He cocks his head to the side, running a hand over his mouth. “Got a thing for rabbits, huh?”
I totally know he’s referring to the rabbit on my underwear. I shift uncomfortably in my chair. “Let’s change the subject,” I say. “Um…so, what about your mom? Where is she?”
Zane leans back. His smile is still there, but the edges of amusement are gone. “She’s dead,” he says matter-of-factly.
Great, Violet. Way to bring up bad memories. “I’m so sorry,” I say in a hushed voice.
He glances over and seeing my remorseful expression, he reaches over and squeezes my hand. “Don’t be. It happened a long time ago. When she was alive, I barely knew her.”
I surreptitiously study his face to gauge his mood. “What happened, if you don’t mind me asking?” I ask cautiously.
“She was a paranoid schizophrenic. She didn’t live with us most of the time.” Zane’s gaze goes distant. “I remember going to visit her at various facilities. When she did come home, she used to lock herself in the bathroom and just cry and scream for hours. When I was really young, I used to…I used to stand outside, and just listen to her talk to herself. I thought maybe she knew I was out there, keeping her company.”
It’s my turn to take his hand. “That’s a nice thought.”
He shrugs. “We thought she was doing better for a while. She was taking her meds, and sometimes she’d even ask me how my day was going. Then, one day I walk into her room and…there she was. She hanged herself with some wire from a hook in the ceiling.”
I cover my mouth with both hands, horrified for him. “How…awful.”
“Yeah, it was,” he says simply. “I had nightmares for months after. Couldn’t watch scary movies, or go out at Halloween. It was a long time ago, though. I made my peace with it.”
I really have no freaking clue what to say. “I…uh…do you want to…?”
Zane waves the topic away with an impatient hand gesture. “Seriously, I’m okay. I don’t need to talk about it. Some things happen that just don’t make sense, you know? And talking about it doesn’t help anything. Sometimes it’s better just to forget.”
“I…” I stare down at my hands. “I’m sorry.”
“No worries, Violet. Let’s change the subject again, okay?”
“Thank goodness,” I agree gratefully, and he laughs.
We are quiet for a moment. The awkwardness brought on by the topic of his mother’s suicide dissipates like fog, leaving a comfortable camaraderie. It’s nice. Okay, it’s more than nice. I can’t stop stealing glances at his beautiful profile out of the corner of my eye.
“I wish I could go swimming,” I say idly, staring at longingly at the pool.
“Why don’t you?”
I make a face. “Too cold.”
Zane sits up. “The pools heated, you know.”
“It is? Wish I knew that before.” I sigh.
“So, let’s go for a swim,” he says, tugging at my ponytail.
“What, now?” I laugh. “It’s almost midnight!”
“So? You gonna turn into a pumpkin? Come on.”
Zane is already standing up and taking off his shirt, and I have to tear my eyes away from the bronzed muscled perfection of his chest and shoulders. Oh, God, am I drooling? Look at those chiseled abs!
He pauses with his hand on the button of his jeans (gasp!) and glances up at me expectantly. “Are you gonna swim in your clothes?”
He seems totally unaware that he’s giving me a heart attack right now. When he starts to unzip his jeans, I turn around so fast, I almost fall out of the chair. I am sure I’m beet red from head to toe. I have to clear my throat to find my voice. “I’ll get my swim suit,” I manage to choke out.
The sound of his sexy chuckle sends my pulse spinning into overdrive. “Don’t forget your arm floaties, too. What are you, ten? You don’t need your swimsuit. It’s just us.”
I am so shocked by what I think he’s suggesting, that I whip around to glare at him. “I’m not going skinny dipping with you!”
Zane is standing there in black boxers and nothing else, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen a sight more beautiful than his long lean body and the complex contours and ridges of his sleek muscles. He’s smirking at me now—can he feel me eye-licking him?
“Swim in your underwear,” he says with that almost-smile of his. “I don’t skinny dip with good girls like you.”
I can’t help the frown that pulls down the corners of my mouth. It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask him why not. What’s wrong with me? Then I think…what’s wrong with me?! Of course I don’t want to go skinny dipping with Zane!