Page 69 of Fall I Want
I take it and he leads me off the porch back into the rain. It’s slamming against us and I look up at him, smiling, as he says, “Dance with me. I have a few things I promised my mom I’d do.”
I laugh, taking his hand, and he sings “September.” And I don’t think I’ll be reminded of anything else when I hear this song again, not considering the day is actually the twenty-first night of September. He spins me around as the drops sparkle down like glitter. Joy spreads over me as I join him when he starts the chorus. Zane grins wide, chuckling as I sing the high-pitchedoh oh ohs.
Our eyes lock, and I’ve never wanted someone to kiss me more than I want him to right now. My lashes flutter closed and our lips move toward one another in slow motion. Before we touch, lightning cracks behind us, and Zane is taking my hand, pulling me away.
I shiver and notice his shirt is stuck to him, every inch and ridge of his body embossed in sharp relief. “We should probably change clothes,” he mutters, grabbing the pumpkins again.
“Yeah.” I carry the rest of the things inside. We set everything down on the counter before I follow him. Zane walks through the kitchen, flicking on the lights in the living room and upstairs. With each step we leave behind wet footprints.
“Will you give me an official tour?” I ask, joining him.
“I’d love to. Let’s save it for tomorrow when the sun is up because you’ll be able to better appreciate the design with how the sunlight leaks through the windows at different times of day. It’s an experience.”
“Wow. I can’t wait,” I say, my eyes scanning my surroundings, taking in how well the decorations flow together, knowing his mom designed it. At the top of the stairs, he takes a left, and I follow him to the end of the wide hallway. I stop and stare at the double doors that stretch from floor to ceiling.
“Is this your lair? Seriously, it looks like something from a castle.”
“Good eye. It’s what they consider Gothic Oak and is from a house that was built in the fifteenth century. French, I believe.”
“It’s beautiful.” I smooth my hand across the dark carved wood, appreciating the history.
He pushes them open and we walk into a gigantic bedroom with high ceilings and two walls of windows that connect at a corner. In this room, he has the perfect view of the sunrise and sunset. “Wow,” I say, taking a step forward.
“I was thinking the same,” he says, but he’s not looking at the room, he’s zeroed in on me. Then he moves to a pocket door that blends in with the wall. He slides it open and waits for me to join him.
“You have a department store inside your house,” I say with a snicker, amazed by his well-organized closet. Then I hiccup again.
Zane chuckles, moving to a tall dresser across the space that’s as large as my loft. He pulls out a small stack of clothes and hands them to me. I’m more than ready to get out of this soggy sweater and jeans.
“The bathroom is right next door if you’d like privacy.”
“Just turn around,” I tell him, twirling my finger.
He does without question.
“What’s a deal breaker in a relationship for you?” I completely undress, removing my bra and panties, which are soaked too. I glance at the T-shirt he gave me and notice it has his name written in the corner and a number 13 on the back. One of his childhood jerseys, no doubt. Soccer, if I had to guess. I slide the soft material over my body.
“Lying. I can forgive the truth and work through it with someone I love more than a lie. And you?”
“Cheating,” I whisper. Old memories flood in about all the nights I thought Sebastian was with other women. However, it was never confirmed. During our final year of being together, I slowly became the insecure girlfriend he warned me I’d become, almost as if he planned it.
Sebastian stole my confidence, and with it, my creativity.
I slip on the pair of bottoms he gave me, seeing another numberon the leg. They’re too long and baggy around the waist but I manage. “I’m dressed.”
He turns to me and grins wide. The corners of his eyes crease. “My clothes look good on you.”
“I promise they’d look betteroffof me,” I say, shaking my head with a laugh. “Sorry. That’s the tequila talking. Ignore it.”
“It’s the devil’s drink,” he says, but his smile doesn’t fade. Zane returns to his dresser. I turn my back, giving him the same respect he offered me.
Moments later, he walks past me with a black T-shirt in his hand. The performance joggers sit low on his waist and hug his toned thighs and taper at the ankle. Muscles cascade down his back and I lose my train of thought as I admire each inch of him. He is the man of my dreams, every part of him. “You’re...”
“You’re back to eye fucking me again, Pumpkin.” He turns, catching me as he stands in the doorway before walking away. “You should really stop doing that.”
He may have said it like a warning, but I take it as an invitation.
Chapter 16
