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I finish and wash myself off, though I still don’t feel clean by the time I climb out of the shower again. I think it will be hard to feel clean again, not for a long time. Not until I can get all of these dirty memories of the weekend out of my head. Which at the moment feels like it might be never. How could I forget the hottest weekend of my life?

I dress in jeans and a blouse—casual but not totally lazy. I still want to look hot. Mostly because I want him to regret what he’s missing out on. But still.

My doorbell rings at 10:02pm. Got to give him that, he’s prompt.

I answer it and freeze on the threshold, stunned by the size of the bouquet he’s holding.

“Zayne…” I start, but he’s already handing it to me. It’s a mixed bouquet, made of white flowers dotted here and there with colorful roses, a mix like I’ve never seen before. It smells amazing, and the moment I accept the vase, my whole apartment seems to brighten with the color of the flowers. Still. That’s just one small gesture.

But I can’t deny that it loosens the tight knot in my chest somewhat.

“Come in,” I call over my shoulder with a sigh as I set the vase down on my kitchen counter. The jerk is winning me over already and I’ll bet he knows it, cocky bastard. I keep my gaze on the flowers as he shuts the door behind him.

“Clove, I just want to say how sorry I am for all of this. You were right.”

I turn to look at him now, and am surprised to find his eyes over-bright, fixed on mine with an expression of pleading in them.

“I should have told you about all of this from the start. I should have let you know it was a possibility. And I definitely shouldn’t have asked you for that selfie, not when I knew this could happen. It’s just, it’s been years since this has happened, so I thought it was over, I thought we were done with this goddamn dance now.”

“Dance?” I raise an eyebrow.

He shakes his head. “Something I used to say with… With her.” He grimaces. “You were right about that too. I should have just told you the truth when you asked me, in the café earlier today. I just… I didn’t want to admit to it. I thought you’d judge me, especially since…” He shakes his head again, harder. “No. No more excuses.” He swallows hard, with what looks like real effort, and meets my eye again. “Remember when you asked me why I’m still single?”

I nod. Of course I do. “You acted really strange about it,” I point out.

He laughs faintly, with no real humor behind it. “Well, because it’s a really strange situation. I was… I was dating someone a few years ago. We were together for three years. At first I was really into her, she seemed so attentive, so nice and caring. But things got… Strange. The longer it went on, the more red flags popped up. I realized that things weren’t working out, and I tried to end it.”

“Tried?” I raise an eyebrow.

“Well. I did end it. Two and a half years ago. But she didn’t… She didn’t accept it.”

“What do you mean?” I lean against the counter. The scent of the flowers catches in my nose again, and I sigh faintly, distracted by the pleasant smell.

“She started following me everywhere. To my old job, to home. Any time I went out with anyone else, even just friends, she’d get their phone numbers and call them, harass them, try to get them to tell her who I was with and what I was doing. She was even worse to anyone I was dating. After the first few dates, when she stole the girls’ phone numbers and wrote them on bathroom walls, I cut off all contact with her. Changed my phone number, left my old job, hell, I even moved.”

My eyebrows rise, if possible, even higher. “You changed jobs and moved because of her?”

“Not exactly because of her, really. I’d been thinking of making changes in my life. I was dragging my feet before, delaying because it scared me. Her creepy behavior just gave me the final push I needed to get out of my routine and change things up. But…” He sighs and gazes at the flowers with a forlorn expression.

“But?” I prompt, when he doesn’t speak again for a long moment.

“She found me.”

“Here?” My mouth drops open. No wonder he’s still single, if this is what he thinks women are like. If this is what he’s had to deal with in his life already.

He’s nodding, a grimace on his face. “She works in tech, so stalking me, finding where I worked and lived, then trying to find whoever I was dating, it’s her professional skillset. The first few dates I went on after we broke up, she pulled this exact stunt. Stole photos of the girls—some of them nudes, some of them just regular pictures that she edited and Photoshopped to look like the girls were naked. She posted them everywhere, harassed the women, started fake websites like she did with yours.” Zayne groans and runs a hand through his hair. “I had to file a restraining order. We got everything set down legally. After that, I hadn’t heard a thing from her. It’s been over a year since she did this to anybody, and I’ve been on a few dates since then. I figured the danger had passed. She hasn’t tried to ruin any other girls’ lives in a year, so I didn’t even think to warn you…”

I groan and press my fingers to my temples, massaging. “Shit, Zayne. I’m so sorry that you had to deal with that.”

“No. I’m sorry.” He catches my wrists. Draws my hands away from my forehead to fold them in his instead. “You shouldn’t have to pay for my past mistakes. You shouldn’t be suffering for my problems.”

“You shouldn’t either,” I counter, my lower lip trembling. “I can’t imagine what all of that was like…”

He laughs faintly, bitterly. “That wasn’t even the tip of the iceberg. God, there was the time she set my car on fire…”

“She what?”

“The time she tried to poke holes in all the condoms, back when we were still together—”

“Fuck, Zayne.”

“I’m sorry, Clove. I’m a mess. I’m messed up, after all of that. I should have told you, but it was so…” He shuts his eyes. I fight the urge to kiss him, to kiss away the pain that’s written so obviously across his face. “Embarrassing, really. And just, an old wound I hate reopening. I didn’t know how to explain, how to talk about it. And I don’t know why she would do this now, why she would come back to try and hurt you.”

I give in to the urge and press a faint kiss to the corner of his mouth. “It’s okay. I mean, it’s not okay that you didn’t tell me the truth, but I understand why you hesitated.”

He opens his eyes to meet mine. Runs a hand through my hair, smoothing it back from my forehead. “I should have trusted you.”

“We don’t know one another that well yet,” I point out.

He shakes his head so hard his hair flops across his forehead, almost into his eyes too. “We do, Clove. I know it’s crazy, I know we’ve only been talking like this for a few days, only seeing each other up close for that long, but it feels like I’ve known you forever already. It feels like this is right, this is where we’re meant to wind up.”

I can feel myself nodding, agreeing. “That’s why it hurt when you didn’t tell me about your ex. When I found out someone had leaked photos like this before around you…”

“I know. I get it, Clove, really. And I never meant to hurt you. I swear I won’t again.”

I can hear myself laughing. “All this from a stupid dating app.”

He laughs, too. “You know, much as I’m glad it helped us find one another…” He smooths my hair back again, gazes into my eyes. “I’m deleting that app tonight. I don’t need it anymore.”

My breath catches in my throat. “Me too,” I hear myself whispering.

His smile widens. But then it catches, snags, sags a little. “I just don’t want to hurt you, to hurt your career, over this mistake.”

“You were right too,” I counter, shaking my head now. “We’ll figure this out. Especially now that we know who’s behind this.”

“Clove, I don’t know what to say…”

“Then don’t,” I suggest. Then his lips are on mine, and I don’t need another apology. This is explanation enough. I collide with him, let my head fall to one side and my mouth part as his lips work against mine and his tongue slips between my lips to tangle with my own. He knows me already, after just three days. Knows how to kiss me, how to turn his head at the right moment to deepen that kiss, and how to wrap his arms around my waist and lift me against him so that I can forget everything else in the world except for the feeling of his arms around me.



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