“Everything okay?” he asked.
“Yup,” I replied. “A woman in the restroom wanted to talk to me.”
“Someone you know?” he asked suspiciously.
“No.” I chuckled. “Women’s bathrooms are the one place we always feel comfortable talking to strangers.”
He looked at Frankie for confirmation, and she smiled. “It’s true,” she said. “Slyce said something about us all being on the same level in the bathroom. It’s why women usually go in pairs when they’re at a party.”
My daughter had my back, but I’d be a fool to think she wouldn’t grill me the moment we got home. The tension at the table assured me Zero had seen Derek follow me down the hallway. And the smirk on Frankie’s face said the same thing.
Our meals came, and we talked about nothing. Frankie carried most of the conversation, asking Zero about the club and how it was different from the Death Dogs’ clubhouse. It was a reminder of everything she had been through. More than a year of living in fear, walking on eggshells, waiting for violence to erupt.
Clay had done his best to keep us sheltered from the worst of it. I had to give him credit for that. He also wouldn’t let us leave. He’d kept us prisoners, using love and safety as an excuse.
“Who wants dessert?” Zero asked.
The entire evening I’d felt Derek’s eyes on me, and I was ready to leave. I smiled at Zero, trying not to let my discomfort show. I’d even planned to let him order dessert, though my motives weren’t pure.
When Derek asked me if I was on a date, my first instinct was to say no. Because this wasn’t a date. Not for me. But the anger in his voice, and the words that woman said... I wanted to make him jealous.
Frankie came to my rescue again and said, “I’m actually kind of tired.”
I studied her face, and she looked a little pale. “Are you feeling alright?” I asked, feeling her forehead. She wasn’t warm, but that could still mean the beginning of a virus.
“I’m just tired.”
“Then let’s get you home,” Zero insisted as he waved down the server. He paid the check, and when we stood up to leave, I turned to grab my jacket on the back of my chair, and my eyes met Derek’s. His gaze burned into me, a mixture of anger, concern, and unmistakable lust.
A chill shivered up my spine, and I looked away, focusing on my daughter; she was my priority. I wrapped my arm around her shoulder, and she leaned against me. Zero placed his hand on the small of my back, dropping it quickly when I stiffened.
The drive home was quiet, and I sat in the back with Frankie. When I checked her forehead a second time, she was a little warmer. I unlocked the door and sent her to bed, letting her know I would be right there.
Zero didn’t hesitate when I turned back to him; he leaned in for a goodnight kiss. His lips were soft, practiced. It was pleasant, but forgettable.
His hands cradled my face, and maybe I should have pulled away. Maybe I should have pushed him back instead of giving him a false sense of hope that this might go somewhere.
But I wanted to feel something similar to what Derek made me feel.
There was nothing. No fire, no desperation. No consuming need that made my knees weak and my mind go blank. In fact, my mind fixated on the kiss.
Only, it was the wrong kiss.
When he pulled back, Zero smiled. Mistaking my concession for desire. And I, in my need to be polite, smiled back.
“I’ll stop by tomorrow,” he said, brushing his thumb over my cheek. “I hope Frankie is feeling better in the morning.”
“Thank you.” The words felt hollow and unemotional, and I knew he thought my distraction was concern for my daughter. And I allowed him to think so. I didn’t correct him; I didn’t tell him there wouldn’t be anything between us because instead of standing up for myself, I allowed yet another man to believe I was interested.
Because it was easier.
Because it was safer.
Right now, here on this porch, it was safer to let him think there was more than to tell him no and risk his anger or his retribution. I had to think of my daughter first. My feelings, my desires—they didn’t matter.
It didn’t matter that Derek’s kiss had felt like I was drowning and he was the air I needed. It didn’t matter that what I felt in those few minutes, when his lips moved over mine, and the weight of his body pressed me into the wall, was more than I had ever felt in my entire life.
Because I couldn’t trust my emotions. My emotions had led me down the wrong path more than once. I felt desire for Richard in the beginning, felt security with Clay at first. I didn’t feel anything for Zero, so it made sense that he was the safer option.
