Page 84 of Dirty Like Zane
“You can’t put that on me, Zane,” I told him. “You don’t get to fuck around and then throw a shit-fit tantrum because another man puts a hand onme.”
“Yeah, I fucking will have a problem with it if someone puts a hand onyou.”
“No. No, you’ve gotta act like a sane person here, okay? Matt was just being friendly. What are you gonna do when someone actually makes a move on me? Oh wait, I know. Start a food fight.” I got up, shakily, covering myself with my dress. “So how about the next time some bitch grabs your junk in front of me, I’ll just throw chili at her head, would thatwork?”
“Go ahead. I wouldn’t mind seeing that,actually.”
“Of course you wouldn’t. Jesus.” I raked my fingers through my hair and stared at him. He was just lying there on the floor, half-dressed. “Do you not get this AT ALL? I’m never getting in a catfight over you, Zane. I am never gonna stand between you and other women. I’d be fuckingtrampled, do you get that? I don’t want to be the reason you don’t fuck other women, and I don’t want to be the reason you don’t drink, or the reason you don’t end up in jail. What I want—no, what I need is foryouto be the reason you don’t do any of those things, FORYOU.”
“Yeah,” he said, gazing up at me. “That’s pretty much what Rudysaid.”
Rudy? RudyBaker?
He’d talked to his AA sponsor about this? Aboutus?
“Well then, Rudy’s fuckingright.”
I turned around, searching the floor. Where the hell were my panties and how did he incinerate them so fast? I needed them back on before his come started running down my leg, and the reality of what we just didwithout a condomsank in and I truly lost myshit.
I’d probably just end up fucking him again, since that was what I did, apparently, when I lost my shit in front ofZane.
I started to laugh, this scary-ass, high-pitched giggle that made nosense.
“I need you, Maggie,” he said. I heard him getting up off the floor behind me, slowly, and my laughter died. He sounded defeated, and I didn’t want to see him like that. But I couldn’t even stop myself from turningaround.
He looked defeated as he sat on the edge of the bed, his jeans hastily pulled up but still undone, his shirt all askew. He pitched forward with his elbows on his knees and just stared atme.
“I need you, too,” I admitted. It was thetruth.
I needed Zane, and Jesus Christ I wanted him. Seeing him vulnerable, the way he looked right now, the curve of his shoulders and his blond hair in his face, fucking killed me. I wanted to put my arms around him, sobad.
But I didn’t. I couldn’t seem to move. I just stood rooted to the spot, wantinghim.
“I just can’t,” I told him, again. “I can’t do this withyou.”
“Fuck, Maggie. Comeon.”
“I told you. I already told you Ican’t.”
He held my gaze, and he actually looked scared. “Ever?”
“I don’t know. Just… not like this.” I turned to get away from those blue eyes of his, and I finally glimpsed my panties. I snatched them up and pulled them on. I wanted to run right out the door, but I didn’t. It took everything I had to just stand here and not take off, but Ididn’t.
I turned around and I forced myself to look at Zane again. His eyes were still on me, and he still looked scared. I hated making him look like that. I hated hurtinghim.
But I seriously didn’t know what todo.
I really couldn’t handlethis.
All I could seem to handle—just barely—was avoiding him, then giving in and fucking the shit out of him… over andagain.
Which was no good foranyone.
It just hurt likefuck.
Worse, I was starting to realize that maybe it wasmewho was hurting us both more than anything else… and the guilt of that on top of everything else was gonna fucking destroyme.
“Fuck,” I said, because sometimes, there were no other words. I pushed my hands into my hair, wanting to rip it right out at the roots. “You make me fucking crazy. Like no one’s ever made me this crazy in mylife.”
