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I’m not interested in pleasure unless it’s with Zoey. I’d rather go the rest of my life without touching another woman. The waitress finally leaves.
“I think she wants you to watch her go,” Zoey murmurs. “She’s reallyswishingher hips, isn’t she? Now listen to me. I sound like a jealous loon.”
“Maybe I want you to be jealous. Maybe I like it. Zoey, you know I don’t want that woman, don’t you?”
“It’s fine. I get it. You have to take photos with your fans.”
“I mean it,” I growl. “Look at me.”
Zoey finally drags her gaze from the direction the waitress walked, looking at me with too much pain in her eyes. I hate it.
“I only want you. Nobody else.” She has no idea how true that is.
“Thanks for saying that,” she murmurs, telling me she’s unconvinced.
“I’m saying it because it’s true.”
She stands, forcing a smile onto her face, but it trembles at the edges as if she’s just about holding on. I mentally replay the interaction with the waitress, wondering if I overstepped somewhere, giving Zoey a mistaken impression about my feelings for the other woman. There arenofeelings, and I can’t figure out what I did to make her think otherwise.
“I’m going to use the bathroom,” she says.
Before I can say anything else, she leaves, her head and shoulders bowed. I watch her go, clenching my fist around the napkin, hating that she would ever feel she has to walk that way. Like prey, like she doesn’t matter, but she’sallthat matters to me, the only person.
The waitress returns while Zoey is still in the bathroom. “Where’s your friend?” She asks in a flirty tone, one I’ve got no interest in.
“The bathroom,” I grunt, warning myself not to be rude, “and she’s not my friend. She’s my girlfriend.”
The waitress doesn’t try to hide her disappointment. She sighs as she places the drinks down.
“Girlfriend,” she repeats. “Right. I get it.”
“We’ll take the food menus when you’re ready.”
I keep my voice civil and respectful, but I’m pissed at her for making Zoey feel bad. Even if it’s not the waitress’s fault, even if she didn’t assume me and Zoey were together, it still pisses me off. The waitress leaves.
My phone vibrates. It’s Zoey. What the hell?
I know this is pathetic,she texts.Running to the toilet so I don’t have to explain in person, but I don’t know how else to do it.
CHAPTER17
Zoey
Is this the definition ofa new low? I’m sitting on the toilet seat, the cold material pressing through my jeans. There was so much warmth before I saw Lola walk across the restaurant with the confidence I know so well—the confidence that turns me invisible.
Explain what?Jax replies.And you’re not pathetic. I’d never say that. I’d never think it.
The waitress went to my high school. Her name’s Lola. She was the Queen Bee, the girl everybody chased. Football players, nerds, everybody in between… They all wanted her. When I saw her walking over, it was like I was back there. The invisible girl again. The girl who doesn’t matter. I just thought, well, here we go. Jax will see somebody prettier and more traditionally attractive and realize how foolish he’s being for choosing me.
I don’t care what she was in high school or what YOU were in high school. All I care about is who WE are now. I’m telling the truth. I don’t want anything to do with that woman or any woman who isn’t called Zoey Gray.
OrMallory Gray, I mentally add. That’s the sharp blade hanging over every interaction, ready to execute our joy at any moment—the revelation he won’t share out of respect for Mom. What about respect for me?
She didn’t even recognize me,I reply.There’s no reason for her to. She was always above everybody, but it stings in a strange way. It’s like I’m so insignificant she can’t even remember me.
To me, you’re the most significant woman alive.
We both saw her flirting with you.
