Hard(19)

I hobbled to the bedroom and dropped the armful of clothes onto the already bigger pile cluttering the floor. Maybe Dad did help more than I thought. Without worrying about car payments or school, I had much more disposable income to spend on my wardrobe.

I examined the mess. Where did I get a Taylor Swift shirt? That was Azariah’s doing. I kicked the shirt over to her and finally looked up.

I hadn’t welcomed Azariah into my apartment.

It was Zach.

And he picked up the laciest, pinkest pair of panties I owned. He stretched them between his fingers.

“Packing the necessities?” He asked.

Oh, sweet Jesus.

I leapt over the bed and slammed shut the suitcase brimming with panties. The bed frame was a piece of junk. The slats holding the box-spring slipped, and everything tumbled, including the suitcase. Zach laughed as a wave of panties cascaded over his legs.

“What the hell are you doing in my room?” I shrieked.

He jerked a thumb to the door. His t-shirt tightened over his biceps. Didn’t he have any clothes that fit?

“You let me in.”

“Well, get out!”

“Why?”

“Because this place only has me on the lease. You don’t live here!”

Dimples, a flash of teeth, and a quirked eyebrow. He disarmed me without even trying.

“Relax. I wanted to see if you needed help moving.” He wagged a folder in his hand. “William called me. Said he had some paperwork for us. I volunteered to bring it.”

I took the folder. “Thanks. Get out.”

He declined with a smile. “So, you’re packing? Decided to come stay with me after all?”

“I’ve decided to live in the house that my father passed to me.”

“I haven’t had a roommate for a while. Hopefully it’s better than the barracks.”

“We are not roommates.”

“Not yet. Look at all this packing you have to do.” His grin would suffocate me. “Seriously, need any help getting this to the car?”

“Not from you.”

Zach motioned to sit on my bed. I chased him away.

“Shay, come on. There’s no sense being angry.”

I had every right to be angry. I fluttered around his feet, collecting stray bits of the sluttiest and most embarrassing underwear I had. I didn’t know what was worse—the granny panties or the slinky silk ones.

I poked his chest as he dared to get in my way, but brandishing a thong at him wasn’t threatening.

“You tricked me,” I said. “You had sex with me without saying you were my step-brother. You lied about who you were, why you found me, and what you were doing. It was cruel, and I want nothing to do with you now. No help. No moving. No nothing.”

“How am I supposed to make it better if you won’t even listen to me?”

“There’s nothing to make-better. You are beyond apologies at this point.”

“Give me a chance?

Was he kidding? I threw the laundry onto the bed. “Zach, you hurt me.”

His smile faded. “It wasn’t my intention.”

“First I poured my soul out to you, and then we had…”

And there I went again, imagining everything I had tried not to imagine for the past week and a half.

And he must have imagined it too. Zach shifted, adjusting himself without making it obvious he was adjusting.

That namesake again.

Hard.

He lived up to it. He was supremely gifted. Just knowing how he had felt, tasted, and pleasured was too much for me to handle right now.

Or ever again.

“You are the biggest mistake of my life.” I took a breath, but I didn’t let him intimidate me. “But you know what? I’m going to take you up on your offer.”

Zach tilted his head—a look I’d consider cute and puppyish if I didn’t know better. He was no little rolly-polly cutie, he was the wolf. Cunning. Sleek. Built for power and precision. I didn’t meet his gaze. The green was far too inviting for what I needed to say.

“You’re going to come stay at the mansion?” He stepped closer, twirling the little pink panties around his finger. “It’s a good idea, Shay. We could keep each other company. Again.”

I braced as he approached. He was huge, powerful, and perfect. I had never felt petite before, but in his shadow, I was overwhelmed.

Zach could haul me around a bed with one arm and then cuddle me against his strength when we were done. And I remembered the wonderful things he’d whispered, things that warmed me from inside once more.

My chest tightened, and everything else clenched too. How could a man who was so wrong, so horrible, and so awful tempt me?

My head and heart tangled with each other. Neither could overpower the other.

Con-artist.