I gape at him and move into the living room, sitting down next to him so I can keep the book open for the baby. My thigh and Zay's line up; our arms line up. It feels really good actually.
“Well, I think that's a lot to throw at someone all of a sudden.” I reach out and turn the page slowly, trying to keep my attention on the splashy illustrations and not on the fine hairs of Zayden's arm brushing against mine. “If you feel all those things, then … what does that mean?”
“Mean?” he asks as he takes a deep breath. “Nothing. I just thought you should know that this is a little bit different than usual. That's all. I guess what I'm trying to say is, if you sleep with Dan the Douche, it won't be nearly as good.”
I scoff and then start laughing, unable to hold back the sound as I crumple over. The funniest part is, I don't think that's even supposed to be a joke. When I sit up, I have to shove my glasses back up my face again. I'm sitting on my hair which is annoying but normal. I just don't want to move to get it out, not from this spot in this moment.
“Seriously? Don't worry about Dan. His ex stalked me to my car today to warn me off of him.” I pause and look up at the popcorn ceiling. I hate it. I have urges to get on a chair and scrape it all off. If this were my house instead of a rental, I'd do it in a second. “Or maybe she was telling me off of him. Not sure exactly which. My point is, how can you say all these things? Tell me I'm different from all the other girls you've …” I glance Zayden's way. “Slept with, and then try to act like that doesn't mean anything.”
“No, you're right: it means something,” he corrects himself as I turn the page for Sadie again. “It does. But what I'm trying to say is, it doesn't change anything. Between us, I mean.” Zayden glances over at me and smiles. “I think we should enjoy our week together, that's it. That's all I'm trying to say.”
“Right.” I'm so confused right now, but I think he is, too, so whatever. That's okay. That's his problem, not mine. I stand up from the couch and head to the back door to let the dogs in, cringing at the muddy footprints they splatter across the floor in their wake. An instant letter, I hear a hiss and a yowl and watch as Hubert tears out from under the couch with three chihuahuas on his heels.
Oops.
Zay gets up and hands me Sadie.
“One sec, 'kay?” he says and then he turns and swings around the newel post, heading up the stairs as I look down at Dodger and use my foot to stop him from lifting his leg on the edge of the baby's crib. The stupid little rat can't seem to stop marking his territory, even though none of this stuff really belongs to him. He wants it to be his, but he doesn't want to have to take any responsibility for it.
Zayden's the same way, I think. That's what all his posturing in front of Dan was about, why he said he was laying his claim on me. He wants to piss on me and mark me as his, but he doesn't want the responsibility that comes along with it.
Zay might be good with his nieces and nephews, with mine, but he's exactly what I thought he'd be: the perfect one-night stand.
Oh well. If he thinks that's news to me, he's wrong. I didn't sleep with a stranger expecting to be romanced.
Zayden Roth can watch my kids for me for free, save me some money, give me some time.
And you know what? I'll let him touch me because I want it, not because he does. I'll use him exactly the way he's using me, and then I'll be done.
It'll be a nice ending for both of us when he goes back to Las Vegas.
I am like, so screwing up this Brooke thing.
I know it; she knows it.
What the hell are you doing, Zay? I wonder as I corral the little brown and tan dogs in the upstairs bathroom and close the door. Ugh. What did I just say to that chick? It means something, but it doesn't change anything. Like I was one of the other assholes from the shop, protesting too much about how this thing between us is actually not a thing at all.
Why am I so determined to tell Brooke off—at the same time I want to get her off?
I muss up my hair with my fingers and lean my head back. I'm definitely losing it. Maybe it's the climate? It's so goddamn moist up here that I feel like I'm sucking in saltwater with every inhale. I miss the desert and the dry warmth and the bright lights of the Strip.
I pull my phone from my pocket and check for messages from my friends. The owner of the shop I work at—a placed called Needle in My Eye Body Piercing—texted me a picture of some girl's clitoral hood piercing. I stare at it and then scroll down.
The ladies miss u dude. Come back soon!
I smile and pocket the phone, shoving away all of that weirdness from downstairs. I shake it off and take a deep breath, pausing to fix my hair in Brooke's bathroom before I go back down and find her sitting with Sadie on the couch.