Everything she said rang true. I am turning into this guy who has double standards, who wants to control the situation. And the jealousy is becoming difficult to ignore all because of the threat of losing her. The mere thought of them being outside my bedroom door with his hands all over her is enough to drive me insane. What can I do? Nothing. You are helpless. Helpless, unless you admit to yourself that you want Zoey Richards to be more than your roomie.
The thinking, stress, and deliberation are all too much.
Somewhere in my admission to myself, I doze off, and in my dreams I see her face.
It’s beautiful, glowing, and she’s smiling back at me with adoration.
She’s calling my name.
Zoey’s begging me to touch her, begging to feel me deep inside her.
In my dreams, she is mine.
Chapter Nine
Zoey
Drew has been acting weird all week. Our relationship has been strained ever since that morning when Noah stayed over and our heated argument that followed. Since then, he’s been avoiding me, and when we’re in the same room, he doesn’t talk much, retreating to his room any chance he can get. It’s almost like he’s jealous I had another man over, but then that would be very hypocritical of him and makes no sense to me whatsoever. I narrowed it down to male PMS. That, and he’s exhausted from his double shifts at the hospital.
Thankfully, he’s not been around much, and on his minimal time off, he sent me a text saying he was driving to his dad’s place and spending a couple of nights there.
It’s better this way. I need my alone time, and Drew needs some quality time with his dad, who has been complaining that he never sees his son anymore.
Noah proved to be just what I needed for that night, and that night only. I don’t see myself pursuing a relationship with him, and I’m not one to maintain a fuckbuddy. Just to make it clear, I made sure he was aware of my intentions. Silly me. Tell me what guy would have said no to a one-night fling. We had fun that night, he gave me an orgasm, and it scratched that itch that needed a good old scratching and I’m happy about that fact.
The week has gone by fast, and working on that new project has taken up most of my time. Mr. Becker’s been in a good mood showing me the ropes and spending the time to train me in new areas of the business. I welcome the learning experience hoping this is the foot in the door I need. With a positive outcome, I inquired into furthering my study, just for that additional advantage, and to make myself more marketable should my career lead me in a different path.
Zoey Richards is finally making a comeback!
The excitement of throwing myself into the deep end is both thrilling and exhausting. Most nights I stay back, working late, wanting to prove myself to Mr. Becker. At night, I’ve been chilling in the apartment with a glass of wine and reading over my notes for the day. The peace and quiet are exactly what I need, and not having Drew around has given me exactly that.
I did, however, make sure he’s still going to attend the wedding as my plus one. He’s not the type to make empty promises, and toward the end of the week, everything between us has reverted to normal. Just like it always has.
He had driven back from his dad’s house and is in a much better mood. As usual, he talked endlessly about the cars he helped his dad fix in his shop and was quick to point out how his dad was disappointed he hadn’t given Betty the attention she needed, and as a result of that, her engine was on its way out. I don’t care for car talk, yet I politely indulged in the conversation so as not to cause any further conflict between us.
On Saturday morning, I wake up early to do my hair and makeup. I’d spent the night watching this tutorial on YouTube about how to brighten my eyes and sat at my dresser carefully stroking the eyeshadow as the clip showed me. They make it seem so easy. My clumsy hand has me removing the eyeshadow several times and starting over. By the fifth time, I look decent enough and not like a two-dollar hooker auditioning for a beauty pageant.
For most formal occasions, I leave my hair out. Today, I decide to do something a little different by styling my hair into a fancy side bun. Yes, another tutorial. With my hair and makeup done, I stare back at myself in the mirror. Not bad. The eyeshadow has brought out the green in my eyes, and with my hair neatly placed in a bun, my neckline is exposed showing my pale skin.
Inside my jewelry box lies a pearl necklace my mom gave me that used to belong to her. It’s an heirloom—a beautiful classic piece that will go perfect against my navy dress. I carefully place the necklace on, then further accessorize with some small diamond earrings.
Since Mia’s wedding starts at midday and the reception isn’t until five, I choose two outfits to wear. A subtle dress for the church, and what I like to call my ‘party dress’ for the reception. Something about low plunging backs at the church simply doesn’t seem appropriate.
I walk out to the living room where Drew is fiddling with his cufflinks. Letting out a whistle, he looks up, and instantly, something in his eyes changes. They soften, yet there’s something else I can’t quite figure out. His stare lingers making me slightly uncomfortable. My gaze moves to the floor, and when I look up again, he’s still staring at me with a beautiful smile across his face. My heart starts to beat erratically, and my breathing hitches slightly until I realize it’s the butterflies swirling around in my stomach making me so nervous.
Butterflies—I haven’t felt them in forever.
Ignore them. They have been hiding in captivity and are merely desperate for attention.
Drew looks incredibly handsome. His dark charcoal suit is tailored perfectly to his physique, and underneath he wears a simple, white, collared shirt with a slight sheen. The top button is undone, as Drew hates to wear ties. With his hair slicked to the side, he wears his contacts along with a freshly shaven face.
He looks ridiculously yummy. Wait, did you just call your roomie ‘yummy?’
“Zoey,” he murmurs, leaving me almost breathless by the call of my name.
I move in closer and lift his arm helping him with his cufflink. The battle to keep my eyes fixed on this task proves difficult as the heavenly smell of his masculine scent invades my senses. I fumble like a child with placing his cufflink firmly in position. What is it about men’s cologne that makes your entire body flutter in delight? I want to devour him.
Get a grip!