“Careful,” he said, picnic basket bumping against his left leg. Rachel walked on his right, the farthest from the street. Don’t want her wandering out there in my dark sweatshirt. “Here.” He swung his right arm around her, keeping her in a loose but protective hold. “Don’t even wanna hear it. Consider this for your own good.”
She looked up, hood slipping off her head. “Huh?”
They stopped at a crosswalk. “You didn’t hear any of that?”
“No.”
“You don’t care that I’ve got my arm around you right now?”
“You do?” Rachel laughed. “I don’t even feel it. This sweatshirt is huge.”
The light turned green. Only three quarters of a mile to go.
“Thanks for coming to the movie, by the way,” Rachel said. “Sorry I forgot to mention my other friends were coming. Like I said, it was a last minute decision.”
“No worries. I enjoyed myself.”
“You did?”
“Yes.”
Rachel shook her head in disbelief. “You’re kind of a mystery to me.”
“How’s that?”
“I feel like I could throw anything at you, and you’ll go along with it.”
“Perhaps that is a good way to describe me. Very go with the flow type.” Zack absentmindedly squeezed her shoulder with his tightening hand. “But next time I’m deciding what we do.”
“So we are meeting again?”
Zack scoffed. “Of course we are?” Are you kidding me? Is she used to people dumping her for no reason at all? Then again, how many people – let alone women – had Zack dumped with no warning over the years? Too many. I should change my ways. He only thought that halfheartedly. “We’re friends, aren’t we?”
“Starting to think I hang out with you more than I do my other friends…”
Zack needed to change the topic, fast. “So how did you meet your friend from the café?”
“Parvati?” Only took half a mile of walking toward downtown for Rachel to wake up. “I met her at that café a couple years ago. She’s been working there longer.” They stopped at another light. “We got to talking, and it turned out we both enjoyed a lot of the same things. Next thing I knew, I was having dinner with her family and having old bootleg Bollywood DVDs dumped in my bag because they didn’t want them anymore. Rest is history, I guess.”
“So they got you into that stuff?”
“Yes and no. I said we had a lot in common already. A love for Indian cinema was the tip of the iceberg.”
I think you’re the real mystery here, Rachel Taylor. Zack lowered his arm now that Rachel was awake again. “Interesting.”
“Did you like the movie?”
“Sure. Very colorful.”
Rachel laughed in admonishment. “You didn’t understand any of it, huh?”
“Not a lick.”
“All right.” Rachel hoisted her blanket back up her shoulder. “Sometime soon I’m bringing the DVD over to your place so you can properly see it.”
“Over to my place?”
Rachel shrugged. “That’s what friends do, right?”
Zack tried to imagine having Rachel over to his apartment. The one overlooking the marina. The one next door to the studio he had personally renovated to suit his tastes, knowing full well that the resell value would be shit since he got rid of two bedrooms and half the kitchen. The one that called billionaire heiresses like Kathryn Alison a next door neighbor, and that was perfectly expected.
Rachel would look good in that apartment, wouldn’t she? Right there on his leather couch, curled up in his sweatshirt and munching on popcorn while watching her favorite Bollywood movie. Zack’s fantasy stopped there. “All right,” he said. “Let’s do it.”
“Really?”
“But not as our next friend date. I’ve got something else in mind.” Wait, that came out wrong. “Er, I mean some other activity. That is… I mean…”
Rachel jerked her thumb in the other direction when they reached the next intersection. “My building’s at the end of this block.”
He walked her to the lobby. No security. Not even a front desk. There was a relatively nondescript door with the word OFFICE painted on it, but beyond that, there was no way to tell that this was an apartment building aside from a few brochures asking potential renters to read it.
Rachel got out her keys. “Thanks for coming out with us. I got it from here.”
Zack cleared his throat.
“Yeah?”
He pointed to his sweatshirt still on her body.
“Oh, uh…” Rachel almost pulled it over her head, but her hands faltered on the hem of Zack’s sweatshirt. “Tell you what. I’ll give it back to you next time we meet up. Consider it an incentive to hang out with me again.”
