Page 18 of Heart Thief

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WHEN I LOOKback up at Zane, my cheeks pinken as I realize his eyes are unashamedly wandering up and down, checking me out. I’m wearing my skinny jeans, a flowy top, and cute ballet flats. I’ve felt cute and confident all day. But this is the first time I’ve feltlooked at. The weight of his gaze flusters me.

His bare chest and abs are still blatantly staring at me. They have no manners whatsoever.

He seems to realize he’s staring and turns his attention back to Arthur. “Articus, my main man, how’s it going?” He leans down and picks Arthur up with one hand. “Hey, buddy. You gotta stop with the shaking. You’ll never get yourself a girl this way.” Zane glances my way. “Girls sense fear and will eat you alive. Just saying.”

I cast him a smirk.

Zane kneels down, placing his cereal bowl on the floor. “Here you go, buddy. Go for it, get milk drunk. No regrets.”

Artie goes to town, lapping like he’s dying of thirst.

“I... I don’t think he should have that. It might give him the runs and...”

“Add a bit of color to the blinding white carpet? Might be an improvement.”

“Gross.” But that merits a giggle.

“Yet, so true.”

Now I know why Ryker doesn’t have the sense of humor gene. Zane took it all, leaving Ryker with nothing.

I pull myself together quickly. I don’t trust this man who has invaded my space. I have been warned about him. I take a deep breath, preparing to give him his marching orders, but I’m distracted when Zane continues to speak to Artie in a ridiculously mushy voice while he rubs his neck.

“Is that so good, Articus? So, so good, right, my little man? You’re just so gosh darn cute, yes you are.”

Ryker always talks to Arthur as though he’s having a serious conversation with an adult. It drives me crazy.

Zane goes on. “Just a tiny hunk of cuteness, that’s what you are.” He picks him up, letting Arthur give him a lick-kiss on his lips.

I love seeing a grown man make a fool of himself.

I admit, I let Artie give me a lick-kiss every once in a while. But not while Ryker’s watching. It grosses him out.

“Articus?” I ask.

“He doesn’t look like an Arthur to me.”

Not to me either. Ryker hates when I call his dog Artie. His head would explode if he heard Zane calling his dog Articus.

Both Zane and Arthur turn their attention on me. Zane says, “You gonna stand there all night?”

Zane is not exactly threatening. I’m feeling more comfortable by the moment. “Are you gonna prance around half naked all night?”

“I didn’t know I’d be having company.”

“No, let’s get one thing straight. I’m the one having company. You are invading my home.” I cover my eyes. “Can you put your abs away, please? We need to talk this out.”

Zane laughs and removes the damp towel from around his neck, tossing it on the coffee table. That right there is enough to make Ryker have a heart attack. He grabs a white v-neck t-shirt that he left discarded on the couch and quickly dons it while juggling Arthur.

He studies me. “You know, you’re not Ryker’s usual type.”

“Does Ryker have a type?”

“Yes, he does. Most of them are forever flirty, blond, spend their lives in pursuit of the perfect leather purse, and think weekly manicures are a necessity, not a want.”

I cringe. Most of them? How many have there been? “Then, no. I’m not his type. My purse is genuine faux-leather. And I’m happy with it.”

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