“Oh, you mean the cellar,” he snorts, and I fold my arms across my chest. He nudges me. “I’m fucking around. Now choose one,” he tells me, and I peer around.
“I’ll let you; I know nothing about wine.”
“That makes two of us because this was my father’s. I prefer whiskey or rum, but someone’s gotta drink it.” He snatches a bottle off the shelf.
“Come on, let’s see how hideous this one tastes.” he tells me.
I follow him back up the stairs and into the kitchen, where he is pulling out plates. “So, what did you want to talk about?” he asks, and I find myself tongue-tied. “My father… he um,” Fuck why is this so hard? How do I dump someone I am not even dating?
“Let me guess, your father said to dump my ass so you can marry Boyd?” he asks.
“Technically, we aren’t even a thing, so I wouldn’t be dumping you,” I tell him.
He raises an eyebrow at me.
“Then what are we?” he asks, his eyes flashing dangerously, yet the smirk on his lips tells me he is toying with me.
“Friends?” I offer awkwardly.
He seems to think for a second. “I don’t like that title.”
“I’m not being your fuck buddy,” I deadpan. “Good because I want you, not a fuck buddy,” he tells me, turning toward the oven to check on the steaks.
“And you’re not dumping me because you are scared of your father.”
“I have a boyfriend.”
“Had a boyfriend. He is not your boyfriend. He is a fleabag.”
I raise an eyebrow at him, and he shuts the oven door before turning the stove down.
“Well, my not boyfriend, this is me officially dumping you before shit gets more awkward.”
He snorts. “You say that like you believe you can stay away from me.” He moves around the island, stopping in front of me.
“Someone’s got tickets on themself,” I mock, and he laughs, gripping my chin.
I swallow thickly as he leans down and captures my lips with his hot, demanding mouth. His taste is intoxicating, his tongue sweeping inside, searching for mine. I gasp into the kiss and lean into him, placing my hand on his chest, and I feel the steady beat of his heart.
He pulls away, breathing raggedly, and I am left panting. “Do you always kiss friends like that?” he purrs.
My face heats. “I might not be able to stay away from you, but that doesn’t mean we’re good for each other. It’s this sire bond. Once it wears off, things will go back to normal,” I argue, my voice firm despite the lingering heat from his kiss.
Zayn smirks, moving back to the kitchen and dishing out food before placing a plate of it in front of me. “You’re not dumping me, Cleo. That’s not how this works.”
I sigh, picking at the food. “Zayn, we’re causing drama in the packs. It’s not just about us. I have responsibilities, and I’m supposed to… to marry Boyd.”
He remains quiet throughout the meal, his silence stretching into an uncomfortable void.
Finally, once I’ve finished eating, I stand, knowing he can’t use feeding me as an excuse to stay any longer, my chair scrapes against the floor. “I should get back to my dorm. Classes start early tomorrow.”
“I’ll drop you off before classes,” Zayn says, his voice devoid of any emotion.
“No, Zayn, you’re not listening!” Frustration boils inside me. “I can’t be with you. This isn’t right.”
He steps closer, his presence overwhelming. With one swift move, he pulls me into a searing kiss, leaving me breathless. “You will be with me, Cleo,” he whispers against my lips, his eyes burning with intensity. “Because I’ll kill anyone who dares to touch what’s mine.”
I push against his chest, my heart racing. “You can’t just claim me, Zayn. I’m not a prize to be won.”
