Chapter 9
Derek
Something was off. There was someone in the house. I went from dead to the world, the dried drool on my chin and the pillow confirmed that, to wide awake and alert. Grabbing my phone, I cursed loudly. The bloody battery had died. Suddenly panicked, I jumped up and raced across the room, tripping over my discarded runners. I didn’t give a fuck. Zoe was going to call me and I’d been a dick and let the battery die. What if she needed me? What if I didn’t get there in time? What if she was counting on me and I let her down? Again.
“You okay, Derek?”
“What? How? When? Fuck, Zoe!”
I ran my hands through my hair. I was pissed. Not at Zoe, but at myself. I can’t believe I’d fallen asleep and let my phone die. She should kick my ass for that. I’d promised her. Promised I’d always be there. Promised I’d pick her up today. Promised I’d never let her down. I’d fucked up.
“Derek, it’s okay. I’m okay.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m fine.” She moved towards me, and without even thinking, I opened my arms and let her step into my outstretched arms. The moment her head settled on my chest, directly over my pounding heart, I felt calmer. She was home. She was okay.
Pushing her back, my hands were wrapped around her arms. “How did you get home? Did you take the tram?”
“I brought her home.” A sweet, soft voice from the direction of the kitchen scared the shit out of me and I hauled Zoe behind me without a word. Someone else was in our home. Since I’d moved in, no one else had stepped foot in our home.
When my eyes landed on a dishevelled Mia, I remembered to breathe. She looked like shit and completely gorgeous at the same time. She was here. In my house. And Zoe had allowed it. The cynical bastard part of me wanted to stick my head out the window and check the sky for flying pigs. Having someone here, someone other than Zoe and me, was weird. Frighteningly weird.
“I tried to call, but it kept going to voicemail, so Mia and one of the other instructors, Mackenzie, brought me home. I thought Mia could stay for dinner and then you could drive her home on your way to work?”
There was hope in her voice tinged with nerves. Looking down at her, I was trapped in her eyes and knew instantly there wasn’t anything I wouldn’t do for this girl. I already knew it, but seeing the faith and optimism in her eyes reinforced it. Without a doubt, this girl had me on my knees, and I had no hope of getting up any time soon, if ever. No wonder Spencer was so pussy whipped. With one look this girl could completely unman you. At least she did me.
“Sounds good.” I smiled, tucking Zoe under my arm and looking over at Mia.
This was the progress I’d been praying for. I wasn’t naïve enough to believe it, but damn, I could hope.
She had questions. Many, many questions. Every move I made was scrutinized, but so was Zoe’s. Something more had happened this afternoon, I knew it. The girls had a secret and I’d let them keep it. For now.
“What’s on the menu?”
“Cannelloni?”
“Spinach and ricotta?”
“Would I do anything else?” Zoe beamed up at me and everything felt better. Somehow when she was smiling, life was just easier. “Do you eat spinach and ricotta cannelloni, Mia?”
“Honestly, I don’t know. I’ve never tried it, but I’m game.”
“Great. Why don’t you two relax while I get started on dinner? You start at eight, right, Derek?”
“Yep.”
“Okay then.”
“Sounds good, Princess.”
I heard Zoe shuffle off and cupboards in the kitchen start banging before silence fell, only to be broken by her calling out, “Oh and Derek? You might want to put a shirt on!”
Fuck! I’d forgotten all about the fact I didn’t have one on. Mia was looking at me cautiously, but she didn’t seem to mind all the exposed skin, which I’ll admit made me puff out my chest a little more.
When I came back into the lounge room, I couldn’t help but stare at the sight in front of me. Mia was curled up in a tiny ball in the recliner with her head on the armrest and her eyes closed. I wasn’t sure if she was asleep or awake, but with her eyes closed it gave me a minute to just admire her. She was damn gorgeous, but she came across like she had no idea. There was something about her lean, lithe figure that I couldn’t shake from my mind. When I’d seen her at the gym, I couldn’t help but think she was hot, then at the club my eyes were glued to the denim-clad ass even before I knew who it belonged to, and now snoozing in my recliner, wearing not a scrap of makeup and without even trying, she looked more delicious than ever.
Tearing my eyes away?I didn’t want her to think I was some sort of weird creeper?I headed into the kitchen to check on Zoe, and more importantly, my dinner. When I’d first moved in with Zoe I thought, stupidly, living with a chick would be awesome. She’d cook, clean, and do all the shit I hated doing. Somehow, I’d confused moving in with a woman with moving in with Zoe. That girl could literally burn water. But over time, while she’d been basically living like a hermit, Zoe had taught herself to cook. Now we ate decent meals most nights. She still couldn’t bake for shit. Each time she craved chocolate cake, which was about once a month, she tried. Each time she ended up standing in a cloud of smoke, cursing the oven more pissed off than ever. Either it was flat or dry or not cooked in the middle or burnt to a crisp. She persisted, though. And I had to admit, I admired her for it.
