Page 116 of Faking It
“So . . .” he murmurs against my lips when he leans back and looks at me. “How’d I get so lucky?”
“Are you going to tell me?”
“Tell you what?”
“The outcome?” I swat at his chest playfully as he pulls me in for another kiss to try and distract me.
“I don’t know.”
“What do you mean you don’t know?”
Is he being serious?
“I walked away from the bet. I let the money go.”
“Very funny. You’d never do that and let Kostas win without a fight. I know you better than that.” But there is something about the way he says it that tells me he isn’t joking. He wouldn’t, would he? “Zane?”
“You can’t put a profit on love. It’s priceless.”
“Oh, God that was cheesy.” I laugh.
“Hey, don’t hate the player.”
“Well, then the player needs to get a stronger game,” I say but there’s something about the way he looks at me that makes me think he’s really not joking.
“Zane?” He just stares at me and lifts his brows. “Zane!”
“Hmm?” He tilts back the bottle of beer to his lips.
“You’re not joking are you?”
“About?”
“You forfeit the bet?”
He shrugs like a man who can walk away from that kind of money without caring. “I agreed to the bet in the first place because I wanted that thrill. The buzz was missing. But I realized it wasn’t the business I needed, but rather something else . . . or should I say someone else.”
“Ohhh, much stronger game there. Definitely an improvement.”
“See? I can learn.”
“You can,” I lean over and press my lips to his. “And you have.” And then one more time. “Now are you going to tell me what happened in your meeting?”
He shrugs like a man who is used to winning and losing millions—with complete nonchalance.
The past week has been . . . God, it’s been fabulous. We made ourselves turn our phones off, unplug, and tune in. Lazy days on the beach. Spontaneous picnics in the park. Lovemaking that lasts for hours.
No interruptions. No stress. Just us.
Then of course company came today. Kostas and Mateo and Enzo arrived for their annual two year get together. And to open the envelope that holds the results of their high-stakes contest.
I look over at Zane. He has color on his skin and there’s an ease to him that’s new to me. Almost as if he’s finally comfortable in his own skin. I’ve always thought he was before, but I can see it now.
“What?” He says when he notices me watching him watch the yachts bobbing in the crystal blue of the ocean.
“You’re serious aren’t you?”
“Do I ever joke about money?”
