Page 81 of The Hearts We Fumble
But just as his thumb circles my clit, sending a wave of electricity through me, the phone rings again.
Zane exhales sharply, pulling back. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I should check in case it’s urgent.”
I bite my lip, frustration pooling in my gut as he reaches for his phone. He barely glances at the screen before muttering another curse.
“It’s my sister,” he says, already pressing accept. “Myla, what’s wrong?”
His brows furrow as he listens, and my stomach twists. Whatever she’s saying, I can tell it’s not good.
“What do you mean you can’t find her?” His voice sharpens.
A knot forms in my throat. “Find who?” I mouth.
Zane lifts a single finger, but my stomach clenches at the sight of it, slick from where he just had it inside me.
His jaw tightens. “Well, she couldn’t have gone far, right? Where are you?”
I strain to make out the muffled female voice on the other end, but I can’t place it.
Then I hear Zane mutter, “Alpha Nu?”
His eyes flash to mine, dark with anger. “I’m on my way.”
My body goes cold.
Zane immediately starts moving, grabbing his keys, his movements frantic.
I hop off the counter, yanking my jeans up. “What’s going on?”
“My sister,” he breathes, still searching for his shoes. “She went to a party, and her friend Katie called—said she lost her. She can’t find her anywhere, and she has Myla’s phone.”
My pulse pounds. “She’s at Alpha Nu?”
He nods, the tension rolling off him in waves. “I need to get there. Now.”
“Do you want me to come with you? Maybe I can help.”
“No.” His voice is clipped, but his hands are gentle as he drags his fingers through my hair. “You stay here. Dish up some food and wait for me. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
He kisses me quickly, but there’s an urgency behind it, like he doesn’t want to leave.
“I’m sorry, baby,” he murmurs against my lips. “I promise I’ll make this up to you.”
“Zane, don’t worry about me,” I whisper, cupping his face. “Go find your sister. She’s what matters right now.”
His shoulders relax slightly at my words, but the storm in his eyes doesn’t ease.
One last kiss—quick but deep—then he’s out the door, locking it behind him.
And I’m left standing in the kitchen, my body still trembling and my mind spinning.
Chapter Nineteen
Zane
I slam my palm against the steering wheel, the sharp sting barely registering through the frustration coursing through me.
“Fucking hell, Myla,” I grit out, pressing on the gas.
