“Oh gosh, I’m not much for shots.” I still can’t believe I downed one the night of our reunion.
Zebb looks over at me as we wait on the order. “You did one the other night? When we bumped into each other.”
“I was nervous then.”
Slowly, his mouth curls, one corner hitching up before the other. “Are you nervous tonight?”
“Should I be?” I match his smile. If he suggests we’re having sex tonight, I’d give a resounding yes. But the truth is, it’s been a while since I’ve hadrelationswith someone. Other than Zebb touching me a week ago, it’s been a freeze-out worthy of the North Pole since anyone has been near my personal Santa’s workshop.
“You’ll never have to be anxious around me.” His eyes soften. His expression more somber. I don’t know what he means but I nod as two shot glasses are set on the bar top. Zebb hands one to me and then takes the other.
“To a snowball’s chance.” He lifts his glass.
“To balls of fire.” I lift my Fireball shot and toss it back. The burn waters my eyes. The cinnamon tingle reminds me of Zebb’s kisses.
With his eyes on me, Zebb tosses back his shot. Then he slams the glass on the bar top and cups my jaw. The kiss is something I don’t see coming. Fast and fierce, he’s that snowball rushing through hell.
What chance does he want? Survival? A second shot at . . . us?
She was the love of my life in high school.
He didn’t mean it.
But his kiss right now feels like I’m the air that feeds fire, and he’s going to burn us both to the ground.
+ + +
The party plays out with loud laughter and rowdy renditions of Christmas carols. I can’t remember the last time I had so much fun obnoxiously belting outJingle Bells, which these firemen have changed to dirty lyrics, including a new title ofJingle Balls. Zebb and I drink and dance, although there isn’t an official dance floor, and our movement is more like an embrace that sways out of beat with the music.
“Tell me again why we broke up?” His nose nuzzles the shell of my ear.
“Because you went off to live a dream.”
Zebb pulls back and stares down at me. “No, you went off to another state for school.”
I stare back at him, confused by the accusation. “We both went off to college. And summer ended.”
“We could have stayed in touch, though.” Zebb sighs, looking over my head.
Long distance wouldn’t have ever worked. Besides, his plans were a little larger than mine. He didn’t need a girlfriend in the way of reaching for the NFL. Maybe we could have at least remained friends, but I would have been jealous of every girl that came after me. She’d have what I didn’t which was Zebb in the flesh.
“Why didn’t we date before that summer?” I ask, curiosity getting the better of me. I’m not certain I want this answer.
Zebb scoops loose hair around my ear. “Because you were you. Quiet. Standoffish. Unobtainable.” His eyes focus on where his fingers trace.
“You mean like a wallflower, standing on the edge of you being you.”
Zebb’s eyes meet mine. “What I meant is you didn’t seem like the type to be interested in someone like me.”
“Star quarterback. One of the most popular guys in school. Yeah, rough to keep my teenage libido in check.” I scoff.
“You left off not good enough to attend IA and fighting every day to prove I deserved to be there.”
My mouth falls open. “I never saw you like that. You appearedtoogood to be true.”
Suddenly, Zebb’s phone rings. He has pockets in his robe, and we’ve marveled at the ingenuity of putting pockets in a dress.
“Hey . . . baby.” He stammers over the word as he stops moving. His eyes lock on mine a second before he releases me. Holding up a finger, he gives me the recognizable symbol forgive me a minute. Then, he steps away from me and not only does the loss of his body heat send a sudden shiver up my spine, but the tone of that single endearment hits my gut like a brick.