled, “and you know that I’m never all,” Zoey’s naturally high voice hitched even higher, “‘Ooo, girlfriend, tell me all the feels.’”

I snorted at the insinuation. Anyone of reasonably sound mind would realize that Zoey was, if anything, quietly empathetic. While it was clear that she felt deeply for the ones she cared for, she wasn’t one to scream her feelings from a rooftop…nor was she regularly offering to be a shoulder to cry on. She simply cared—and she only spoke of it when she felt it was needed, which weighted her words all the more.

“I’m well aware of that,” I said softly.

She gave me the smallest of smiles. “Just making sure you’re not…I don’t know…having a silent mental breakdown? This has been really heavy.”

I assured her, “I’m alright, Zo’. We don’t need to talk about it, really.”

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