Page 29 of The Little Black Rose

Just imagining it has me squeezing my thighs together. I take a too-large bite of my pizza in an attempt to distract myself, and my eyes go wide as I struggle to keep my mouth closed while chewing. Zeke watches me the whole time, and I feel my face heat.

“Are you okay?”

“Mm-hmm,” I hum around the food I’m desperately trying to swallow.

“I really want this to work, but if you’re having second thoughts, please share them with me. We have to be able to communicate effectively with each other.”

“No second thoughts,” I say when I finally manage to push the wad of chewed dough down my throat. I take a quick drink of water before speaking again. “It’s going to be a challenge for both of us, at first. I’ve never lived with a roommate before, and it’s been a long time for you. But I think we can make it work.”

“I think so, too,” he says, giving me a smile that makes my heart stutter.

Jesus. He’s acting like the old Zeke, the one I crushed on when I was young, and I don’t know how to handle it. As much as I’ve lamented the sullen, standoffish man he became after he broke up with Samantha, I know how to handle that version of him. Butthisversion? This version reminds me of the gangly, awkward teenager I was, the one whom he never knew idolized the ground he walked on.

I grew out of my awkwardness in my mid-twenties, becoming the independent,usuallyconfident woman I am today. But by that point, it was too late. Zeke had been broken by whatever happened between him and Samantha, and he kept everyone besides his sister at an arm’s length.

It was like he completely shut down. Frustration spurred me to poke and prod him, hoping for some kind of reaction. Like maybe my insults and snark would unlock the chained doors he’d hidden behind. But my jabs only made him jab back, and our relationship devolved into one of mutual dislike.

I miss you, God damn it. I fucking miss you.

My words from the car that night, the ones that spurred him into kissing me, ring in my ears. They are as true now as they were then, but now that he’s showing me bits and pieces of his old self, I don’t know how to handle it.

And the fucking pregnancy hormones are screaming at me to “handle” it by rounding this table and climbing onto his lap. To grind on his cock and shove my swollen, aching tits into his mouth, one after the other, again and again until I scream with my release.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” I murmur, letting my eyes fall closed.

“What?”

My eyes fly back open as I gasp. Shit. I said that out loud.

“Nothing. I’m fine. Everything’s fine.”

Smooth, Ava. Real smooth.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. I’m good,” I say, giving him what I hope is a believable grin. “I was just thinking about all the work it’s going to take to get you moved in.”

There. Nice save, if I do say so myself.

“You won’t be doing any lifting,” he says. “I’ll get the guys to help.”

“I have a guest room that’s fully furnished,” I say, clutching onto the new topic in the hopes that it’ll distract me from the clenching need in my core. “You won’t need to bring your furniture, unless you’re really attached to it.”

“I can get a storage locker,” he says, nodding thoughtfully.

“Or you could just keep your apartment,” I suggest. He arches a blond brow, and I plow ahead before he can argue with me. “We need to make sure we can make this work before you give it up. What if we can’t stand living with each other? I know you want to be here, and I want you here, too, but wanting doesn’t always make things doable. If we drive each other crazy and realize it’s not going to work, don’t you think it would be good to have your own place still available?”

He stares at me for several long moments, then slowly nods. “That makes sense.”

I release the breath I’ve been holding. “Good. Then, it’s settled.”

“I just don’t want you to think I have one foot out the door, here, Ava. I’m in this thing with you, one hundred percent. I intend to make it work. Our family is worth whatever it takes.”

And there go the hormones again, spiking the heat inside me until I can barely stand it. Zeke calling us a family and vowing his loyalty nearly threw me over the edge of reason. He has no idea how close I am to attacking him right now.

“How does tomorrow sound?”

“For what?” I ask, his question catching me off-guard as I pray he didn’t notice me staring hungrily at his mouth.

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