48. Zane

48

ZANE

THIRTY MINUTES EARLIER

Owen keeps trying to push me out his front door, but I don't budge. "His bedtime is at eight on the weekends."

"Ah ken," Owen grumbles, waving me away. "I've watched the bairn before."

"What's a bairn?" Aiden asks. He's already sucking on one of the lollipops Owen keeps around just for him.

Owen tweaks the end of his nose. "That'd be you, lad."

Aiden's face screws up in a frown. "What's a lad?"

"You again," Owen laughs. At least, I think it's a laugh. It's actually the first time I've ever seen anything like it from him in the almost five years I've known him. It comes out more like a smoker's cough.

"You've watched him before, but not overnight. This is the first time he's staying over, and I just want to?—"

"Drive me fookin' crazy." Owen winces and glances down quickly at Aiden. "I mean, ‘drive me crazy.'"

"What's fookin'?" Aiden asks.

Maybe this wasn't a good idea.

I wanted to go out to dinner with Aiden and Mira and then go home for the night. If Mira ended up in my bed after that, so fucking be it.

But Mira would barely look at me when I asked her to join us. She wanted to stay home alone rather than go out with me, which is the only reason I agreed to go out with Daniel.

If I go back to the condo tonight, I'll go crazy knowing she's just sitting in her room.

For my own sanity, I need to get the hell out of here.

"Watch your mouth around my kid," I warn Owen. "He's only four."

He flips me the bird. "I'll teach my godson whatever the fook I want in my own house."

"He's not Aiden's godfather, is he?" Daniel asks as soon as the door closes. "It's me, isn't it?"

I bound down Owen's steps towards my car idling on the curb. "I haven't decided yet."

Daniel snorts as he follows along. "It's obviously me."

Daniel was the obvious choice to be Aiden's godfather—until the moment we walk through the doors of the prissy, LED-riddled, glamified cocktail lounge he navigated me to.

A bachelorette party erupts in a loud cheers as they clink their rainbow-colored drinks together at the bar.

I grab Daniel by the back of his shirt. "What in the fuck are we doing here?"

"It's a new spot. I thought we'd check it out."

An ABBA song starts playing and a disco ball descends from a trap door in the ceiling above the dance floor. Daniel winces. "Taylor has been talking about this place for months. I wanted to check it out before I bring her tomorrow night."

"Absolutely not. You're my best friend, but I draw the line at being your date test run."

I turn for the door, but Daniel grabs my arm. "Come on, man. I'm going to ask Taylor to be my girlfriend and I need to make sure this place has the right vibe. Taylor is—She deserves—I want it to be just right! Come on, man. Please."

Fook me and my fookin' bleeding heart.

"Fine." I take a deep breath and straighten my shirt. "But if I'm your practice date, you're going to treat me right. Drinks are on you."

"Obviously." Daniel grins. "I'm a gentleman."

Behind him, a waitress in holographic makeup hits a button and colored bubbles start shooting out of the floor.

My frown sours.

"You get thirty minutes." I shove past him, stomping my way towards a table in the darkest corner. "Thirty minutes and then I'm gone."

It's a shame I'm sober, because the only way a place like this might be tolerable is with several drinks in my system.

Or Mira by my side , I admit very unwillingly.

"What do you think?" Daniel asks, perusing the menu. "This seems like the kind of place Taylor would be into, right?"

"That depends. Is Taylor into flashing light-induced migraines and sugar with a side of alcohol?"

Daniel ignores me, too nervous to take the bait. "The bar is busy, but I reserved a booth. They seem private enough, yeah?"

I sigh. "I'm sure she'll like wherever you take her. She was all over you at the barbecue."

"Yeah, and hasn't been since," he grumbles. "It's fine, though. We took that road trip and then work has been crazy. I just haven't been able to tend to my little plant the way I need to, but I can salvage things."

I choke on a laugh. "Excuse me? Did you just call her your little plant ?"

"Not her, but our relationship, yeah," he shrugs. "New relationships are like little baby plants. They need a lot of water and light and consistent care until they're bigger and hardier."

"Which self-help book did you read that out of?"

I'm kidding, but I think Daniel might actually be blushing. "I have the internet. I figured I might as well use it to my advantage."

"Holy shit—Davis wasn't kidding. You're absolutely whipped for this chick."

Daniel doesn't even deny it. He just smiles. "What about you?"

"What about me?"

"I haven't seen you hooking up with anyone else since Mira came along."

"I've been a little busy raising a kid," I point out. "And CPS won't buy that I'm in a serious relationship if I'm photographed out with random women every weekend."

Daniel squints at me for a long second before he shakes his head. "Nice try, but I don't buy it."

"You don't have to buy it; I'm not selling anything. I'm just telling you the truth."

"Bullshit," he retorts. "You can be discreet. You've done it before. There are plenty of ways to get women to bed without being photographed and you know it. You've done it . "

He isn't wrong. There are always ways around the press. They'd never know. Neither would Mira.

The problem is that I know.

I know the way Mira tastes. I know what it feels like when her legs are wrapped around my waist. I know what she sounds like when she comes.

No other woman is going to match up to what is waiting for me at home, and I have no idea how to make sense of that.

"Fine. I can admit it." I throw up my hands. "I'm into Mira. But I'm not pathetic about it the way you are."

"Oh, you're pathetic alright," he says. "You're just in denial. Which is arguably worse."

Two guys cozy up to a redhead at the bar. I can't hear them over the music, but I can tell by the way he's leaning in way too close that he's hitting on her. The woman flashes them a wedding ring and the men slink off.

Daniel puts his shit-eating grin away and tries his hand at something bordering on sincerity. It comes out looking more like he's constipated. "Taylor thinks Mira is really into you, you know."

"Great," I mutter sarcastically. "Thanks, Taylor. Much appreciated."

The two guys I saw on the prowl earlier are on the other side of the bar now. They must have been successful because one of them has his arm thrown over a woman's shoulders. Her head is turned, so I can't see her face, but…

Her hair… It's black. So black it's almost blue in the light from the disco ball. It falls in long waves over her shoulder and when she turns, I see?—

"What the fuck?" Daniel yelps, almost tipping over our ridiculously small table when I jump to my feet.

The blood pumping through my veins is a whirr in my ears, drowning out the music in the bar and whatever Daniel is saying.

It doesn't matter. Nothing else matters.

Because Mira is here.

And some other asshole has his arm around her.