Page 9 of Cruel Fate

I don’t want to talk business. Don’t want to talk about responsibilities that shouldn’t be mine. I need to mentally prepare for tonight. It will make news I finally poked my head out of my shell.

It would help a helluva lot if Stella’s there.

Exhausted, I lay on Zarah’s bed after Ash and I eat brunch. She sits next to me, her chin resting on my bent knee.

“I told you not to steal her,” she says, playfully poking at my ribs. I may have sounded too eager when I suggested Stella go out with us tonight, but whenever I think about seeing her again, my heart thrums and my cock hardens, wanting her.

“I’m not. We’ll just go out, have a good time.”

“So I can watch you two fall in love over champagne?”

“Who said anything about love?”

“You did, but not with your mouth.” Zarah rolls her eyes and sighs. “You can have her if she can still be my friend.”

“She’s not a thing,” I say, throwing a stuffed giraffe she still keeps on her bed into the air and catching it.

Throw. Catch. Throw. Catch.

“I know. But if she’ll make you happy...”

“It’s only a night out, Z.”

“I’ll ask, but you going out tonight will be complete chaos. ‘The Bad Boy of King’s Crossing. Who will help him heal after his parents’ tragic deaths?’” she says sarcastically, mimicking a headline that will be sure to appear online tomorrow. “She’s a payroll clerk—she’s not going to want to party with us.”

If I hadn’t met Stella, I would have scoffed at my sister’s statement, but Stella doesn’t take anyone’s shit and I can see her having little patience with clubbing. “Tell her the bill will be taken care of.”

Zarah glares. “Why? That’s crass.”

I laugh. “You’ve never had a poor friend, have you?”

I wouldn’t have either, but there were a few students at Columbia who attended on full scholarships and couldn’t cough up cash to party, at least, not on our level. They either stayed home, saved up for one crazy night out, or hoped a friend would carry them. We usually did. Spending our mom and dad’s money made it easy to spread it around. “Stella won’t go if she can’t afford it. She won’t hang out with us for the very reason you like her. She’s not impressed, and she’s not a user. You picked a good one, I could tell the minute she didn’t let me have my way. Ask her to meet us in the lobby at nine. Ash is sending a car to pick us up.”

“You know a lot about her all of a sudden.”

“I tried to kiss her last night,” I admit. It’s better Zarah hears it from me now, than Stella telling her in the ladies’ room at Temptations.

Zarah cups my face between her hands. “Zane. I love you, and you’ve been in a fog since Mom and Dad. If you think Stella . . .”

I’m relieved she’s happy for me and not resentful since she warned me off last night, but this is too much, too soon. “I don’t know. All I know is I see the same qualities in her that you do. It would be nice to talk to someone who isn’t calculating how much the conversation’s worth.”

She gives me a smacking kiss on my cheek. “Then I support you. Did Ash ask about me?”

“He did. Specifically invited you. You’re going to have to let him reel you in if you want him. He won’t hang around forever.”

“I’m biding my time, but I’ll make it worth his while.” She grins saucily.

“I’m sure you will, but be careful, huh?”

“Ash would never hurt me.”

Zarah’s twenty years old, almost twenty-one. She has brains and knows how to watch out for herself. I shouldn’t worry, but now that Mom and Dad are gone, Zarah’s my responsibility. She lies next to me, and I hug her close. We’re all each other has now, and I’ll protect her until the day I die.

Stella’s face floats into my mind, her pretty blue eyes, her pert nose, her lips that taste of red wine and cheesecake.

I’ll protect her too, if need be.

A thought comes into my head, and I bat it away. It’s too soon. I have no idea how she feels about me.

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