Chapter Seventeen

Honey

Jumping into Zach's arms, the wind flips up my skirt a little, but his hands catch the fabric, keeping me covered. "Honey," he whispers as he nuzzles into my neck, leaving the smallest of kisses against my skin. The act sends a soft tingle through my core.

Giggling, I try to pull back and get a better look at him, but Zach squeezes me a little tighter, seemingly wanting me to stay close. I oblige, letting myself melt into his touch while his muscles relax as he pours everything he has into our hug.

When he finally unclasps his hands and my feet drop to the floor, I look up at him. "What happened." His eyes meet mine, and he offers me a curious brow. "Don't give me that look. I know something's up. You're easy to read, and I swear if you crack your knuckles one more time, they'll break off."

His eyes dart around the parking lot, but it's early, so it's just us and Mike out here, who has backed away, giving us some space. Zach's fingers flex against my hips, and he says, "Nothing we can talk about here. Let's get in the car." With a tense jaw, I nod because all these thoughts start to run through my head. Does he want to end the deal early? We've ticked Jamie off enough for me to be happy, but I find the idea of going back to being a stranger to Zach impossible.

But if that's what Zach wants, who am I to deny it? He's a lone wolf and doesn't want anyone by his side, even though I think he could use someone. Someone like me.

Guiding him to the car, I open the back door so we can put our bags in and make my way to the driver's side. We start the journey in silence, and it's so quiet I hear the low hum of the electric engine.

"We need to extend the bet."

Typical Zach. No context or additional information, just a short statement of fact. He's so engrossed in his thoughts that he doesn't notice I miss the turn for the bus stop, heading straight to the highway to take him all the way home.

"We do?" I side glance at him before focusing back on the road, and he's staring straight out the window, not at me. "Why's that?"

"Jamie said he'd double the prize pot if I could keep dating you until prom."

"Prom? As in until April?" I strain out, surprised at just how long Jamie wants this to go on. I won't deny there's the tiniest part of me that's excited to spend more time with Zach, though.

With tight lips, he nods. "Jamie seems to believe that once football season's over and you're done sampling my broke ass dick, you'll go crawling back to him."

Zach says nothing when we pass the 7-Eleven. He knows I've missed the bus stop but doesn't bother to mention it, seemingly knowing I was never going to drop him off there. I can feel his eyes on me. "What the hell would make him think I would ever go back to him?" I huff out. Jamie's an arrogant tool, but that thinking is a special kind of stupid.

I gasp because that's when it comes to me. "The debutante ball."

"Jeez, Honey. Don't gasp like that while you're driving. You nearly gave me a heart attack." Zach clutches at the seatbelt and breathes heavily.

"Sorry, but I know why Jamie thinks I'll be back with him by prom. My mother is making me take part in this stupid debutante ball, and it's two weeks before prom. Our moms already agreed he would be my escort without my say."

"And you're going along with it?"

"I don't really have a choice. It's not like I have a line of men who aren't involved in a bet waiting to ask me."

The car falls silent, my bitter tone clear. It's not that I want Brett, Kyle, or any other guy asking me out, but I would like to feel a little special.

"Why didn't you ask me?" It comes out quietly, but I hear it.

I shrug, focusing all my attention on the street. "We would have finished the bet, so I didn't want to bother you with my problems."

He places his hand on my thigh, a little higher than he would have if this was a few weeks ago. "Honey, you should always bother me with your problems." Maybe he's not as much of a lone wolf as I thought. "Let me take you to the ball."

"I couldn't ask you to do that."

"You aren't asking. I am. I want to take you."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"But you'll have to wear tails and go to a fancy dinner with my parents."

"Sounds great. I can borrow a suit from Mike, and your dad loves me after your birthday party."

"Not so sure he'd be happy with you once he finds out what we were up to in my hallway." I fight the grimace from showing on my face, because I've wanted to mention the kiss for the longest time, but I didn't know how else to bring it up. He hasn't mentioned it once, but I need to clear the air for my own sanity.

That kiss was mind-blowing, and all I want to do is repeat it over and over again. The way he's been touching and kissing me since has felt different too. He's more possessive and protective, and it almost feels like that's his way of letting everyone know he's mine.

