Bad Nanny (The Bad Nanny Trilogy #1)(51)

When I hear him following after me, I retreat into the downstairs bathroom and slam the door, locking it up tight and taking my contacts out with a shaking finger. I'm almost positive I'm imagining it, but it feels like I look different today. I know I feel different, but I can't quite figure out why that is. Maybe it's because my life's become unrecognizable in the last week?

Just last month, before Ingrid ever left, I was getting over my breakup with Anthony, hitting bars with my friends, making appearances at campus parties. I was planning the next year of my life out to the smallest detail, making sure everything was on track for graduation and the beautiful future I'd envisioned for myself.

Now, I'm hiding in the downstairs bathroom of my sister's place, trying to figure out why I can't breathe when Zay's around, why I'm letting myself go around a complete stranger, how I'm going to manage these kids in the long run.

I lean to the side and let my body rest against the wall. Because of Zay, I'd almost forgotten my night at the club. But how could I? It was ten times busier than the night before, and the crowd was rowdy and awful.

I hated every second of it. Second being the key word. That was only my second night working, and I feel like I want to pull my hair out. All those eyes on me, the grinding thump of the music, my sweaty hands gripping the pole.

A knock at the door makes me jump, snaps me out of last night's memories.

I put my clothes on as quick as I can and open the bathroom door to find Zayden waiting for me, still wearing his briefs and nothing else. He doesn't even seem to care that the bay window looks in right on his nearly naked form.

“You want a PB&J for breakfast? I'm gettin' real good at making those.”

“A PB&J?” I ask, blinking at him as I try to figure out the most strategic way to squeeze past him into the living. Only there is no strategic way because he's a big dude and he takes up the whole space. “Yeah, sure,” I say, just to get him to move away, pad into the kitchen with an exaggerated yawn, arms stretched over his head, the muscles in his sleek back lengthening into a painting worthy image of perfection. Oddly enough, there isn't a single tattoo on that long, lean stretch of muscle. Other than the sprinkle of color at the top that connects his shoulders and trails up the back of his neck, this is all blank canvas.

I feel my breath catch again and have to close my eyes for a long moment. Never in my life have I been this jumpy about a guy before and it's a little concerning if I'm being honest with myself. In my mind, I tell myself I'm acting this way because I lost my virginity to the guy. Everyone always acts like people develop immediate feelings for the partner that was involved during their first time. Maybe it's true?

I walk up to the doorway between the living room and kitchen, folding my arms in front of myself as I watch Zay slap together another sandwich for me. He even wraps the bottom half up in a paper towel so it's portable.

“Here ya go.” He passes it over to me and lets his fingers linger against the pulse point in my wrist. “Have fun at school, okay? And tell Dan the Douche to fuck off if he tries to hit on you.”

“Um.” I slap the sandwich against my palm. “And why would I do that? What if I like the guy?” I kind of don't, but that's not really the point.

Zay flashes a grin over his shoulder.

“Cool beans. Like the guy. Do whatever you want with him … after I go back to Vegas. Until then, Smarty-Pants, I'm totally laying my claim on you.”



The campus at HSU is lush. I'd be hard-pressed to admit it, but it's definitely prettier than Berkeley, less competitive, too. It's not like I have a problem with competitiveness. Trust me, I can keep up. I didn't graduate high school early to then fall behind, but … an academic world without that cutthroat background buzz is nice, peaceful. Even though Humboldt State is a hell of a lot less prestigious than UCB, I think I might be able to adapt. Maybe even come to like it here?

I pass under trees dripping with dew, past jurassic ferns that have probably grown here since the beginning of time, and head out to my Subaru, pausing when a hand clamps down on my door and a girl appears, leaning into my personal space like Zayden does.

“Hi there,” she says, smiling prettily at me. And wow. She is pretty—tall and thin with tattoos on both arms and electric blue hair that mimics the small bit of clear sky I can see above her head. “You're Brooke, right?”

“Yeah?” I answer her like it's a question, mostly because I'm already worrying about what's going to happen between Zayden and me when I get home, and partly because I'm a little confused as to how she knows my name.

“Tinley,” she offers as introduction, pointing to herself with a finger tattooed in hearts. “You're Dan's study partner?”