Page 141 of Dirty Like Zane
Zane was my husband, and this was myfamily.
Dallas was theenemy.
What the hell was she doing here? In her shiny red mini-dress andI’m-a-slutheels, with her thick blonde hair and fake game-show-co-hostsmile…
By the time I reached Zane and he pulled me to him, I was far more angry and distraught than I was happy to seehim.
“What’s she doing here?” I demanded, before he could get a wordout.
“Who?” The light in his face died a bit, so maybe he already knewwho.
“Dallas,” I bitout.
Zane glanced over toward the bar, where Dallas stood. So yeah, he knew she wasthere.
“Hey, Maggie. Welcome back.” Dylan laid a warm hand on my back and I let him draw me into ahug.
“Thanks, Dylan,” I forced out. “Nice to beback.”
Then Zane yanked me away from Dylan and pulled me aside—into the very back corner of thebar.
“You alright?” he asked, looking me over. “What happened withDizzy?”
“Fuck Dizzy. Did you inviteher?”
“No,” he said. “I didn’t invite her. I haven’t even talked to heryet.”
“Yet?” My hands curled into fists at my sides, and I wondered what the odds were that I’d punch him—or Dallas—before the night was through. With the fury that was running through my veins right now, it was feeling pretty damn likely. I was shaking, I was so wrung out from the awkward-painful conversation with my dad, and nowthis…
“It’s a party, Maggie,” he said, eying me cautiously. Maybe wondering if I was gonna use the fists. “She showed up. That’s what peopledo.”
“Yeah. She showed up. Just like she showed up at your Christmas party, and you let her stay there, too. There she is, and you know how I feel about her. I told you how I feel about her after that party. So unlessyouhave some kind of feelings for her, I can’t see any reason why she’s stillhere.”
“I’m not involved with her anymore,” he said, eyes narrowing. So now he was getting mad at me? Where did he get off getting mad at me over this? “I’ve told you that. You never believeme.”
“Okay,” I practically seethed. “I believe you. But you still put up with her. You still entertain herbullshit.”
“What bullshit?” he challenged. “When she shoved her hand down my pants at the Christmas party? I told you, nothing happened afterthat.”
“I know. You didn’t even kick her assout.”
“I didn’t fuck her either, Maggie. I spent most of the night withyou.”
That wastrue.
“Even though you were barely speaking to me,” he added, with a little growl in hisvoice.
That was true,too.
I glared at himanyway.
He glared right back at me. He towered over me, with his head bent close to mine. We were maybe an inch apart, and even more than I wanted to kiss him… I wanted to throttlehim.
Fuck. Were we ever gonna get along for any length oftime?
And would I ever stop seeing my fucking dad when I looked athim?
Maybe not. Because I couldn’t seem to stop seeing women like Dallas when I looked athim.
