She rolls her eyes at me. “I’m not explaining it to you,” she huffs out as I lift my hand to touch my thumb to her cheek. “You have to go out there. I have to go out there, and then later on?—”
“No,” I shake my head, “I’m not letting you out of my sight.”
“You know where I live,” she snaps at me. “Even if I wanted to run away, how far do you think I’m going to get?”
“Thirty minutes,” I agree. “Thirty minutes and I’m out of here and you are going with me.”
“Thirty minutes,” she agrees, and I kiss her lips gently before letting her go. “I’m going to go out there first,” she starts, “and then in thirty minutes, you come and say goodbye to us and I’ll ask you for a ride.”
I nod at her as she moves away from me and my hand slides into hers as she walks by me, pulling her back to me. “Thirty minutes, Victoria.” The hand holding her hand comes up to hold her jaw. “Not a minute longer.” I give her one more kiss before she walks out of my office. I look down at my feet, giving it a few minutes before I step out of my own office, the last thing I want is her being in the center of gossip.
I walk back out and see the crowd has dwindled and after twenty minutes, I’m done. I walk over to Jaxon, who is by the ball pit with Ariella and Victoria. “Hey,” I say, “I’m heading out.”
“I think we’re going to go too,” Jaxon replies. “It’s almost time for this guy to eat.”
I look at Victoria and I was not kidding when I said she’s coming with me. I will throw her over my fucking shoulder if I have to. She stands up. “Maybe I can catch a ride with you,” she says to me, “so they don’t have to go out of their way.”
“Sure,” I agree.
“What if it’s out of his way?” Jaxon now says.
“I have nothing to get home to. I have the time. See you on Monday,” I tell Jaxon. I hold out my hand for Victoria to walk with me before he asks questions or thinks too much about it.
“See you guys tomorrow, I think,” she says, giving Jagger a kiss and then walking side by side with me out of the event.
“That was smooth,” she teases, looking at me, “and you said thirty minutes.”
“You’re lucky I lasted as long as I did,” I tell her as we walk into the garage and head over to my SUV. We don’t say anything the whole ride to my house or as I park in the garage and then get out.
I hold the door that leads into the house open for her as she steps in, placing her purse down by the door. “Okay.” She inhales. “Let’s do this.”
She steps into the house, going to the living room and I follow her. My hands grip her hips, and I pull her to me, needing to taste her again. “Let’s do this, Victoria,” I declare before I kiss her. This time she pushes away and stands in front of me. All I want is to touch her, to have my hands on her, so I do it. “Well, talk,” I urge, “but I have to touch you while we talk.”
“No, Zane.” She shakes her head. “If you touch me, I’m going to forget what I have to say and then we’ll be back at square one tomorrow.”
“Five minutes to get it all out, and then all bets are off.”
“You can’t put a time limit on a discussion that we are having,” she snaps.
“I just did.” I take out my phone. “Set timer for five minutes,” I say as I pull up my timer.
“You are incredible.” Her voice goes louder and louder. “You don’t talk to me for what… a month?”
“Twenty-four days,” I correct her and her mouth hangs open. “Yeah, I was counting.”
She blinks. “Okay, you want to do this like this. Hostile, let’s do it. First time was a casual hookup.” She folds her arms over her chest, and my jaw gets tight. “Second time we knew each other a bit more. Now it’s becoming a pattern.” She looks at me, and I want to touch her. “I’m not interested in being a random hookup when you get horny.”
The look becomes a glare as I growl out, “Don’t ever fucking talk about yourself like that, ever again.” My voice is tight, surprising her, and I put my hands on my hips.
“Well, we need to call a spade a spade and this…” she points to me and then herself, “this is a spade.”
“I don’t even know what the fuck you are talking about,” I say, walking to her to take off her jacket and sit her on the couch with me. I reach for her jacket, but she moves away from my hands, and I groan as I look at the ceiling.
“This is the last time you zigzag”—she points at me, and I grab her finger, kissing it—“or pivot.”
“Pivot?” I ask, confused.
“Yeah, no more pivoting,” she snaps. “You’ve walked away from me four times.” She holds up her hand.
