No, I didn’t. I waved him away as best I could with my hand still around the dirty napkin. “Egomaniac.” Not kissing him was definitely for the best.
“Yeah, yeah. Can I have my hoodie back?”
Ugh. All he cared about was his jacket. I slung it off and handed it to him.
He pried that and the napkin out of my hand. His meaty fingers briefly hooked mine and sent a jolt down my spine.
“I’ll take the garbage and get out of your hair,” he said. “Drink water. Brush your teeth. See you next year, and all that.”
“What, you’re leaving?” I asked.
He shrugged the hoodie on. “I have to get back to work.”
“Oh, yeah.” I shuffled after him and played with my top straps. “Good luck with all the drunks.”
“At least one of them is off the streets.” He smirked, then glanced at my feet. “Hey, take your heels off, they’ll ruin the hardwood.”
“Excuse me.” I bent to unhook the straps and wobbled dangerously.
“Sit down, geez.” He eased me onto the couch and bent my leg so he could help me.
“Oh, aren’t you a gentleman?” I teased, but he didn’t say anything.
His neck and ears flushed red, most likely from frostbite.
We’d touched a lot tonight, and we never had in high school. It was weird. Especially to have him on one knee, tending to my feet.
He fumbled with a strap.
“Careful. Those are my money makers,” I said.
“Of course, your majesty.” The second he pulled a shoe off, my toes stung where the edges had rubbed me raw.
I hissed and winced. Party shoes were the worst.
Concern etched his face. He lightly squeezed my ankle. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” Those toes would un-bend eventually.
He glanced at the bathroom hallway. “Do you want a band-aid or antibacterial cream?”
I shook my head and raised my other leg. “This happens every holiday. They’ll be fine in a few days.”
He frowned and got to work on the other foot, gently working it free. There weren’t too many guys who’d do this without intending to bed somebody. Maybe he was controlling. Or maybe he liked my legs.
Zack hooked the heel straps with his fingers and stood. “No need to get up. I’ll place these by the entrance and lock the door on my way out. There’s just one more thing…” He swallowed hard. His gaze slipped to my lips.
Aw, did he want affection? I tilted my chin toward the light. “You can say whatever it is. Unless you’d rather show me.”
“What?” He scratched his ear.
“Happy new year,” I said, and opened my arms to him.
“H-happy new year.” He bent down for a one-armed hug and squeezed.
Part of me wanted to turn my face to meet his and find out what it was like to kiss the quarterback. We’d see if I could stop that loud mouth of his and melt his sturdy frame in an embrace.
But he didn’t shift toward me. Apparently, he had no need for a kiss. He probably wanted to get back to work and control shit.
