Page 69 of Heated
“Hey, what’s good?” Jordan appears at my side again, wearing his trademark wide bad-boy grin. “Nice to see you again, Zora.”
“You too, Jordan.”
“My, my, you’re keeping quite the interesting company today,” her mother murmurs.
Jordan switches his smile and attention to Monica. “If byinterestingyou mean gorgeous, rich, and gifted, then yes, you’re right. She’s been leveling up.”
Despite the outrageous arrogance of that reply, Monica smiles up at him.
“I didn’t have the opportunity to meet you earlier,” she says. “But I want to personally thank you for investing in our students. Especially when so many aspire to be you. Having this chance to listen and talk to you—it means the world to them. I appreciate you sacrificing your time for them.”
“Of course,” Jordan says, dipping his chin. “I’m just paying it forward. If someone hadn’t done the same for me when I was younger, I might not be where I am today.” His grin returns. “We were just headed out to grab some food. Did you two want to join us? My treat.”
Finally, I glance at Zora.
And the vestiges of panic in her eyes before she lowers her lashes have me curling my fingers into my palms. Somehow, I doubt she wants me reaching out and hauling her into my arms in front of her mother and Jordan. But especially her mother. So I tuck my hand in my pocket to further prevent me from making that mistake.
“I’m sorry, Jordan,” Zora murmurs. “I already have plans that I should be leaving for in the next few minutes. But thank you for the invitation.”
“Really? You didn’t mention these plans before.” Monica arches an eyebrow. “They’re pretty convenient all of a sudden.”
“It’s not convenient at all. But I’m glad I could help out today, Mom.” She ignores her mother’s direct barb, leans in, and kisses her cheek. Straightening, she gives me and Jordan a polite, small smile. “Cyrus, Jordan.”
Then she turns and walks the few feet to the exit and pushes through the doors, disappearing to the other side.
“She didn’t deserve that.”
Her mother glares at me, and if it wasn’t for a flash of guilt in her eyes, I might’ve written her off.
“You don’t know us,” she snaps.
Right. Doubling down.
“You’re right. I just met you, and I’ve only known your daughter for a short while. But in that short amount of time I’ve become acquainted with a woman of strength, integrity, and loyalty. So I’ll repeat—she didn’t deserve that.” Turning to Jordan, I hike my chin. “I’ll meet you outside.”
And with one last look at Monica, I follow in her daughter’s wake. There’s no sign of Zora in the parking lot, and there’s the primal animal in me that snarls to go after her, make that hurt, that edge of panic in her eyes, disappear by whatever means are at my disposal. My words, my arms, my body. My cock.
But it’s her decision to come to me, and I’ll respect that.
Even if it kills me.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
ZORA
There’s a word for me.
Idiot.
Moron.
Dumb as a box of rocks.
Though that last one’s a phrase, it still fits.
Because it takes a total lack of sense for me to be sitting outside of Cyrus’s house at ten o’clock at night. I press my forehead against the steering wheel. Serves me right if someone called the neighborhood watch. How would I explain my presence?
Hi, Officer. I promise I’m only contemplating a little ill-advised hot sex, not a B&E.
