I saunter over, putting an extra swing in my hips. "Are those for me?"
He holds out the flowers. "Pink. Like your milkshakes."
I double over laughing, the sound echoing across the parking lot. "You think I drink strawberry milkshakes because they're pink?"
His brow furrows, lips pursing as he stares at the bouquet.
Fuck.
Now I feel like an asshat. This must be one of those things that doesn't compute. Because he can't taste food properly, he probably connected the color to the preference instead of the flavor.
Pushing up onto my toes, I press a soft kiss to his lips. "Thank you for the flowers. They're beautiful, and I didn’t mean to laugh."
He captures my mouth and our next kiss quickly turns heated because, apparently, neither of us has any chill. His hands grip my hips, pulling me between his legs as I moan into his mouth, my free hand fisting in his shirt. The roses get slightly crushed between us, but I could care less.
"We need to go." He pulls back slightly.
I whine, chasing his lips, my dick already half-hard. "Five more minutes?"
"Now." He slides off the hood in one fluid motion, then places a hand on the small of my back as he steers me toward the passenger side.
With a dramatic sigh, I drop into the seat after he opens the door. "Where are we going anyway?"
"It's a surprise."
He closes my door, then rounds the front of the car. Once in the driver’s seat, he starts the engine, which comes to life with a low, steady purr. I settle into the heated leather seat, but my eyes keep straying to his profile.
There’s a slight tension in his jaw, a subtle tautness in his shoulders as if he's nervous. It's kind of adorable.
As we pull out onto the main road, I drum my fingers against my thigh. Silence always makes me uncomfortable. “So, about the gag thing. . .”
“What about it?”
I twist in my chair to face him, the seat belt digging into my neck. “Why’s it a hard limit?”
Zach stares out the windshield, but his hands tighten on the steering wheel. “Used it once and hurt someone I care about. Couldn’t read his body language.”
“Couldn’t or didn’t?”
“Both.”
His nostrils flare even if his tone is flat. The subject bothers him. I really need to learn more about his brain damage. Need to understand his limitations. The last thing I want is to put him in a situation that causes him distress.
Chewing on the inside of my lip, I continue to stare at him. Maybe it’s not just about his brain but who he hurt.I can count the people Zach cares about on one hand . . . maybe two, if I include myself.
Raiyne is definitely not one of them, which means. . . “Was it Viktor?”
He nods.
Of course, it adds to my already complicated feelings about the touch-feely-bitch. Sure, I’m obviously a jealous psychopath when it comes to Zach. But I also know he needs someone to watch out for him during away games.
Except now I know Viktor got hurt, and in a way that eats at my stepbrother. Yet, he’s remained by Zach’s side as his friend.
Ugh, Eli’s right.
The jackass grows on you. Still, I maintain it’s like a fungus. But he’s . . . a good guy.
I gag at the thought.