"Can I ask you something?" This is it. He's going to ask me how I felt about that kiss, and maybe we can finally figure out this underlying tension simmering between us.

"Sure can." My voice is way too high-pitched and chipper for it to be considered normal, but he doesn't question it.

"Did you choose the color of your car?"

The air falls flat. The color of my car? Really? That's what he wants to ask me about?

I play it off, acting unbothered by the question. "Not a fan of Barbie pink?" I throw a small smirk his way while I focus on driving.

"I feel like, after everything, we can be honest with each other, and Honey, if I'm being honest, your car looks like a vagina."

I burst out laughing. "Really? I've always thought it looked like a dildo."

His eyes widen, shock registering over his face. "Hunniford Sanderson. I never thought you'd say that word, let alone know what one looks like."

"Oh, please. You know all about mine and Jamie's less than stellar sex life. I had to do something." I swear Zach chokes on his own spit. "The car was white when my mother bought it. I thought it would stay that way, but apparently, she had other plans. Woke up one morning to this Pepto Bismol mess and couldn't complain because it wasn't my money that bought it."

"Thought so. It's not you."

"And what do you think is me?" I ask curiously.

He glances over, taking a minute to answer the question. "I think you'd go for something less flashy. You don't like drawing attention to yourself, even though people can't help but watch you."

I smile, and my stomach flips at the compliment, and when I draw my attention to Zach, he's watching me. "So, that means red is out of the question." Casually, he carries on. "Black and silver are both sexy." Still watching him, his gaze drifts to my thigh-skimming skirt and the tight blouse under my blazer. "Which you are, but they're too generic for a girl like you. You might not want to draw attention to yourself, but that doesn't mean you like to be like everyone else."

"You're really overanalyzing this, you know." I huff out a laugh, but I feel a warmth between us.

"Green," he states simply.

"Green?"

"Racing car green. That's your color. A little dangerous, not too flashy, but just enough for people to know that you're special."

"It's also the color of your eyes." I point out. "Are you suggesting green because I'm the apple of your eye?" Giving him a playful wink, I wonder how far we can take this little flirting session, because I like it.

"If that's what you want, Sugar Cookie."

Groaning, I slap the steering wheel lightly. "You always have to ruin the moment, don't you?" He grins. "These nicknames are terrible."

"You're right. None of them suit you, but we'll find the right one eventually. Until then, I will just have to persist in trying every single one I can think of, Dunkin' Donut."

"Please. If you're going to name me after a donut, at least call me Krispy Kreme. The best donuts in the world."

Zach chuckles. "I can think of plenty of Urban Dictionary definitions that might make you think twice about that nickname."

"Spare me the details." I roll off the highway, driving down the familiar street to Zach's house. "Are you looking forward to college?" I ask to change the subject.

"Of course. Football and out of the hell hole that is South Point. Who could ask for more?" He jokes, but the words sting because I'm part of that, and it's a hammering reminder of the contrasting worlds we come from.

"Is it that bad here?"

"It's not great. Try being the scholarship kid in a prep school full of arrogant rich idiots who think they know the answer to everything."

I gnaw at my bottom lip. "Try being the heiress to the most notorious law firm in the country and losing your arranged marriage because of McKenna Bryan."

A small smile plays on his lips, and I draw my sunglasses down, so our eyes connect. "Money doesn't get rid of your problems, Zach. It only creates different ones. You still have to learn to navigate through them. At least people's expectations involve you doing what you love. I've got to follow the destiny my parents planned before I was even born."

"Guessing you don't want to be a lawyer, then?"

I snort, shaking my head. "Who gets to do what they want to in life? Apart from pro athletes, but even then, they're skating on the edge of an injury which would demolish their career in a second."

"What kind of worldview is that? I'm used to the Honey Sanderson. The sassy girl that takes no shits, not this sad, depressed one."

"Yeah, well, that girl got shit on one too many times for her to think she can change it."

"That's where you're wrong, Baby Face. The world hands you a challenge, and how you deal with it is up to you. Sink or swim, rise or fall. You have to do one or the other to get through it, and I don't know about you, but I'd rather be living."

