Chapter 15

Chapter Fifteen

Autumn

I take a step forward and Zane removes the plastic from the top of the intricate bottle of tequila, then pops off the white cap. Pink flowers and vines intricately trail up the sides. It looks like it was once displayed behind a glass case. “Wow,” I whisper, trailing my fingers across it.

“It’s a handcrafted, hand-painted Talavera carafe. Extremely limited edition and all the proceeds go toward fighting breast cancer.”

“You should save this for a special occasion,” I offer.

“I did.” There is zero hesitation in his voice.

He pulls shot glasses from a cabinet, opens the bottle, and pours them full. “No lime or salt needed. It’s smooth. I’m convinced it’s hangover-proof. Hence why it’s one of my favorite tequilas in the world.”

“Oh, I wish you wouldn’t have told me that. What if I hate it?”

“Then the fake engagement is off.” He winks.

We shoot them back. It tastes incredible, refreshing in a way. Tequila like this will get me in trouble or naked. Fuck, maybe both.

“What does your palate say?” he asks.

“It’s wonderful.” I stare at the bottle. “Is it pricey?”

“Only five,” he tells me, refilling our glasses.

“Hundred?” If so, it’s the most expensive thing I’ve ever drank.

“ Thousand. ”

“Seriously?” I nearly choke on the second shot.

“You’re fucking cute.” He pours himself another and I move my glass forward, allowing him to fill mine again.

“This is dangerous.” I meet his eyes.

“It’s as easy as drinking water.”

“I’m not talking about the tequila,” I say, and he fully understands.

“We forgot to toast.” He smirks, holding up his. “To us.”

“To us .” I shoot it back and set it on the counter.

My body buzzes, and it’s not from the alcohol, though that’s helping. The five-minute alarm dings, pulling us away.

Zane grabs two mitts and flips the seeds, then returns them to the oven.

“Ten more minutes,” I say, reaching for the bottle, contemplating drinking more.

“I’m keeping up with your pace. But at this rate, we’ll both be shitfaced before we finish our pumpkins,” he mutters with a brow flicked upward.

Fuck, I cannot handle him looking at me like that. But somehow, I keep my composure as his closeness drags me under.

“We should play a game,” I tell him, smiling, even if my cheeks feel numb.

“Truth or dare?” he sarcastically asks.

“No. It’s called twenty-one questions. We get to ask each other twenty-one burning questions. And you have to answer the ones you ask.”

“Wouldn’t that be considered forty-two questions?”

I chuckle. “Smart ass.”

“And what happens if one of us refuses?”

“Then a piece of clothing gets removed,” I admit, making that part up. However, I’m curious to see what he’s hiding under those clothes that hug his body.

A mischievous grin meets those gorgeous lips and he holds out his hand. “Deal.”

I take it and we shake, sealing it.

“I have no limits,” he warns. “I hope you don't either.”

Fuck. I grab the bottle, knowing I need more of this. Another shot down. Now, how many are we in? Four? Five? More? There is no turning back now. I’m in too deep.

“Go first,” he offers with narrowed eyes. It’s a warning, a temptation. “Ask me anything. ”

I stare into his blue eyes, wondering about his deepest, darkest desires.

“Let me note, this is fucking exclusive. You’re the only person on this planet who has ever had the privilege.”

“Well then, I consider myself lucky.” My alarm rings, but he takes care of flipping and returning the seeds to the oven. I hop up on the counter, swinging my legs, and he moves toward me as I admire every inch of him.

He's artwork in human form with his dark, messy hair and bright blue eyes. Not to mention his deep voice that nearly brings me to my knees. Yep, I’m drunk.

“What was your first love like?” I ask.

“Interesting question. Not what I expected you to start with.”

“I'd like to know your origin story. I’m curious. About everything .”

Zane licks his lips and his eyes pin me in place. “I haven’t thought about that in a long time. It was temporary. Fun. We snuck around my family’s home in the Hamptons before I left for Princeton. I would’ve changed the trajectory of my life for her, but I was nothing more than a summer fling. She was almost twenty-three.” He pauses for a moment. “What we had was obsessive, toxic love. I think all of my relationships have been like that, though. Fast, furious, and fleeting.”

