Page 15 of The Little Black Rose

“Zeke!”

“Fine,” I say, grabbing the tongs to pull the donuts from the hot oil. “We were arguing, and I said something stupid. She got angry, I apologized, and…I don’t know what happened. We started kissing, and that led to more.”

“What did you say that was so stupid, you felt like you needed to apologize?”

I mumble the words under my breath, and she arches a blonde brow at me, crosses her arms, and taps the toe of her shoe against the tile floor.

“Jesus, you’re annoying. I said I thought she had a sex addiction.”

Zoey’s head rears back, her arms falling limply to her sides as she stares at me with a disbelieving expression.

“Why would you say such a thing?”

“Ava was mad for some reason, and when I asked her what was up, she said she was pissed she was riding home with me instead of someone else. Someone hot. A stud.”

I can hear my voice growing deeper with each word, but I can’t stop it from happening. The memory of her words still irks me, despite the fact that I ended up making her scream my name as she came all over my cock.

“You were jealous.”

“What?” I bark, coming out of the memory of Ava’s inner walls clenching around me. “I was not.”

“Yes, you were. Oh, my God, this is classic.”

“Shut up, Zoey. I was not.”

Bright laughter peals out of her as she shakes her head and mimics me in a juvenile voice. “Shut up, Zoey. I was not.”

“Real mature,” I say, turning to drop a fresh batch of doughy circles in the fryer.

“About as mature as you pretending you feel nothing for Ava,” she fires at my back, scoring a direct hit.

I turn back to her with a frown. “I don’t feel anything.”

“You slept with her.”

“And? News flash, meaningless sex is an actual thing.”

“Wow, you really are on the defensive this morning,” she says, smirking.

“Youputme on the defensive with all these questions and accusations,” I grumble.

“Oh, please,” she says, rolling her eyes. “I know you, Zeke. You never would’ve slept with Ava if you didn’t feel something, even if you refuse to admit it to yourself.”

“There’s nothing to admit,” I say.

“Do you want this baby?” she asks, and the atmosphere between us changes as she grows serious.

“What kind of question is that? Of course, I do.”

“And what about Ava?”

“What about her?”

“Stop being an ass andtalkto me. Do you think there’s any chance something could grow between you?”

“No, Zoey,” I say, my tone growing solemn. “We barely tolerate each other.”

“Seems like you tolerated each other just fine at least once,” she says flippantly.

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