He picks me up, swinging me around. I chuckle at the sensation, all the while instructing him to put me down. When I’m placed back down on wobbly legs, he places a kiss on my mouth and whispers, “You’ll love me one day.”
He pulls me back onto the bed, into his strong arms, searing me with a kiss that makes me lightheaded.
“You’ve got it bad, Kincaid.”
“You have no idea,” he growls into my lips, and I smile, loving that for now, he’s mollified. Thoughts of his feelings for Leeanna have disappeared for the moment.
I kiss him harder, savoring the energy that flows between us. If we were both powered up, I’d deepen our connection and light the damn sheets on fire. To prove whatever is building between us is worth more than whatever he had with Lee. It’s ridiculous and childish, but it can’t be helped.
He groans. “I have to go. I won’t be long.”
“Stay,” I beg, knowing full well he can’t. Something is brewing, and we need to be in front of it. Getting the humans ready is important.
“Think you can whip up a storm today?”
I smirk. “Hail and all?”
“The bigger, the better,” he says, placing one last kiss on my mouth. “I need to recharge, and so do you.”
“I’ll work on it.”
I finish getting dressed while Zeke does the same. I’m pulling my Nikes on when he speaks.
“Tori, I know you’re still thinking about Lee, but you know that’s over, right? I’ve proven that you’re it for me, haven’t I?”
After what I witnessed last night, I couldn’t deny that a very large part of me knows he’s not being honest with himself. A larger part wants to believe that his reaction was only to her randomly showing up. I’d have the same reaction if it were Luke.
“I do,” I say, knowing that it doesn’t matter either way, because there is no chance for Lee and Zeke given their stations. He fell and she stayed.
Right now, heavy conversations aren’t a good idea. I need levity. I need to get back to the flirtatious camaraderie we had going before we took the nose-dive into Leeanna territory.
Self-preservation kicks in out of nowhere, and I’m standing up straighter, fixing my hair—for some ridiculous reason—and taking a deep breath to change tack. I won’t allow myself to go down this tragic road of pathetic.
“I know you’re mine. I was just hoping we could cement that fact by spending more time in bed.” I go for his jugular. I’ve already stooped to insecure—might as well run the gamut to seductive. Why the hell not. Seems like a good time to let my feelings take me on a wild ride to crazy town.
He grunts. “I’ve waited for two years for you to say that, and I’m not even able to bask in my winnings.”
Much to my surprise, I’m feeling better already. I make a mental note to look for a therapist. ASAP.
“I was also kind of hoping for round two of shower sex,” I continue to goad, unexpectedly emboldened.
“You’re killing me, English.”
“Angels don’t have last names.”
“We’re playing at mortal, babe. Last names are essential here.”
“And you went with Kincaid?”
“It’s a strong name. Ezekiel Kincaid.”
I giggle at his territorial attitude about his name. As sad as it is, it makes me feel wanted to have him spend his time talking to me. It’s inane, but it’s something I’ve never had. A companion. Someone to just shoot the shit with. Zeke has become that person for me. The one I want to share silly news with and spill my deepest secrets to. With the uncertainties I’m feeling, his absence will be felt twice as acutely when he finally leaves. I don’t want him to go.
Good grief, I’m pitiful.
From the giggle that’s far more girly than tolerable to the flip-flopping moods, it’s becoming clear that Earth has made me a mess.
Who am I even?
