Page 19 of Seeking Shadows

He lets out a long, dramatic sigh. "Why am I even here?"

"Because you love my company," I say sweetly. "And you’d miss me too much if you left."

"I wouldn’t," he mutters, though the corner of his mouth twitches like he’s holding back a smile.

"You would," I counter, leaning closer. "You’d be miserable without me. A sad little thundercloud, all alone."

"You’ve officially lost your mind," he says, but his voice is softer—less tense.

"And yet, here you are. Voluntarily spending time with me." I tilt my head. "Almost like you enjoy it."

"I regret every decision that led me here," he deadpans, but I catch the flicker of amusement in his eyes.

"No, you don’t." I nudge his arm with my elbow. "Admit it, you’d be bored without me."

"More like at peace," he mutters, but his shoulders have relaxed, and I know—I know—he’s not as annoyed as he pretends to be.

"You love it," I tease, my voice softer now. "You love when I get under your skin."

Zane glances at me, something unreadable in his expression. "You are under my skin, Mia."

And for a moment, the teasing stops—because the way he says it feels like a confession.

As the car hums to life, I stretch out in my seat, crossing my legs just to watch Zane glance at them before forcing his gaze back to the road.

"You know," I sigh dramatically, "I miss being under you."

His grip tightens on the steering wheel, knuckles turning white. "Mia."

"What?" I blink innocently. "I’m just reminiscing. You were much nicer when you were on top of me."

His jaw flexes. "You’re unbelievable."

"And you suck at being the broody bad boy who hates me," I continue, watching his reaction closely. "Seriously, it’s not convincing at all. If anything, it's just making me horny."

Zane exhales sharply through his nose, his fingers tapping a restless rhythm on the wheel. "Mia—"

"Like, if you're trying to push me away, maybe trynotlooking at me like that." I gesture at his face. "Because all I’m getting is ‘I’m mad, but I still want to f—’"

His hand leaves the wheel for half a second—just long enough to cover my mouth before I can finish. "Enough."

I bite his palm, and he jerks his hand away with an annoyed groan.

I grin. "See? You can’t even commit to hating me. It’s adorable."

He mutters something under his breath, but I catch the wordinsufferable.

"Admit it," I press, leaning in. "You like me too much to be a jerk for real."

Zane keeps his eyes on the road, but I don’t miss the way his ears turn pink.

"I need to drive faster," he mumbles.

I smirk, victorious.

By the time we arrived, Zane had slipped back into his usual avoidant self, the walls up again. Guess I’ll have to push him a little harder to make him crack.

I don’t remember ever going to one of my father’s parties. Maybe in my imagination, but never in a way that feels real. Never in a way that matters.

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