Page 86 of Wild Side
ZADIE
I’mglad I didn’t go to bed naked. Really glad, because after I stumbled sleepily to bed, I passed out immediately. I was expecting to be woken by Chase’s mouth or hands… something, but I never was. As my eyes open, and I look around, I realize he never actually came to bed anyway.
So I would have been sleeping alone and naked, and I don’t know, that just makes me feel some kind of way. Throwing my legs over the side of the bed, I sit up, staying there for a moment, just trying to wake up a little more.
I stand, move toward the door, and open it, but instead of just walking out into the hallway, I look from side to side for any sign of human life. There is nothing. Frowning, I make my way to the bathroom and take care of business, then decide to go look for Chase.
I’m leery of where I’m going to find him, though. Maybe I don’t want to know where he slept, but it’s a need. I have to, because now that my imagination has started to run a little wild, there is no way I will ever be able to not know.
The bedroom door next to ours is open, and I peek my head inside. Goose is in there, face down on the mattress, a club girl lying face up, her entire naked body on full display beside him. Wrinkling my nose at the sight, I flick my gaze around the room, and that’s when I see Chase.
He’s sitting in a chair facing the bed. His head lolled back, his lips parted, and his eyes closed. He’s asleep, but why there? He’s just a few feet from our room.
Why is he there?
Frowning, I stand there for much longer than I should, just staring at him. Wondering. A million thoughts fly around in my head, but the only thing that remains constant is why.
Why?
I stay there long enough that he must sense my stare. I watch as he turns his head toward me, smacking his lips together a few times before his eyes open. God. He’s stunning. Absolutely gorgeous, even after a night of partying and sleeping in a chair.
He blinks a few times, then his lips curve up into a smirk. “Mornin’, honey,” he rasps sleepily.
I don’t say anything. I’m not sure what to say. So, instead of speaking, my body moves. One step backward, then another, until I’m in the middle of the hallway. Wordlessly, I walk back into our shared bedroom… which is kind of a joke considering we didn’t actually share it last night.
Chase follows me, but not quickly. Every other step he takes, I hear him groan, which would be funny if I weren’t so hurt by him.
I walk into the bedroom, our bedroom, and sink down on the edge of the bed, folding my hands in my lap as I try to calm myself down. I’m fully aware that my emotions are ramped way up right now.
My mind is spinning, and I’m imagining a million different things, but at the same time, I’ve had a lot of shit going on in my life the past few weeks, completely and totally life-altering shit.
So I’m trying to remain calm and rational, but walking into that room, seeing him there, is making it difficult to be logical in any way whatsoever. I twist my fingers in my lap, my attempt at finding a distraction for my body that feels as if it’s going to implode with emotion.
“You good, Zadie?” he has the nerve to ask.
Good?
“No,” I quip. Turning my head, I lift my gaze to meet his. “I am not good.”
This time, he doesn’t ask me anything, but he dares to look at me with a confused expression on his beautiful face.
What. The.Hell?
Inhaling a deep breath, I hold it for a moment, then let it out slowly before I speak. I try to keep my tone calm. I know I don’t have the right to really ask any questions. This is a man’s world, and I’m just a woman living in it. However, it’s also something we’ve discussed, and promises were made.
“What were you doing in there like that?”
The question hangs in the air around us. It’s thick, almost like a living, breathing thing, but I don’t look away as I watch. As I wait for a response. Then the response comes, and it’s nothing I imagined.
“I don’t remember anything from last night. I was at the bar, then I was opening my eyes and looking at you.”
I don’t like that answer, but thankfully, or maybe not thankfully, he continues. “Trent and I used to…” His words trail off.
“Used to?” I ask.
He clears his throat, standing in front of me, and I watch as he shifts from foot to foot, as if he’s nervous. When he continues,it’s only after he inhales a deep breath, squares his shoulders, then lets that breath out in a slow and long exhale.
“Share women.”
