“She’s not my girlfriend,” Zane said, to which she responded with a snort. “She isn’t. She’s a woman I’ve dated on and off for a couple years. This weekend decided me to switch her to ‘off’ for good.”
“If she showed up here, you need to convey your decision more clearly.”
Sensing a grudging reduction in her annoyance, Zane coaxed Rebecca’s arm away from her face. Her hand fit nicely between his. Turning her head without lifting it, she looked at him with her big gray eyes. The vulnerability he saw there touched him. Funnily enough, so did her prickliness.
“I wouldn’t do that to you,” he said softly, “even though we only slept together once. Deliberately shoving her in your face would be childish—especially on your big night.”
“It wouldn’t be my business if you did.”
He stroked her cheek with the back of his hand. “You could make it your business in two seconds.”
“I told you—”
“I know what you told me.” He slid his arm beneath her back, helping her to sit up without straining her muscles. “How did tonight go?”
“Oh,” she said, “we had a couple bumps. The guy who replaced me at my old job showed up with an important food critic. Half a dozen lobster plates went out raw and—evidently—my big tough expediter falls apart over fights with his roommate.”
Zane eased her toward him until her brow rested on his shoulder. With extra gentle fingers, he massaged the back of her neck. Her skin was warm, the short hair at her nape like silk. “What went right?”
“Almost everything else,” she admitted. “My crew pulled it together after they bobbled. I don’t think The Lounge will get panned.”
Zane was willing to bet it would get rave reviews. Smiling, he gave in to temptation and kissed her hair.
“Zane . . .”
“Shh.” He moved his lips to her temple. “I’ve been thinking about doing this for days.”
She pushed back, head lifting, lush mouth opened to protest. Zane kissed it softly and silenced her.
He could have kissed her all night. She melted into him like a dream, pleasured noises breaking in her throat despite her misgivings. He came erect in surges, letting out a groan when she rubbed his chest. Craving a lower hold, he dragged her hand downward to his bulge. She wasn’t shy about exploring, her fingers strong from the work she did. Once he knew they’d keep at it, he slid his hand up to cup her breast. God, he loved squeezing it. Its tip was a hard tight button beneath his palm.
“Rebecca,” he pleaded, “say you’ll give this a chance.”
She sucked in a breath but didn’t get a chance to answer.
“Damn it!” Trey cursed from the door.
~
Rebecca pulled away from Zane so fast her back went into cramp mode. “Shit,” she hissed, trying to ease the spasm by thrusting her arm back there.
Poised in the doorway with his hands braced on either side, Trey looked both angry and hurt. Somewhat to her surprise, Zane was the person he directed his fury to.
“I held back,” he said. “All these years I wanted to pursue her, but I held back for you!”
“What are you talking about?” Zane asked, which could have been her line. “You barely know Rebecca.”
“I held back ten years ago!” he spat out.
“What?”
“The waitress at Wilde’s. The night you asked me to be your business partner: your partner for real, I thought!”
Obviously, Rebecca was missing a couple checkers from this game. “I waited on you at Wilde’s?” she asked, choosing the safer of her two confusions.
“Yes.” The sparks Trey’s eyes were shooting shifted to her instead. “You warned us not to order lobster because the purveyor delivered frozen. You looked at me like you saw my soul. You knew I wanted to ask you out. I didn’t because of him.”
Memory stirred: Two Harvard boys at her table, their clothes and their confidence setting them apart. She recalled the piercing green-gold of Trey’s eyes, the vibe between him and his friend that she couldn’t figure out. She was no expert on souls, but the floor had rocked beneath her at Trey’s stare. She’d been disappointed when he simply left later. She’d have broken her no-dating rule for him. She’d have broken a lot of things.
I dreamed this memory, she thought, that night on the yacht with Zane.
“You left me a two hundred dollar tip,” she blurted.
“No,” Zane said. Apparently, this triggered his recall. “That was her? God.” He shoved his hands through his hair, gaping at her and then at Trey. “You could have asked her out. You didn’t need my permission.”
“Like hell,” Trey bit out. “You didn’t want me sleeping with anyone I might fall for. It’s why you hate me flirting with other men. You think they’re more of a danger. You think I’m g*yer than you.”
Zane’s glance shot to the open door. He didn’t want anybody to overhear, which he’d hardly mind if what Trey said were false.
“Oh, boy,” Rebecca said, the pieces falling together. “You two are a couple?”
“We’re not g*y,” Zane clarified in a lower voice. “We’re bisexual. But, yes, we’re a couple.”
He didn’t seem to like admitting it. Rebecca rubbed her back, which was still knotted up.
“We both like women,” Trey said, stepping farther into the room. “We don’t want to give them up, so we came to an arrangement.”
“And now you both want me.”
“Apparently.” Trey’s anger seemed to have run its course. He looked from her to Zane. If gazes could see into souls, theirs were doing it then. Rebecca sensed Trey asking his lover a silent question.
“No,” Zane said categorically.
“What if she were willing?”
“I want her,” Zane objected.
“You want me too,” Trey said. “I know we’ve never done it before, but you can’t tell me it’s never crossed your mind.”
“Guys,” Rebecca interrupted, suspecting they were trying to steer her fate without her input.
“Wait.” Trey lifted a hand to silence her. “I’ll ask you too. I need to settle this with him first.”
When he and Rebecca turned their attention back to Zane, his face was completely red. “Why would she agree to that?”