“Who was she?” I ask.

“My ex-best friend’s older sister. Her name is Miranda.”

“Scandalous.” I can tell he’s lost in a memory. “Wait, are you still in love with her?”

“No. Absolutely not.” He laughs. “Miranda is happily married to a good man and they have three cute kids. I was young and didn’t know how the world worked yet, but I learned my lesson quickly. Thirty-seven-year-old me knows I have to write my own rules and not give a fuck what anyone else thinks when it comes to my life and relationships.”

“That’s the way it should always be.”

“It wasn’t.” Zane nods. “Your turn.”

I’m brought back to memories I haven’t thought about in fifteen years.

“His name is Teddy, and we were biology partners. Dissecting frogs made me squeamish, so he took it upon himself to make me laugh the entire semester. It was puppy love, the kind that when you look at them you’re shocked that they’re actually yours. He was smart, but also a football star, popular and completely out of my league. Everyone loved him, knew him, and still does. He plays quarterback professionally now, one of those MVP Super Bowl ring wearers.”

“It sounds like it was great. Why did it end?”

I meet his eyes. “Long distance isn’t for me and never will be. When I’m with someone, I’m with them. I was accepted at Columbia and he was attending LSU to play college ball. We set clear expectations, and after our final summer together, we broke up and went our separate ways. To date, it was the most adult relationship I’ve ever had. We still exchange Christmas cards and he comments on my social media posts sometimes, but that’s about it.”

“I’m sensing a type with NFL players and retired Olympians.”

“Yes.” I snicker. “The other man I dated, Antonio, played professional baseball.”

“And what about Mr. Dreamy? What’s he into?”

“ Me and only me ,” I confidently say. “In real life, my shining personality carries me a long way, just not down the aisle.”

“Athletes are assholes, Pumpkin. They never appreciate what they have,” he says.

“Then I’m glad you’re not one,” I tell him.

“Fuck, me too. Do you wish you would've tried to make it work?”

It’s not a question I’ve ever asked myself, but I think about it, taking it to heart. The tequila helps with my honesty and I hope I don’t regret spilling all my truths tomorrow. Hell, maybe we’ll drink so much that neither of us will remember.

“I never imagined a future with him. We knew it was short term. I missed his company, but we were always better friends than lovers.”

The silence draws on for a few seconds. “I’m impressed. Ivy League.”

“And I graduated with a perfect GPA. I peaked in college, though. Look at me now.”

He shakes his head. “Give yourself more credit.”

“Did you like Princeton?” I change the subject, catching what he said earlier.

“I wasn’t interested.” He pauses. “I was a competitive snowboarder, and I’d placed to compete in the Olympics. It’s all I wanted in life. During training before the trials started, I took a halfpipe and landed wrong and injured my knee and tore some ligaments, which took me out. Princeton was a backup plan because my father required it in case my hobby didn’t work out. He never considered it a career. When I stopped snowboarding professionally, I continued my studies in world affairs and finance, and joined the family business.”

It’s hard to place his expression.

It’s full of regret and pain, maybe sorrow too.

“I’m sorry.” I want to hug him.

“It’s how I know Sebastian. He was my replacement. Fucking asshole. And knowing he was with you…” He stops talking and shakes his head. “You deserved a million times better than him. I’m thrilled you’re not together.”

“It’s personal with you two.”

His gaze is distant. “Very fucking personal.”

Before any more words are spoken, Zane pours another shot into his glass and I slide mine forward. The conversation went too deep already. Sebastian was an Olympian because of Zane’s misfortunes. Their reaction to seeing one another makes more sense now. The tension was too thick.

“It’s why you should follow your dreams if you are capable, Pumpkin. Some of us lost that opportunity and can never get what we want.”

“You're right,” I whisper, feeling guilty. Perspective does that.

