Bad Nanny (The Bad Nanny Trilogy #1)(92)

The next morning, I dress all the way up for class, using a YouTube tutorial on my phone to apply my makeup, and picking out the most cohesive pieces of clothing that I own. I end up in skinny jeans, black boots that remind me of a pair I saw Zayden wearing, and a hot pink tank top.

I even get up an hour early to wash and dry my hair, combing it out until there's a sleek shiny chocolate wave tumbling down to my ass.

When I'm finished cleaning my piercing, I head into the hallway to the sound of … quiet? When I clomp down the stairs, I manage to catch a brief glimpse of five children seated around the dining table. As I pause to stare, one of the twins scrambles away and Zayden chases him down.

“Oh no you don't,” he says as he swings the kid over his shoulder and then pauses to look at me.

There's a sudden moment of awkward where I wonder if I should say something. But why? Zayden made it perfectly clear last night that he didn't need to talk. It means something, but it doesn't change anything. Fine. If that's how he feels …

“Brooke,” he says as I turn away and start for the door, reaching out a hand and resting it on the knob as I take a deep breath. “We cool?” he asks, his voice this soft breath that makes me shiver a little. “Because you know, it'd totally bum me out if you didn't come home after class.”

I almost smile, but I can't quite force my lips to move. I keep thinking of that quiet dark and that slanted moonlight and Zayden's weirdly sad half-smile.

“I have plans with Tinley,” I say, looking over my shoulder and shrugging loosely. “I'll stop in before work, okay?”

Zayden watches me for a moment and then nods, swinging his nephew back onto the ground and snapping his fingers.

“Back to the kitchen, kid. Let's do this. Military precision, remember?”

“Eat a dick!” the four year old screams before rushing up the stairs with screeching laughter. Both Zayden and I exchange a look over that one, the confusion about our weird non-relationship temporarily forgotten.

“Um,” he says and then scratches at the back of his head. “I am so going to get it from Rob for that one, even though I don't actually remember saying it around him …”

“Don't look at me,” I say as I snag my bag off the coatrack and open the front door. “It definitely wasn't me. I already spent the last of my cash in the curse jar.”

I smile tightly and slip out before things can get anymore awkward, moving quickly to my Subaru and climbing in before Zayden can think to come after me. I'm still trying to process what happened last night, push my emotions down and lock them away. Especially since I know I'm being ridiculous. I knew what to expect from Zayden Roth—and I definitely didn't expect his knight in shining armor meter to ping for long.

Guess I was right about that one.



After class, I head back to the house to change, finding a peaceful set of kids gathered around the TV with bowls of grapes in their hands, eyes glued to the flickering action of Zayden's video game. He's playing some wildly colorful platformer with his tongue sticking out the side of his mouth, his black hair spiked up into a wild crazy Mohawk, his shaved side impossible to see from where I'm standing.

As soon as I close the door behind me, he pauses the game and glances over, drawing groans of disappointment from everyone but Sadie.

“Aunt Brooke!” Bella says as she scrambles from her seat and comes over to give me a hug, presenting her daily report card to me. The kids get one at the end of each school day, and I'm supposed to sign them before sending her in the next morning. I don't remember doing it for the past week, and I wonder if Zayden's been picking up that slack? “I got a one hundred today.”

She waves the paper around in front of me until I drop my bag and take it.

Zayden's cat immediately climbs up on the green canvas and starts scratching his nails while I roll my eyes at his rainbow sweater. It says Go Gay! on the back which is kind of funny, but … a cat in a sweater? Come on. Never gets less ridiculous.

“This is my first one hundred ever,” Brooke states proudly, copying me by flicking her dark hair over one shoulder. She gets the gesture down perfectly, the backhanded sweep that I've been perfecting since I was her age.

I smile and use my foot to detach Hubert from my bag.

“This is awesome, Brooke,” I say, reaching my palm up to give her a high five. I bend down to give my niece a big hug, shoving Dodger away with my hand. If I couldn't literally see that the dog has no balls, I would never believe he was fixed. What's wrong with him? Why does he always hump everything?

I pull back with a smile and stand up, noticing that Zay's got a tortilla chip halfway hanging out of his mouth, a bowl of grapes in his outstretched hand.