"Did you get that off the back of a cereal box?"

"No. Something happened to my family last year that I thought would crumble the very foundations of it, but it didn't. We grew stronger, and even though we're going through the hardest part of our lives, I know it will all be worth it."

Pursing my lips, I hold back on asking him what he's talking about because it all feels a little too personal.

Toying with his hands, I know that took a lot for him to admit, so I try to lighten the mood. "You know what? You're right. My life could be a lot worse. I could still be betrothed to Jamie." I scrunch my nose, and Zach brightens again. "I mean, if there was a choice between living in a postapocalyptic world where zombies were trying to eat my brains out daily or marrying that cheating asshole, I'd pick zombies any day. At least I'd get a cool sword or something."

He chuckles, rubbing my thigh, and I like it a little too much. "Although I think you'd kill it in a postapocalyptic zombie world, that's quite a statement."

"I know, right? But every time I think about what happened between Jamie and me, I get so embarrassed. There I was, thinking he was the love of my life, and the guy could barely stand me. Yet he was willing to put up with me forever just to get on his daddy's good side."

Zach shuffles in the seat, moving his hand away. "I wouldn't say that's entirely true."

"What are you talking about?"

He's quiet for a second. "Jamie and I had a little argument after agreeing on updating the bet."

"Oh my gosh, are you okay?"

"Pfft. I'm fine. Jamie would have to hit me in my sleep to get a punch in. But judging by his reaction, I would say he seemed pretty damn invested in you."

"Doesn't change things. He didn't fight for me when it mattered. I'm nothing but a possession to him. A plaything that he can control and use to make him look good at parties. That might be a good enough life for my mom, but it's not for me. I want someone who wants me and makes me feel like I'm the best thing that ever happened to them."

Zach averts his gaze and stares out the window at his beautiful family home. For a minute, I expect him to say something about dropping him here, but he doesn't.

"I've no doubts that you'll find that," he says, and I feel a little disappointed even though I have no right to. Secretly, I had fantasies of him looking at me like that, but he didn't even bother to make eye contact.

His hand hovers over the door handle, and it feels like he doesn't want to open it, and I don't want him to because that means I'll have to go home without him.

"Is that your bike?" I point to the old, rusty machine sitting under the pergola next to his house. "You mentioned it the other night."

"Well, points for listening. That's old Nessy herself. She's been out of action for the better part of three years. My uncle dropped it off, telling me he'd fix it with me so I'd have something to drive to my fancy pants high school."

"Is it nearly done?"

"Haven't started work on it. My uncle hasn't been around in a while." He's hesitant, and I know there's an underlying story there, but again, I hold back. If he wanted me to know these things, he'd tell me, and honestly, I'd rather he choose to tell me than me force him to answer. "I've had no time to do anything except study, play football, and work out since joining South Point. I have a job during the off-season to help make ends meet, and when I'm not working, I have other commitments."

"Oh yeah? What other commitments?" I had to ask this time; he gave too many vague references that I would have looked stupid if I didn't.

He waves his hand flippantly, tightening his grip on the handle but still not leaving. "Doesn't matter." His response is icy cold, and even though I can't see his face, I know he's ticked off that I asked. "Thanks for the ride, Honey."

No nickname.

"I've got to go," he mumbles while opening the door, then slamming it.

"Geez," I mutter, rest my head on the seat, and watch as Zach leaves. The curtain twitches and I make eye contact with the girl who lives there. The one he says is his sister, but I'm still not sure I believe that answer.

More and more, it's starting to feel like she might be one of Zach's commitments .

Driving home in silence, I spend too much time thinking about him and whether what's going on between us is the right thing. He's clearly got a lot going on at home, and I feel like I'm taking away from that. But he approached me and clearly needed the money. It doesn't help that the idea of cutting things off with Zach brings a sense of dread to my bones.

When I arrive home, there's a message waiting for me on my phone. Zach's name pops up, and I scan the driveway, making sure I'm alone. The porchlight is on, but no one is twitching the curtain to see if I've arrived home. I haven't missed one of my mother's classes in weeks, so she has no reason to bother me, and my father is too busy working to notice if I'm around.