I study his mouth, remembering what it felt like against mine. It was first-love magic. The logical side of my brain says that at least. The tipsy part begs me to take risks and fuck it all. It’s like I have an angel on one shoulder and a devil on the other.

When the last timer rings, Zane removes the pumpkin seeds from the oven. He grabs an empty bowl and scoots the roasted ones inside. I enjoy watching him be domestic, and he catches me. After a brief second, he focuses back on his task at hand, but his sexy little grin isn’t lost on me.

I reach forward, grabbing one and putting it into my mouth, then immediately regret it. I spit the seed back into my palm to blow on it. “I just burnt the fuck out of my tongue,” I say with a laugh.

“You’re impatient,” he says.

“You have no idea.” I pop it back in, loving the crunch and flavor.

He grabs the bowl and our shot glasses. “Grab the tequila. We have snacks to eat and pumpkins to carve.”

“Hell yeah we do.” I pick it up and follow him down the hallway. The fire barely flickers, so Zane adds a few more logs on top. I stand beside him, holding my hands out as the flames lick up toward the sky.

“I love it when it’s like this outside. The briskness in the air makes me excited.” I hiccup, a sign that I’ve drunk too much. “Oh no.”

“What?” he asks.

“The hiccups. They mean I’m on my way to being fucked.” I laugh. “Not literally. Just tipsy.”

Laughter roars from him. “Pace yourself.”

“Nah,” I tell him. “Do you know what number question we’re on?”

“Um. I lost count.” He steals a glance. “But I think it’s my turn. I wonder what I could ask that you’d not want to answer.”

I flip my hair over my shoulder. “There isn’t one.”

His head falls back on his shoulders. “That’s why you agreed, because you have no limits.”

“Only with you. If you’re willing to cut yourself open, then I will too. Secrets for secrets. I’ll trade with you.”

“Mm.” His voice is velvety. “You might not like everything you learn.”

“You might not either. I’m not perfect, but I’m not scared of you learning who I am. I have nothing to hide, either.”

“Then what are you afraid of with us?”

I glance at him. “I guess that’s a question I have to answer?”

A sly smile slides over his lips. I breathe in, tucking my hands in my pockets. “I’m afraid of growing attached then having to navigate a world without knowing you.”

His face softens and I wonder what he’s thinking.

“Your turn.”

“I’m afraid of falling madly in love with you,” he says.

“Zane.” I search his face, and I think I stop breathing completely as I watch the stars disappear behind clouds. Then thunder claps and lightning strikes close by and we’re both pulled out of this conversation. The rumble has me nearly jumping out of my skin as I slide my phone from my pocket to check the radar app. “We’re about to get shit on.”

He glances at the screen just as a few drops fall from the sky like torpedoes. The wind picks up and I realize we were enjoying the calm before the storm. Figuratively and metaphorically.

“We need to get inside now,” I tell him, looking at the growing red blob, knowing how these mountain storms work. They creep up randomly, even when there is a zero percent chance of rain.

I stand and I’m wobbly on my feet. Zane is too.

“Shit,” I tell him, grabbing the pumpkin seeds and the tequila.

“At least you got what’s important.” When his arms wrap around both pumpkins, the bottom falls out of the sky. I pick up my pace, trying to sprint without tripping, but I’m already soaked.

When I’m on the porch, I turn, finding him right behind me. I glance at the fire that’s sizzling then notice my phone is still on the table.

“Oh no,” I say, then set everything down by the back door.

“I’ve got it.” Zane rushes out, grabbing everything, including the pumpkin tools, then sprints back toward me. Fat water drops run from his hair and face. It sounds like a fucking freight train.

“My hero.” I chuckle.

“You’re awful with phones.” He hands it to me.

“It’s a bad habit I’m trying to break.”

“Come with me.” He holds out his hand, glancing back at the falling drops. “You’re already soaked.”

I take it and he leads me off the porch back into the rain. It’s slamming against us and I look up at him, smiling. “Dance with me. I have a few things I promised my mom I’d do.”

