"I like your old people," he says in my ear, sending shivers down my spine, and into the pit of my stomach.
"They like you, too," I say.
"Although," Zane leaves forward confidingly. "Some of the women are forward as hell. This one tiny lady—I swear she had octopus arms. One hand in my shirt, one on my ass, and six down my pants. Kind of wanted to scream for help."
"Oh, no," I laugh. "That must have been Mary. She's kind of...grabby."
"Short little thing? Crazy beehive wig, and a pincer-like grip?"
I can't hide my grin. "That's her."
"Yeah, you might want to think about keeping an eye on her because, damn."
Zane has the most irresistible frown on his face right now. I pat his chest. "Aw, poor baby! Did she hurt you?"
He smiles and expertly spins me to the beat of the music. "Kind of. I might need therapy. To get rid of those painful memories. Know anyone who could help?"
I pretend to think. "I could probably hook you up with my school counselor, Mr. Bob."
"So, it's gonna be like that, huh?" Zane looks down at me with a sly expression on his too-handsome face. "And I was going to give you something."
"What?" I say suspiciously.
"It's a surprise," he says. "Check my pants pocket."
I snort. "Yeah, right. I've heard that one before."
"You have, huh?"
The song ends and Zane leads me off to the side in a little alcove by the fireplace. The location offers a little bit of privacy from everyone else, and I wonder what Zane has up his sleeve. Probably something dirty, knowing him.
"Come on, Violet," he taunts me. "Check my pockets. I'll give you a hint: it's the left one."
I stare at him suspiciously. He waits, holding his arms out at his sides, inviting me to search him.
Well, okay. If Mary can do it, so can I. I take a quick look around. No one's looking in my direction, so I cautiously stick my hand into his left pants pocket.
"I swear to God, if you make one little peep, I'll get Mary and her iron grip over here," I threaten him.
He just smiles. "I promise, I won't even enjoy it. Much."
I don't get very far when my fingers encounter something hard.
No, not that!
Frowning, I pull the light blue box from Zane's pocket.
Um. It says Tiffany & Co on the front.
I hold the box like it's a bomb. It's flat and square shaped. I look at him uncertainly. "What is it?"
Zane grins teasingly. "It's a box. Open it."
I blink rapidly for way too long. Then I thrust the box at his chest. "Whatever it is, I can't accept it. I'm sure it's way too expensive."
Zane sighs. "Violet," he says patiently. "You know I can afford it."
He tries to hand it to me, but I back away, my heart beating rapidly. Because I really want to open that box.
Zane grabs my hand and places the box in it. "You're starting to piss me off," he says. If you don't accept it, I'll take it as an insult. Come on, it's no big deal."
He's watching me expectantly. Now I feel completely ungrateful.
Well, no harm in looking, right?
Feeling incredibly self-conscious, I carefully open the box. Inside, I find a soft drawstring pouch, and...
Oh, wow!
Very, very carefully I pull out a glittering diamond bracelet. Set in platinum, the diamonds are alternating sizes and shapes. It's beautiful.
It's on the tip of my tongue to ask if it's real, but of course it is!
"This...wow, this is amazing, Zane," I say breathlessly. "But this is way too much! I can't—you know I can't..."
"Yes, you can."
He takes the bracelet from me and fastens it around my wrist. My skin tingles at the delicate weight. I am mesmerized by the way the diamonds catch the light and refract it into tiny little sparkles.
Zane's amused voice breaks my trance. "Now I'm going to save us both a lot of trouble by telling you right now, I'm not taking it back, and if you try to refuse it, you really are going to piss me off. So you have to love it."
"Oh, I do! It's beautiful! But—"
"Then that's it. You're welcome."
I grab his shirt and pull him down to my height. "Thank you," I whisper.
Then I kiss him. Long and hot and hard. We break apart, smiling.
"So," I say, running my fingers over his well-defined jaw. "Does this mean I have to put out?"
Zane tilts his head to the side, pretending to consider. "Yeah, I think so."
I grin up at him. "I was going to, anyway."
"I know."
Okay, now's the perfect time to ask him about us. I take a deep breath.
"Sorry to interrupt."
Grr! It's Marissa and her slutty dress.
"What?!" I snap. "I mean—what?"