I sit back and open the message, preparing for the worst.

Zach: I'm sorry I was an ass, Sunshine. Things got to me. Will you call me when you get home?

Call? Does he want to hear my voice as much as I want to hear his, or am I reading too much into this again? Quickly, I press call and wait for the car to connect us.

"Honey?" His voice sounds urgent among the laughter in the background. He's with his family, and I feel like I'm intruding even though I'm miles away on the other end of the line.

"Hey, Zach. Sorry, it sounds like I'm interrupting something. I'll speak to you tomorrow."

"No. No." I hear him shuffling away from the noise, then a loud bang, which I presume is a door. "Is this better?"

His smooth voice is the only thing filling the car now, and it warms my body. "Much better." I moan and open my eyes, shocked. I really hope he didn't hear that.

"Good. Thanks for calling."

I mumble a light "Mm-hm" in response.

"I'm sorry about earlier. Things just got to me."

"What things?" I'm skating that same line I did earlier with the "commitment" comment, but it feels like he's inviting it.

"All the Jamie bullshit and stuff at home, but it's nothing that will affect my ability to complete this bet."

I press my lips into a flat smile. The bet. That's all this is about. He wants to make sure he hasn't lost his moneymaker, and I can't blame him. I just wish it didn't feel like a shot through the heart because, yet again, I'm somebody's meal ticket.

"Or being your escort for the debutante ball… if you'll let me?" he asks.

"You want to go?"

"For you. Yes." Short and simple, but those three words make my heart skip. "Make sure you wear green. You'll look hot." My mouth cracks into a grin.

"How much do you know about debutante balls?"

"Honey, I'm an out-of-town jock. How much do you think I know?"

"I have to wear white."

He hums, and the noise reverberates through the car, into my body, and straight down to my panties. "Green or white, you'll still look delicious."

Heat rises to my cheeks, and I'm glad I'm alone out here so no one can see my reaction. "You don't mean that."

"I do. I don't lie to you, Butterball. That was the first thing I promised you, and I haven't since. It's not your fault you were stuck with a guy unable to see your worth before. But you were right earlier. When you said, you want someone that looks at you like you stuck the stars in the sky, or some shit like that. You deserve that. You will get that, I promise."

More and more, I want him to be the one to keep that specific promise. Zach with the bad-boy image but with a heart of gold.

I want him.

I jolt when loud banging fills the car. "Crap," Zach mutters.

"ZaZa." It's a faint and muffled voice, but there's no denying it's the voice of a baby.

"Sorry, that's my cousin. I've got to go. Can't wait to see you tomorrow, Dream Girl."

He ends the call before I have the opportunity to answer.

Dream Girl? I wish. I also wish speaking to him didn't give me this intense need to speak to him more. His words make me feel special for something other than being a Sanderson. His hands make me feel electrified. Like a moth to a flame, I keep begging for more, despite knowing I'll get burned.

I want more of him so I can explore these feelings, but I can't exactly come out and tell him that.

Closing my eyes, I think about Zach and how his words make my heart skip a beat. The sweet nothings he whispers down the hall while his hands protectively hold me drift into my mind. But then, something more sinister takes over. A sensual reminder of when Zach's hand was creeping up my dress when no one was watching.

My core burned. My body ached.

Swallowing, I shiver when that same feeling returns just thinking about it. God, do I want to feel that way again. It's just that I have no idea how to get back in that place with him without openly admitting my feelings may have changed. The harsh blow of rejection and a heavy dose of realization stop me from doing that. Zach has made it clear that he views South Point like a living hell, and I've no doubts he won't stick around longer than he has to, but maybe that suits me.

It's not like I'm looking for something serious. I just want to explore these feelings without guilt while I figure them out. I just don't know how.

As I take a long breath in, a thought comes to me, and I jerk my eyes open with a smile. I've got it. I've figured out a way to get what I want without telling Zach about my growing feelings or screwing up what we already have.

Zach's not the only one who can change the agreement's rules.

I can too.