I laugh, taking his hands, and he sings September . And I don’t think I’ll be reminded of anything else when I hear this song again, not considering the day is actually the 21st night of September. He spins me around as the drops sparkle down like glitter. Joy spreads over me as I join him when he starts the chorus. Zane grins wide, chuckling as I sing the high-pitched oh oh ohs .

Our eyes lock and I’ve never wanted someone to kiss me more than I want him to right now. My lashes flutter closed and our lips move toward one another in slow motion. Before we touch, lightning cracks behind us, and Zane is taking my hand, pulling me away.

I shiver and notice his shirt is stuck to him, every inch and ridge of his body embossed in sharp relief. “We should probably change clothes,” he mutters, grabbing the pumpkins again

“Yeah.” I carry the rest of the things. We set everything down on the counter before I follow him. Zane walks through the kitchen, flicking on the lights in the living room and upstairs. With each step we each leave wet footprints.

“Will you give me an official tour?” I ask, joining him.

“I’d love to. Let’s save it for tomorrow when the sun is up because you’ll be able to better appreciate the design with how the sunlight leaks through the windows at different times of day. It’s an experience.”

“Wow. I can’t wait,” I say, my eyes scanning my surroundings, taking in how well the decorations flow together, knowing his Mom designed it. At the top of the stairs, he takes a left, and I follow him to the end of the wide hallway. I stop and stare at the double doors that stretch from floor to ceiling.

“Is this your lair? Seriously, it looks like something from a castle.”

“Good eye. It’s what they consider Gothic Oak and is from a house that was built in the 15th century. French, I believe.”

“It’s beautiful.” I smooth my hand across the dark carved wood, appreciating the history.

He pushes them open and we walk into a gigantic bedroom with high ceilings, but there are two walls of windows that connect at a corner. In this room, he has the perfect view of sunrise and sunset. “Wow,” I say, taking a step forward.

“I was thinking the same,” he says, but he’s not looking at the room, he’s zeroed in on me. Then he moves to a pocket door that blends in with the wall. He slides it open and waits for me to join him.

“You have a department store inside your house,” I say with a snicker, amazed by his well-organized closet. Then I hiccup again.

Zane chuckles, moving to a tall dresser across the space that’s as large as my loft. He pulls out a small stack of clothes and hands them to me. I’m more than ready to get out of this soggy sweater and jeans.

“The bathroom is right next door if you’d like privacy.”

“Just turn around,” I tell him, twirling my finger.

He does without question.

“What’s a deal breaker in a relationship for you?” I completely undress, removing my bra and panties that are soaked too. I glance at the T-shirt he gave me and notice it has his name written in the corner and a number 13 on the back. One of his childhood jerseys no doubt. Soccer, if I had to guess. I slide the soft material over my body.

“Lying. I can forgive the truth and work through it with someone I love more than a lie. And you?”

“Cheating,” I whisper. Old memories flood in about all the nights I thought Sebastian was with other women. However, it was never confirmed. During our final year of being together, I slowly became the insecure girlfriend he warned me I’d become, almost as if he planned it.

Sebastian stole my confidence, and with it, my creativity.

I slip on the pair of the bottoms he gave me, seeing another number on the leg. They’re too long and baggy around the waist but I manage. “I’m dressed.”

He turns to me and grins wide. The corners of his eyes crease. “My clothes look good on you.”

“I promise they’d look better off of me,” I say, shaking my head with a laugh. “Sorry. That’s the tequila talking. Ignore it.”

“It’s the devil’s drink,” he says, but his smile doesn’t fade. Zane returns to his dresser. I turn my back, giving him the same respect he offered me.

Moments later, he walks past me with a black T-shirt in his hand. The performance joggers sit low on his waist and hug his toned thighs and taper at the ankle. Muscles cascade down his back and I lose my train of thought as I admire each inch of him. He is the man of my dreams, every part of him. “You’re…”

“You’re back to eye fucking me again, Pumpkin.” He turns, catching me as he stands in the doorway before walking away. “You should really stop doing that.”

He may have said it like a warning, but I take it as an invitation.