Page 73 of The Forbidden Note

Zane takes the seat right across from me, looking smug.

I bristle in discomfort. He’s all the way across the table and yet he’s all over me. I can still feel the cool tile at my back, the heat of the shower, his tongue on my neck, his rough fingers grazing my face.

Zane’s eyes linger on me and the tension begins to creep around the table.

I clear my throat and glance away. My gaze catches on Finn. The adopted Cross brother is watching everything closely. His true thoughts are hidden behind his ice-cold expression.

I’ve noticed that he doesn’t speak much. That’s more frightening than I care to admit.

Has Zane told him about us?

I’ve always suspected, but now I get the feeling that the brothers have definitely talked about me. At length.

The thought is horrifying.

Mom pinches Zane’s sleeve. “Young man, I still don’t understand how you got your uniform all wet. It’s like you ran through the rain.”

“I checked out the water pressure in the bathroom,” Zane says, eyes sliding over me. “And then things got a little… wet.”

My mouth flattens into a hard, thin line.

I press my palms on the table. “Thanks for the food, mom. We should get going or we’ll be late for school.”

“Oh, sit down and finish your plate, Gracie. You still have time.”

“Yeah,Gracie, stay.”

“Do not call me that,” I snap.

“Her friends call her Grey,” mom informs him. “She hates when anyone calls her Gracie, but it was a childhood nickname, so I can’t let it go.”

“Grey, huh?” Zane’s eyes glint in my direction.

“Sit, sit.” Mom waits until I claim my seat again.

“This food is amazing, Ms. Marian. Best I’ve ever had,” Zane says.

“Thank you.”

“Isn’t that right, Finn?” Zane elbows him.

Finn nods.

“Forgive him,” Zane chats easily. “He’s a bassist. Has to keep things mysterious.”

Mom gasps in excitement. “Oh, that’s right! You three have a band, don’t you?”

“It’s four of us actually,” Zane says, staking his fork into pancakes. “We’re called The Kings.”

“I’d love to hear you play.”

“We have a set next month,” Zane says.

“You know…” Mom wiggles her eyebrows. “I used to do a little singing in my day.”

I roll my eyes. “Mom.”

“What? It’s true? I thought I’d be a singer-songwriter. Had big dreams of heading to a big city and changing the game. And then I had Gracie.” She smiles softly at me. “Now, I only sing in the shower and while I’m working around the house.”

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