“Like I need one?”
Rachel blushed. Why was she blushing?
“So, um…” She turned toward the stairwell. Is there no elevator? This building’s five stories tall. She better not live above the second floor… “I’ll see you next time.”
The way she walked, spoke, and carried herself suggested something. Deep in the more perverted recesses of Zack’s brain, he recognized it. The look a woman has at the end of a first date. He rubbed his stubble and considered his options.
Rachel was cute. Devilishly, irresistibly cute in that baggy sweatshirt.
She was also amusing to talk to and always kept Zack on his conversational toes. Who knew what she would suggest they do next time? She didn’t seem the adventurous type, but perhaps a zipline was in their future.
She was also hot. That was different from cute.
We could be friends, Rachel Taylor. Zack took one step after her. Or we could be more than that. Like we’re meant to be.
He didn’t know why he thought that so confidently. Probably for the same reason he thought that when they first met. The moment he saw her, Zack knew she was special. How much? A hot lay? A few interesting coffee dates? A new model for his next collection? A little bit of all three?
No. She was different from the other women he usually had those thoughts about. Yet she wasn’t different at all. She still inspired him to ask her out right away, hadn’t she? But that was Zack’s natural inclination when it came to beautiful women who inspired him to act.
Like right now.
“Rachel.”
He stopped himself from doing more. Not because he was suddenly slapped with the morality stick, but because he didn’t want to scare her away. I have a feeling that grabbing and kissing her would be a bad, bad idea. Rachel had erected a firm boundary between them for a reason. Zack didn’t know why. Maybe she had been burned in a recent relationship. Maybe she wasn’t into sex. Maybe she really was gay and simply playing with his head.
She didn’t owe him an answer. She didn’t owe him anything.
Damn.
“Yeah?” She turned around, one hand held up to her mouth. The sweatshirt sleeve slipped down her arm. A woman had never looked more enticing in a baggy sweatshirt… let alone Zack’s baggy sweatshirt.
You should be in my apartment right now. Zack pushed those thoughts away. Or we should be in your apartment right now. We should be in bed, having sex while I piece together why I’m so attracted to you.
What if he was only attracted to her because his brain had twisted her actions as some game of hard to get?
He took a step back. “Have a good night.”
Rachel came after him.
Ho boy. She was coming after him. What had she forgotten? Something she wanted to tell him? Something…
“You too.”
She stood up on her tiptoes and planted a light kiss on his cheek.
It was friendly. Sweet. The kind of kiss a little sister would give her big brother after a fun day out together. There was no reason for that kiss to destroy every lick of common sense in his brain.
It didn’t help that his whole body shook in anticipation. Or that his brain fried as if left in the summer sun all day. Or that his other brain woke up and asked where the party was.
Right here, asshole. Her name was Rachel Taylor, and Zack wanted her more than he had wanted any other woman that year.
Perhaps in his life.
“Hey!”
She said that, yet the rest of her words were muffled. Because Zack was a monumental dumbass who couldn’t get a hold of himself.
He had to kiss her. Now.
Rachel shoved him away from her the moment his lips landed on hers. He was not shocked when she smacked his arm with enough aggression to get the point across.
Shit. He had fucked up. Bad.
“Rachel, I’m sorry.” He turned around. Shame? Was that what he felt? I never feel shame! How embarrassing. That too! “Shit!”
Zack wanted to show himself out. Go home. Nurse his ego and maybe send another apologetic message to Rachel, while hoping for the best. Whatever. He had fucked up. This was the end of their short, friendly tryst. With any luck, Rachel didn’t know any big, burly guys who owed her some favors. Zack was strong, but he didn’t have any black belts.
Shit!
A small hand wrapped around his before he could grab the door handle and escape into the night. When he turned around again, he found Rachel.
Coming for him.
Ah, well, he probably deserved whatever she was about to do to him. Slap him across the face. Punch him in the nuts. Bash a chair over his head. Mace, right in the eyes. That would show his privileged ass what he could get away with.