Page 9 of Obsession Under the Southern Stars

“Oh, you do this a lot, do you?”

“Only with you.”

She scoffs. “I know that ain’t true.”

I chuckle. “I haven’t had a girlfriend in over a year.”

Her eyebrows shoot up. “Seriously?”

“Yeah.”

“Why not? Run through all the girls on Tinder in Wellington, have you?”

“I don’t go on Tinder.”

She gives me a curious look. “Why not?”

“I like meaningful relationships.” She giggles, and my lips curve up. “I’m serious,” I protest.

We pause as the flight attendant comes over and asks if we’d like anything to eat or drink. We decide on coffee and croissants with preserves, and she goes away to sort it out.

Zoe leans her chin on her hand, studying me. “How many girls have you been with?”

“Wow. Totally not answering that question.”

“Why not?”

“How many guys have you been with?”

She runs her tongue over her teeth and doesn’t reply.

“Yeah,” I say, “I thought not.”

The flight attendant brings over some cutlery and the tiny jars of preserves, then disappears again. I pick up a tiny packet of butter and turn it over in my fingers. “Have you seen Charlemagne since you broke up?”

She gives me a sarcastic look. “Don’t call him that.”

“Charles the Great. It’s a compliment.”

“Which you don’t mean in the slightest.”

“Of course not. The guy’s a knob.”

Her lips curve up. “Why didn’t you like him?”

“Because he had you.”

“He didn’thaveme. He neverhadme.” She looks away, stiff and resentful.

I study her face, thinking how gorgeous she is. She’s smart and sharp, sometimes prickly, and she’s not afraid to tell you if she doesn’t like what you’re saying. She’s feisty and independent, but vulnerable and a little broken, I think, although I don’t yet know why.

Her gaze comes back to me. “So why haven’t you dated? Just been too busy working?”

“Partly.”

A frown flickers on her brow. “So what’s the other part?”

I study her mouth, which is, as usual, free of lipstick and pale pink. “You really have no idea?”

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