Page 65 of Grave Misgivings
I stare at the house, noting it looks no different than the last time I saw it.
It’s not ominous looking or anything, but it’s pretty large and spacious because even before my mother started managing local artists, she and my dad used to entertain a lot.
“You okay?” Zeb asks, pulling my attention.
I turn to him. The dark plum of his shirt makes his tan complexion almost golden. His green eyes stand out against the dark hair framing his face, speckled along his jaw.
He was never unattractive as a teenager, but there’s no denying he’s had the fucking glow up of the century.
New demographics, indeed.
“It’s just dinner, right?” My gaze flashes to his perfect, pink, full lips, thinking about Mateo and Dare’s words.
You got this.
Zeb nods. “Don’t worry, if things go south, I got your back,” he says, offering me a small smile.
And for the moment, that’s enough.
We climb out of the truck and Zeb comes around to my side with an encouraging smile on his lips.
Zeb sets his hand on the small of my back, giving me a nudge.
Katy all but crashes into us.
“Oh my God!” She squeals as she throws her arms around me. “Look at you!”
Zeb laughs, but he doesn’t remove his hand.
When my mom and dad round the corner, I don’t miss the look of happiness on their faces.
Zeb drops his hand, and immediately, I feel the emptiness, my skin still burning from the heat of his palm through my shirt.
“Welcome home, baby,” my mother says as she pulls me into her arms.
Reflexively, I lift my arms to hold onto her as she kisses me on my cheek.
I flash my gaze at Zeb who offers me a reassuring smile, and I close my eyes and wrap my arms around my mom, and pray to make it through this dinner unscathed.
After dinner,a couple glasses of wine, and a healthy helping of my mother’s apple pie, I am more than ready to crash.
Zeb opens the car door for me, and I relax instantly once the door is shut.
“Now, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” he asks, casting me a sexy smile.
I look at him in the amber light of his truck, the way the shadows fall across his face.
God, he is gorgeous.
“Guess not,” I reply as he turns the car on.
He nods to the radio dial. “You pick this time,” he says softly.
I reach for the dial, fiddling until I find a station I like. I stop when I hear Kenya Grace’sStrangers,my thoughts falling back to his voice, the way he sang“We’ll get in your car and you’ll lean to kiss me...”so fuckingperfectly.
I watch him as he drives, one sizable arm resting on his windowsill, while his other hand palms the steering wheel.
I can’t take my damn eyes off of him.
